Even the schlubbiest bartenders get shameless solicitations when their patrons are properly lubricated; fucking a bartender topped so many bucket lists. My mere existence as a six-foot-two dude who can make a simple old-fashioned bumps me higher on a stranger’s “fuck-it” list even though I have to be the least horny bachelor in Brooklyn.… Continue Reading
We stripped him naked and painted him blue. Water-based acrylic, so it wouldn’t kill him. It was a warm night. He’d be fine.… Continue Reading
We all get up and go outside to finish the deal. I bring my slice along to watch, folded because we’re in New York and when in Rome. Outside, it’s seventy-five degrees. Tony’s jacket seems excessive, but, hey, he’s the boss. … Continue Reading
Arthur’s ex-wife thought it was a bad joke when he said he felt most fully alive in a fog, but he didn’t see what was funny about it. No one joked about scuba divers who were happiest groping along the bottom of the ocean.… Continue Reading
You could feel the history between the cracks in the conversation. Old-timers and industry movers in their prime, resonated complete with the adult contemporary jazz ambiance. At the end of the line of booths, he was greeted by a familiar face.… Continue Reading
Randall didn’t think that 53 was so old, and surely it was the other guy who fucked up his car by passing Randall and cutting in front of him, but before he could raise an objection, the guy had reached into his car and pulled out a gun.… Continue Reading
Not being from Texas, I’d never heard of a prison rodeo. But somehow shooting people from the semi-privacy and convenience of your car, DRIVE FRIENDLY, and prison bull riding, all hooked up seriatim, seemed to be related.… Continue Reading
“I would hate me too, if I were you,” the boy said to the spaghetti. “Let’s pretend that this is all new, all fresh, that nothing bad has ever happened, that we are meeting just now for the first time.”… Continue Reading
A maverick poet and old friend asked if I’d like to replace him teaching prison inmates. Why me? I wondered, and didn’t ask. Men I know don’t often speak directly, even to friends. If pressed, my friend might not have said. Anyway, I can’t ask. He died not long after from a heart attack.… Continue Reading
The Santa Claus suit drooped from Clive’s bony arms. It fit him like adult clothing does a twelve-year-old. He pulled a needle from his arm and placed it with the others.… Continue Reading