He’s old, I estimate about 60, gray hair, a small beard, black suit and tie, can and a briefcase, the last 2 are on the ground next to him. “I’m...sorry sir.” I apologize and help him up. I hand him his cane and note the knob on it, it’s in the shape of a demons head. “No problem son, say you look like a fine guy.” He says. “Thank you sir, but I should really get going, I need to get home.” I say, the old geezer is starting to annoy me. “Oh yes of course but first let me give you something.” He. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, I was looking at Connie McLaughlin.I'd seen Connie around the places where gay girls normally went, like Sulli's or Pheasant Run, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was exactly what I wanted in a woman; she was taller than my five feet ten, she looked physically fit and she had an aura of self-assurance about her that I was sorely lacking. Sadly, I'd never had the nerve to approach her for so much as a dance, never mind a date. I'd been taught. More

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