Untitled. (beginning something. looking to see where it takes itself. no expectations.)

Phone rang.

Phone answered.

Low voices beating around figurative bushes of the pubic sort. The words–understandable. The intention–decoder ring required. Or maybe it was the other way around. The intentions made more sense than the words, too polite to come out and say what was up…what could go down. The long and short of it–pun intended–a penis and vagina schemed on meeting for the first time. The 2 mouths, that had never kissed, stammered over words that tried to indirectly broach the subject out of respect, with too many years of curiosity bubbling beneath the surface. With equal parts cool and Southern drawl, he low talked the question.

“You comin’?” 

Got us straight to the point.

I responded.

Hit ‘end’.

Grabbed my keys.


That was the beginning of the “thing”. It was the end of my good sense. His one question didn’t make me pause long enough–proof positive that I wasn’t in my right mind. It happens.

Comfortable shoes and a medium sized bucket of Mountain Dew and I was strapped into my gas guzzler and headed up and over two states. XM radio was set to comedy so I could avoid having to laugh at myself. 


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