Gaylife.com by Neil Plakcy

Gaylife.com by Neil Plakcy

Author:Neil Plakcy [Plakcy, Neil]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 16

SAL IN THE MOONLIGHT

Sal called me at work on Monday afternoon. “I am thinking

if you work at someplace called Gay Life they are not worried

you get a phone call from a guy,” he said. “Is all right?”

“Sure. I’m glad you called.”

“I want to ask you if you like to rollerblade.”

“It’s OK,” I said. “I’m not that great.”

“Can you like to meet after you are finished with your work?

Nicolo’s parents, they take him to dinner with his grandparents

tonight. Maybe we meet at the beach and rollerblade for a

while?”

“That sounds like fun.”

I had to dig through my closet to find my rollerblades, as

well as the knee and elbow pads. Sean offered to lend me his

bike helmet.

“Mondo dorky, dude,” I said. “Plus it would mess up my

hair. I mean, after all, this is a date, not a competitive event.”

“Dating is always a competitive event.”

I couldn’t decide what to wear. I remembered Sal in nylon

shorts and a tank top, but that combo exposed too much flesh

for me. I settled on a pair of cargo shorts and a T-shirt that

Stella had bought me once in San Francisco. It read, “Only

visiting this planet.” I was running late by then, so I bladed out

to Washington Avenue and caught a cab down to South Pointe.

“Hard to get much exercise on those if you ride in cabs,” the

driver said, pointing to my rollerblades.

“Hard to get good tips if you make smart remarks to the

customers,” I said. I sat back and watched the street pass. Three

Canadian backpackers trudged past The Primal Urge piercing

salon. An elderly couple I thought might be Nana Mary and her

124 Neil S. Plakcy

boyfriend Abe boarded one of the yellow and black Electric

Wave shuttle buses, and a fleet of orange and red scooters were

parked in front of the Berlin Bar. There wasn’t much traffic, but

what there was drove poorly, switching lanes at random,

stopping in front of restaurants to check out the menu, cruising

slowly in search of a parking place. The cab stopped and started

all the way down the street, and I kept looking at my watch, not

wanting to be late for my first date.

Sal was waiting for me in the cul-de-sac at the foot of

Collins Avenue, lazily skating backwards in zigzags. His face lit

up when I climbed out of the cab, even though I nearly fell over

when I lost my balance and one rollerblade flew out from under

me. He grabbed my arm to steady me, and I thought, wow, I like

that.

We skated over to the beach and started up along the

curving path. I was shaky, so Sal took my hand as we skated. It

felt wonderful and romantic, the two of us skating along

holding hands as the sun was going down and the moon rising.

He was so patient and gentle, and I could see how great he

must be with kids.

We didn’t talk much; I was concentrating too hard on

skating, but he humored me. We stopped for dinner at The

Front Porch, which was at the northern end of Ocean Drive.

“So tell me about you,” I said. “Where are you from?”

“I come from a small town outside Caracas,” he said.



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