"Hey, Nick." I said as I stood in the doorway. Nick looked like I had woken him up or, more likely, I had woken up his parents' dog and the dog had woken him up. "I told your Dad I'd bring his drill back before he came home on his lunch break. When'd you get home?"
"Uh . . . yesterday. Sorry, man, come in. Its so fucking cold outside." I walked into his parents' living room. I had bought the house next door seven years ago when I was 22.
I couldn't believe the Cubs lost after being 3 games up. And the Red Sox just suck. I was really looking forward to a Red Sox and Cubbie series. But no. I hate the Yankees only because of the shithead owner. So be it. I will have to root for the Marlins. Anyway, I told my wife the series was coming and I would be watching it with some of my male friends.
The bitch shows up behind home plate again. Unbelievable. Second night in a row, she gets in the same seat and tries to fuck me up with her flashes of tit. She quickly yanks down one side of her tank top, flashes her boob, and tries to mess with my head.
She doesn't even have great cans. We're not talking about centerfold or top-notch porn material here. More like porn you'd find on the lower shelves, like bottles of cheap vodka in a liquor store.
Tucker Williams almost missed his flight. His mind was a thousand miles away as they called for the last passengers to board the flight for San Diego. If it hadn't been for the attentive gate agent, he might have been staring into the distance while his flight rolled down the runway without him. Shocked back into the moment by a gentle tap on his shoulder, he quickly grabbed his backpack and boarded the flight just as they were closing the doors.
The two caretakers stood, resting under the shade of a beautiful oak tree. The cemetery was completely empty, save for them, and one lone visitor who came most every day.
"There he is again," the younger of the two said.
"Yeah. That was his best friend you know. They played the game back in thirty-eight," the older one replied.
I first noticed him at the opening game of the high school basketball season. I had heard the team was going to be good this year, and wanted to see the top senior scorer. He wasn't the one, however, that caught my eye almost immediately. It was the other senior. The shorter, more rugged guard, who was quick and handled the ball with skill. I wondered who he was, so I casually asked a parent sitting next to me in the bleachers. They told me his name and gave me a little background information.
Being gay and a professional sport figure does not always go hand-in-hand. Over the years, several prominent sport figures have revealed their sexuality. David Kopay, Ed Gallagher, Roy Simmons, Glenn Burke, John Amaechi and Billy Ball, just to name a few. In most instances, revealing their sexuality resulted in banishment from the sport that made them household names.
"What's going on? Are you gay?" The words tumbled from my mouth. Once we recovered from our impromptu lovemaking bout, or at least I hoped it was lovemaking, we settled back into my bed, our backs against the headboard. Orrin kept his eyes downcast and appeared to be looking for a response to my questions. "Well?" I prompted.