Spandex is the fabric of lust and potato pancakes are what you order when you're in the breakfast spot waiting for the first time to openly and convincingly express your love like your life depended on it. What if she relents and calls the whole thing off? No problem - we'll try again next time. What if she shows up and the chemistry is corrupted? Not an effen chance, senor with a ~ over the n. The night has evolved into morning and it's business time. Perhaps you've never opened a hotel door and kissed the person knocking for like, 7 - 8 minutes? It is life changing and all the room service in the world can't come close to delivering that wow/pow factor. She was neutered and I was supercharged. It only means we were both drawn into this passion play acting out ALL of our unregistered fantasies as well as our unfulfilled desires in one kiss. Well, that and the three days of mayhem and debauchery and tongue-ripping, little head chafing, amor-sans-penetration that any adults have imagined possible. This might already be too much information about a love tryst unless you're going for phraseology sex but it's here for the sake of my life and that's all that matters. It's an homage to 1) finding love 2) having to leave it 3) feeling broken-hearted just because you can't be sure you'll see her again 4) seeing her again and again 5) writing about it 17 years later from the vantage point of love fulfilled. Hope prevails.