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Middle River Press, Inc. of Oakland Park, FL is presently in the production stages of publishing "Agnes Limerick, Free and Independent," and it's expected to be available for purchase this winter 2013-2014.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Undeniable

I sat down in the restaurant with George and ordered a glass of New Zealand sauvignon blanc. I groaned.

“What’s the matter, sweet pea?” George asked, as ever perky and dutiful. I closed my lips, swallowed, and fashioned a sentence in my head.

“It was a trying day at work,” I answered, hoping my voice sounded even. And not the tinny high-pitched strain that’d usually come out of it when I looked over at his endlessly happy blonde head. It’s how I pictured a Norwegian grenade.

I ordered a filet, baked potato, and garden salad. He ordered ahi tuna, rare, in a vegetable salad. The damned goody-too-shoes would live to be a hundred, and I’d never get any peace.

We ended up discussing the condo board of directors. George had served six years already and was now running for president. Sure, he’ll get it. He always gets the recognition if there’s no money attached to it. Now if it’d been a real job with a real salary? He wouldn’t get it, not in a million years.

A sap is a sap is a sap.

Out of the corner of my eye, another gay couple slithers into a booth, other side of the aisle, behind George. Good looking, too – at least, the one facing my direction. He notices me, I notice him. Good, perhaps I’ll have a weekend adventure. My type, too – dark hair, chiseled jaw, muscular physique, narrow waist, but not overdone. Not one of those Chelsea bottom bodybuilders. This one’d fit nicely under me.

George kept bubbling over with condo board news and gossip about the neighbors. They could srew themselves, for all I cared. I did my best not to let my eyes wander over to my weekend conquest – but I just couldn’t. He had a way of looking over me, twisting the right side of his lips up and looking down at me that had me feeling all smooth inside. Undeniable, I suppose.

“What’re you doing this weekend, honey?” George asked. I turned my head back to him.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, and thought fast. “They’re talking about rebooting the data center, and I might be on call Saturday. Might have to work, dear.”

I got up and went into the restroom, knowing full well that my weekend conquest would follow. No denying it.

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