At the bar

So a straight man walks into a gay bar…

“Arizona?”
“Yep, my parents live there, but I’ve been here for a few years now.”
“Good for you!”

He smiled as he gave me my driver license back.

Of course, that was just an excuse to pat my back, which was just a pretext to put his hand on my shoulder, which was just a ploy to slowly slide it up and down massaging me a little too sensually for my liking. Oh yes. I was just about to enter the gay bar.

Continue reading “So a straight man walks into a gay bar…”