Tales Of Texas Vampires by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY

A Tale Of Ethan Templeton

I’ve been working on a grandfather’s book of memories, which makes me feel ancient. The cowboy told me that I would remember but I could only speak of it once. So I am writing this now, while I still recall the details, just to prove to myself that even a tenured professor of mathematics and his wife were young and crazy once.

I was on sabbatical in Austin for my thirtieth birthday. Carol and the kids were doing well there but I felt old. Carol still looked like the crazy blonde I’d fallen in love with but I looked much the same then as I do now, as I did when I was eighteen: a nerd. Brown eyes, brown hair going bald, glasses. At least I still swam enough to have a decent build.

Carol really surprised me that year for my birthday. She gave me a certificate good for one fantasy of my choice. We’d talked about it long enough that she knew which one I’d choose: seeing another man make love to her. I wanted John Travolta in “Urban Cowboy;” she wanted Frank Langella in “Dracula.”

Carol found a baby-sitter for my birthday weekend and we were free.

We drove around that Saturday to a lot of different roadhouses, looking for just the right cowboy. We started at the trendy roadhouses and watched dozens of urban cowboys two-step across the floor.

Too fake, said Carol.

We tried other roadhouses, looking for real cowboys. Men who could wrestle a steer or ride a woman.

The roadhouses got dirtier and raunchier as we hunted. We started seeing drunks and bouncers more often than dancers.

Too sloppy, I said.

We wound up after midnight at a roadhouse in the Texas Hill Country under the full moon. We found a table by the wall and looked around while sipping some surprisingly good beer.

We couldn’t see much of the band. The lighting was too bad and they were sheltered behind chicken wire. A few couples were swaying across the floor to some Western swing. Most of the action was at the bar, where men were holding forth over beer and eyeing the available women. They were real cowboys, with scuffed boots and easy drawls.

One man really drew my attention. He was tall and blond, slender but muscled, with a dusty Stetson pulled down over his face. He leaned back against the bar, watching the room like a bored jaguar surveying the wild pig population in Honduras.

He looked like just the man I’d always dreamed of being. I wanted to see his reaction to Carol. I wanted to see him get hot when he saw my little blonde wife. I wanted to hear her moan when he tugged her nipples. I wanted…

I glanced at Carol. She was watching him too. Our eyes met and she nodded, slowly then emphatically.

I stood up and went over to him.

His eyes were very cold while I explained what I wanted. He studied Carol while I talked then looked back at me after I finished.

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