I stand on the thresh hold of opportunity. As I stare into the coral blue ring of my toilet with my penis hanging limply in hand I realize that the number in my pocket is my key. My key to Freedom, my key to Opportunity, my key to other gay men.
My manager Eddie gave me his phone number.
Actually he scratched his number down quickly on a piece of paper. "Eddie and Tim" that is what the paper said.
He says call whenever I want to. Oh how I want to call. Oh how I want to make contact with other men. What to do.
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Anyway, My little tent on the lake is staring to sink and the pond has quickly grown to a beautiful lake of mud. it is beautiful.
What the hell am I going to do? I want to call Eddie so bad. I want to meet people. This phone number is the key Eddie is the door. Does he even know just how much of a position of power he holds now. Has he set it up this way. probably not. Am I the only person who thinks of things in such exaggerated terms. Why can't this crap just be simple.
.....please! Follow me to bed. I really need you now. Good night..........
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