Chapter 1

“Happy Birthday, Bobby! Fuckin’ fine way to

spend a birthday,” Bobby said aloud as he closed the door to his

car and turned the key in the ignition. “Workin’ overtime and no

one waitin’ for me at home.” He continued talking to the rear view

mirror as he adjusted it.

He backed out of his parking space and drove

out of the lot, still feeling sorry for himself and his recent

breakup with his boyfriend.

Well, shit. I oughta celebrate by buyin’

myself a drink. No one else to fuckin’ buy one for me,he

thought bitterly.

He drove past what used to be his favorite

restaurant. He had boycotted the place since they stopped serving

the chef’s salad, The Maurice. He noticed a sign indicating the

place was under new management. Bobby decided to let bygones be

bygones and stop in.

As he walked in the door, he noted they

hadn’t changed the décor very much, but he didn’t recognize any of

the staff.

A cute twink greeted him and asked the stupid

question, “Table for one?”

In his present mood, Bobby almost came back

with, No, for me and my imaginary friend, Harvey, this

six foot white rabbit, you dink.But instead he just

nodded.

Bobby watched the kid’s cute ass undulate as

he was led to his seat. That kind of made up for his stupidity.

Bobby sat down, but before he could open the menu, a pretty

waitress appeared.

“Are you alone?” she asked innocently.

God! Yes, I’m fuckin’ alone!he

screamed at her in his mind. But he merely smiled and said,

“Yes.”

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah, bring me the dirtiest martini you can

and…” He opened the menu. A quick scan brought a smile to his face.

“Oh, my God!”

“Is something wrong, sir?” the waitress

asked, frowning.

“Oh, no, no. I just noticed you are serving

The Maurice again. That’s great.”

She smiled.

“Bring me that. I’ll have the martini first,

though, and a glass of chardonnay with the salad. It’s my

birthday,” he added, wondering why he did.

After the waitress left he sat back, feeling

better about his birthday. The return of The Maurice had

considerably lifted his spirits. Maybe someone up there liked him

after all.

When the waitress returned with his drink,

she said, “This one’s on the house. Happy birthday.”

Yes, things were definitely looking up.

As Bobby sipped his martini, he looked around

the restaurant. Being a Thursday night, it wasn’t very busy. Aside

from a few people sitting at the tables, the only other customers

were two guys at the bar. Bobby gave them the once over. Pretty

nice, he thought.

One looked to be a bit younger than Bobby,

the other older, but both were in good shape. They were talking

easily with each other as they sipped their drinks.

After giving him time to enjoy his martini,

the waitress showed up with his salad and wine. He thanked her and

began to eat his meal. It was excellent. They had used the same

tasty dressing that had made the salad his favorite. A feeling of

well being began to creep over him.

As he was finishing the last of the salad,

the waitress came back to his table, carrying another martini.

“This is from the gentlemen at the bar. They

said to wish you a happy birthday.”

“How did they know it was my birthday?” Bobby

asked, taking the drink from her and saluting the men, who were

smiling in his direction.

“I think the bartender might have mentioned

it,” she said, placing the leather bill holder on the table.

Bobby was feeling a little buzzed from the

combination of the wine and gin, but he figured what the hell and

took a deep drink of the cocktail.

When he had drained the glass, he definitely

felt the effects of his imbibing. Alcohol always made him horny.

Today was no exception. He decided to thank his well wishers in

person. He got up, carrying the tab, and walked to the bar, handing

the leather folder to the waitress on the way.

“It’s all set,” he told her. Approaching the

men, he said, “Hey, thanks, guys. Nice of you to buy a drink for a

stranger.”

“No problem,” the taller of the two men

replied, moving onto another stool to make room for Bobby between

the two of them. “I’m Larry, and this is Dan.”

Bobby shook hands with them both as he slid

onto the recently vacated stool. He felt the warmth of the seat

where the man had been sitting. It caused a stirring in his

groin.

For the next couple of hours the men

bullshitted about the NCAA tourney and the fucked up economy. Bobby

found out they were sales reps for a pharmaceutical company in town

for the semiannual company update on new products and policies.