I like blonds generally. Hell who doesn't. I like lithe supple blonds, the kind which draw you into their soul with their eyes, and who have simple straightforward demeanors. The sort that get your blood going in all the right directions and at the same time melt your heart. What can I say, I'm a sucker for the obvious.
So I was a little surprised when Chet, a stunning twenty year old moved in next door. You see he was a red head. Not the sort that usually catches my eye. But there was something about his carriage that commanded special erotic attention. Maybe it was the muscular swagger. He exuded confidence with every step, as if to say..."yeah, deal with me."
Or perhaps it was the cool contrast of his baby blues with his ruddy freckled face and burnt crimson hair. His eyes were remarkable. They liked to flash whenever he would smile, which was quite often.
Whatever IT was he certainly had IT in abundance. I hadn't found myself so spontaneously attracted to a guy like that in quite a while. Living in this small town had a deadening effect on me. Seeing all of my high school crushes move away and get married one by one brought a heavy blanket over my otherwise upbeat sensibilities. Lost dreams and the press of daily survival ground any hope of living "happily ever after" just about out of me.
Well, almost. I still trucked my thirty year old body to the nearest gay bar thirty miles away. It seemed an exercise in futility, but I went anyway. The campy old queens were good company if nothing else, and it was a place to have a few beers before trucking myself back home.
So I took to the new project of getting to know Chet with some cautious enthusiasm. I figured he'd probably be straight, but what the hell, it's never a wasted effort to get to know someone, especially if they're a hunky bundle of red haired masculinity like Chet.
I fretted over a plan of action. Do I borrow a cup of sugar? No, that would be too nelly, and maybe obvious, I didn't feel like getting my ass kicked. Should I follow him around and hope he noticed me? Hmmm I think they have laws against stalking these days. Well, why not just do the neighborly thing and invite him over to watch the game?
Having settled on a plan, I worried over just how I would carry it out. I decided the direct approach would be best. So I marched right over, butterflies and all, and boldly knocked on his door. Now it's hard to be nonchalant when you're making a direct request of a stranger, but I did my best.
Knock Knock (door opens)
" Hey, I'm your neighbor, thought I'd introduce myself and sort of you know welcome you the neighborhood 'an all."
Yeah, I was smooth all right. The blank look that lasted all of what seemed like ten minutes dissolved into one of his heart stopping smiles.