he stumbled, again, but this time managing to catch himself before the fall.
"that's my Cock", I said; his fingers squeezing as if he were judging a large vegetable.
he continued to look at me, puzzled.
"my Dick. you have my Dick in your Hand and you're sqeezing it".
blank drunken stare. the Hand falls back to his side.
"I mean, I don't know you very well, perhaps you should buy me dinner and a movie".
he sits down next to his woman, a bored looking future hausfrau.
they both spend the rest of the evening sullen and deflated, pondering the nature of this latent homosexual display.
my cruel laughter rings over the pulse and throb of hyperdelic music.
good times.
