"Say, would like a ride?" the middle aged man in the aging Ford Fairlane called out as he pulled up to the bus stop where the solitary young man stood waiting for a bus that the older gentleman knew wouldn't be coming for quite a while.
"It's the weekend and they only run every hour or so," the man continued after the youth shook his head in response to the offer after a few seconds of contemplation. "Heck, it's no problem for me. I've got nothing to do and a tank full of gas so I'd be happy to take you anywhere."
"I live in Colonie," the boy replied, referring to a suburb of the state capital which was quite a convoluted trek away from here by public transportation.
"All the more reason to take me up on the offer," the balding man responded, looking around to make sure he wasn't holding up traffic. "Last chance..."
The skinny kid in the bell-bottom jeans and hair that was relatively short and trimmed by the standards of 1974 also looked around and then peeked into the car as if to appraise the danger of getting into a car with someone he didn't know.
"What's the matter? Your Mom tell you not to take rides with strangers?" the man said with a smile.
"Well, yeah," the kid replied.
"You don't do everything she says do you? I mean, I'm sure she told you not to go into adult bookstores either, right?"
The man in the car, divorced father of two Herb Duncan, was enjoying seeing the kid's face turn red at that comment but threw in, "Hey, just having fun with you. I was your age once myself you know, believe it or not."
Herb had been 18 once, but that was almost 35 years ago and as he waited for the lad's decision he thought back to those days. days when he was cute and desirable like the young fellow at the bus stop.
He had taken men up on the offers they made, and in retrospect he should have listened to his heart instead of doing what was expected. Men in the 1940's where expected to get married and have kids, and although not all did, most had and so did Herb.
Now divorced and free to live the life he wanted, Herb was no longer playing the suburban husband grilling burgers by the pool. Instead he was trying to coax a young man into his car, a young man who looked a lot like he was back in the day. Alone, lonely, confused and needing a friend, and in Herb's mind that friend was him.
"Okay," the lad said, and as he stepped toward the car Herb noticed that the young man walked with a limp, something he hadn't really noticed in the book store, and he got into the front seat awkwardly as well.
"Name's Herb," the older man said in offering his hand before getting the car in motion, and after the young fellow shyly stuck his sweaty hand out he told the man his name was Paul.
"Well Paul, I see you didn't buy anything," Herb commented while glancing over to the passenger side, and when Paul looked confused Herb added, "At the Cinema Art bookstore I mean."
"Oh - uh - no," Paul finally managed to get out.
"Me neither," Herb replied. "You hurt your leg or something? Noticed you limping."
"No - I mean - well - that's the way I am," Paul mumbled, and when Herb realized that the boy felt awkward and ashamed at being less than perfect he leaned over and gave Paul's leg - the good one - a light squeeze.
"Hey, it's all right," Herb said softly. "None of us are perfect, and if it means anything to you, I think you look great and when I saw what section of the bookstore you were browsing through you got even more attractive. Do you know what I mean?"
"I - I think so," Paul stuttered.
"You know there's an adult bookstore in Schenectady," Herb recalled. "Come to think of it there's a couple I know of. How come you don't go there. A lot easier to get there from where you live."
"I did - I mean I know," Paul stammered. "I - I can't go to the one on Erie Boulevard any more."
"That so?" Herb said. "You get caught stealing?"
"No," Paul said. "I - uh - was in a booth and this man came in and - well the clerk came in and saw what the man was doing to me and, well I was lonely and it was stupid."
"Who among us hasn't been? So you weren't just glancing at the gay magazines by mistake? You've been with another guy before?" Herb asked, his hand now kneading the skinny thigh through the jeans.
"Um... couple times," Paul admitted as the car rolled along the city streets.
"Probably not with an old geezer like me though, I'll bet," Herb joked.
"No. I mean, you're not that old," Paul said as he looked over at the virtual stranger with the thinning hair and the pleasant smile. "Besides, I like older guys. The other times were with men like you - you know? Kids my age aren't interested in a guy like me."
"Their loss. You don't mind me asking - exactly what is your age? I noticed that the clerk didn't proof you, and they are usually strict. You are 18 aren't you Paul?"
"No," Paul said, causing Herb's hand to fly off his leg before the lad continued. "I'm 19. The guy knows me by now I think. I usually just go back and watch a movie in a booth for a few minutes and leave, but today I kinda saw you looking at me and I was hoping - you know?"
"You meet a lot of guys that way?"
"No," Paul said. "That time in the movie booth the guy - he was talking to me outside but I chickened out. He looked scarier in the light than he did in the dark."
"Understandable," Herb agreed. "I'm curious why you got into my car then."
"I dunno why I did. Maybe it's because you looked like somebody I could trust," Paul said.
"You're right there," Herb said as his hand returned to the passenger's leg. "Although I have to admit while I would never hurt a fly, the things that are going through my mind about you aren't exactly pure. Does that bother you?"
"No," Paul said, his body shuddering a bit at the words. "Not used to that though. People thinking about me that way I mean."
"I have a place not too far away," Herb said. "It isn't much but - or would you rather we go to yours?"
"No. My Mom..." Paul said as his voice trailed off.
"Oh. You live with your folks?"
