Paul Gillebaard - USSR Hoax

Another astronaut chimed in, “How about that brunette in those hot pants sitting in front of the blonde?”

David adjusted his barstool to get a better look. “Nice. I think I could have fun with that one too.”

Tom thought it best to change the subject before the conversation got out of hand. Since he was the only one at the table who had visited with the Apollo 10 crew, he decided to relay the men’s mood. He piped up so all could hear. “Sam seemed pretty relaxed today. You would never know he’ll be firing off for the moon on Sunday.”

David took a big swig of beer before turning to his friend. “That’s Sam. I’ve never seen him nervous. He’s always so cool under pressure. Sometimes I wonder if he’s human. Did he have anything to say about the mission?”

Tom looked at his glass as he swirled its contents. “Yeah, he’s disappointed he has to paint a white line all the way to the moon so Apollo 11 can follow it and get all the glory. He said he just might surprise us all and land.”

All the men chuckled. “That would be hilarious, and it would shock the hell out of the top brass.”

Tom took a sip of his drink and set the glass on the wooden table. “It would shock the hell out of all of us. And what could management do?”

They all knew the lunar module lacked the needed fuel to permit a landing, but still a few chimed in. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.”

A man barged in between two of the men with his arms extended like a bird in flight, wrapping them around the men like he was greeting fraternity brothers. “What’s up, guys?” It was Chris Riddick.

One of Chris’s best buddies called out, “Hey, Chris, how ya doing, pal? Pull up a barstool and join us.”

Tom stayed planted on his seat while the other guys moved to make extra room.

“Thanks. I think I will.” Chris snagged an extra barstool from the adjoining table and made himself comfortable.

One of the men asked Chris, “Did you just fly in?”

“Yeah, I finally finished up my week in the barrel. Did I miss anything?”

Since Chris had not yet flown or been assigned a mission, he had to take his turn in the “barrel,” like all the other rookies, traveling the country to help promote NASA. The promotional trip usually included stops at local Rotary clubs and various luncheons where the astronaut would present a slide show followed by a discussion. Most of the men detested the week, but Chris seemed to enjoy showing off being an astronaut.

“Nope, we’re just checking out the ladies across the room.”

Chris’s neck shot up like a stork’s. “Which ones?”

David pointed out the women. “Over there at the bar.”

“Nice. So how come they’re not over here?”

Chris’s buddy chimed in. “We’re waiting for you to rope them in for us.”

Flashing a cocky grin, Chris jumped off his barstool. “I got you guys covered. Hold on.” He sauntered toward the ladies with a brash swagger.

All the guys turned to watch. One of the men shook his head and said, “That guy has no fear. He’ll do anything.”

Most of the astronauts bought into Chris’s shtick, but not Tom.

Ever since Chris officially divorced from Sandy last year, he became this swinging bachelor who most of the men envied. He had the freedom to attend astronaut functions with a different woman on his arm. Chris was especially admired by those astronauts who were cheating. They all wished they could get a divorce, but none of them dared, since no one knew what impact it would have on their career. Chris was their guinea pig, and they were all waiting to see what would happen. As long as Chris did not get a flight, it was doubtful any astronaut would come forward about any issues happening at home.

Soon Chris had escorted the ladies over to the table, where they easily settled in and mingled among the men. Tom stayed quiet as he nonchalantly checked each one out while sipping his drink. They were all pretty, but his eyes always ended up back on the blonde. She flashed him a coy grin when she caught him staring, causing him to quickly turn away, like a shy schoolboy.

Dominating the conversation, Chris was overplaying the astronaut card. He tried to wow the girls by implying most of the men at the table would probably walk on the moon someday.

Eyes widened at the comment, but not the blonde’s. She didn’t look impressed. Eventually she moved in closer to the table and spoke in an amused tone, “So have any of you boys been in outer space yet?”

A few of the men pointed toward Tom. “He has.”

With a playful look in her eyes, the blonde sensually circled the group toward him. Tom knew he was in trouble when he got a close up of her alluring cleavage. He had to force his eyes upward when she extended her hand.

“Hello, I’m Connie.”

No one seemed to be paying attention. So Tom reached for her small delicate hand and brought it to his lips. Her scent was intoxicating as he lightly kissed her soft skin. “Nice to meet you, Connie. I’m Tom.” He saw a twinkle in her eye. But there was something behind her smile. He couldn’t tell if it was mischief or that she was laughing on the inside at what he thought had been a suave move. Regardless, he enjoyed the attention. To have the prettiest girl in the bar focused on him was good for his ego, and all astronauts needed their ego stroked occasionally. Tom just had to stay in control. He didn’t want to do anything that could get him into trouble.

Connie set her small yellow purse down by his drink. “You’re pretty groovy, rocket man. So what was it like in outer space?”

He looked into her dark blue eyes and spoke in a playful whisper. “I guess you could say it was outta sight.”

She smiled, her cute dimples becoming more pronounced.

Tom was interrupted by a firm hand on his back. He turned to see Chris.

“Hey, Tom, how about you help me get a round of drinks from the bar?”

Not being a fan of Riddick, Tom preferred not to. He looked around to see if anyone was going to step up, but no one did. He had no choice. “Sure.”

As Chris checked with the table on what everyone wanted, Tom moved closer to Connie and asked, “Would you like a drink?”

She put her hand on his. “That would be groovy. I’ll have a champagne cocktail, please.”

He winked. “Got it. I’ll be right back.”

As he and Chris walked over to the bar, Chris’s voice had a righteous tone to it. “So, looks like you have a hot one.”

Tom spoke matter of factly. “Yes she is hot. But as you know, I’m happily married. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Chris mashed his lips together. “Of course.”

“No, really, I’m just enjoying her company.”

Chris looked back at Connie. “I guess it doesn’t hurt she looks like a Playboy bunny.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Tom said with a smirk.

Chris carelessly bumped into a barrel-chested man, causing him to spill his beer.

The brute, standing well over six feet tall with Herculean arms bulging out of his tight tee-shirt, turned with an enraged look. “Watch where you’re going, asshole.”

This was the wrong guy to knock, and his buddy was an even more intimidating character. Tom couldn’t believe it as Chris practically ignored the man, simply throwing up his hand as he kept walking. “Hey, it was an accident. Get over it.”

Tom leaned over to Chris and whispered, “Maybe you should apologize to the guy.”

Chris shook his head as he continued toward the bar. “I barely touched him. He’s fine.”

After they reached the bar, Tom turned around and saw the brutes approaching, and they didn’t look happy. This isn’t going to be good. Keeping his eyes on the men, he nudged Chris with his elbow. “I think we’re going to have company.”