Date: Thu, 25 Jan 2007 01:43:57 +0000
From: Eros434759@comcast.net
Subject: Grocery Boy Part 14

This story contains gay themes and graphic depictions of
homosexuality.  If this offends you, then you probably
shouldn't read it.  I welcome any and all comments and
appreciate all of the feedback I have previously received.
I'd also like to say thanks to the folks at Nifty

     The next few weeks were painful.  I worked I ate, I
slept and the rest of the time I avoided contact with
everyone. Mark invited me to dinner, but I declined.  I
stopped answering my phone when I realized Chris was not
going to call. I even avoided Ai.  The nights were the
worst.  I like to think I'm not a baby, but I spent more
than a few nights crying.

     "You got what you deserved" I reasoned to myself. "You
got too big for your britches and had to be taken down a
notch."

     At work, I kept my door closed and the blinds drawn. It
was a horrible summer.  Work.  Eat.  Sleep.  That was my
routine.  Gradually, the summer came to a close.  In my mind
I anticipated Chris' return, but realistically I knew he
wouldn't be coming back to me.  I closed myself off from my
friends and life in general.  This was even worse than the
break-up with David.
     Late one evening, after hiding out at the office,
pretending that I was working late, I came home and for
absolutely no reason, I had a drink.  The Merlot was
delicious.  I sat on the floor in the living room and drank
wine.  The wine was what I needed.  I drank slowly, enjoying
the bouquet, swirling it to bring out the flavor. I looked
at the room. Suddenly everything seemed clearer.

"Why are you wasting your time on this?"  I asked myself.

I wondered if it was the wine working on me.  I had a desire
to go out.  I wanted to go to a gay bar.  I wanted to pick
up some random guy and get laid.  In a moment of drama, I
threw the glass into the fireplace and watched it shatter.
I stood up and pressed the wrinkles out of my slacks and
started up the stairs.  I'd need to shower and shave.  I
went into the bathroom and took a long shower.  The hot
water felt good on my body.  I took a loofah and scrubbed my
body all over.  While still in the shower, I gave myself a
nice close shave.  I wanted to be at the top of my game.  I
got out of the shower, and coated my body with lotion.  I
looked at myself in the mirror.  Heartbreak is a great
dietary tool.  I had shed 8 to 10 pounds.  I flossed and
brushed my teeth.  I studied my skin.  I looked good.  Still
naked, I walked into the bedroom.  I looked through my
closet, selecting a pair of tailored slacks and tight tee
shirt.  Next I pulled out a pair of my sexiest underwear.  I
grabbed my cock ring from dresser.  Might as well show off
the goods, I reasoned. Finally I selected some socks and
some loafers.  I thought about adding jewelry, but decided
against it.  With everything laid out in front of me, I
studied it.

"This look should get me laid." I thought.

Then I walked over to the bed and climbed in.  I turned out
the light and went to sleep.  I repeated this process
several times over the next few weeks.  Each time with the
same result.  I simply didn't have the desire to go out in
public.  I just felt I wasn't ready.  It wasn't just going
out.  I didn't have the desire to be around people.  But I
knew I had to do something to bring myself out of this funk.
     It was late September, when I finally started.  I had
spent the day painting the guest bedroom and was sore from
stretching to paint the ceiling.  I thought I'd go to movie
to relax.  I picked an art film hoping the theatre wouldn't
be crowded and I could stretch out.  I arrived at the
theatre and took a seat near the back row.  Luckily the
movie was not popular and not many people showed up.
However, the cramped confines of the seat and my sore
muscles from painting made the experience un-enjoyable.  I
tried to wrap myself up in the movie, but found I had to
leave two thirds of the way through.
     It was a nice night so, I thought I'd walk.  I thought
the walk might loosen up my muscles and I wasn't in the mood
to go home to an empty house.  The theatre was located in a
small strip mall.  I walked around just sort of window
shopping.  I stopped and stood lingering in front of a small
boutique.  I wasn't really looking just kind of lost in
thought.
     Presently I realized someone was standing next to me.
I looked over and saw Ai.

     "You gonna hide out forever?" she asked.

     "I'm not hiding" I replied.

     "Really, cause I talked to Mark and he says you've
become a hologram at work" she said.

     "I'm having some issues." I began.

     "Look at me" she began "This is me you're talking to"
she continued.

     "Alright, I've been avoiding some people" I said.

     "The first step" she said.  "Look, I don't know what
happened in Pittsburgh, but I know you've been a different
person since you got back.  You're sullen and morose and
avoiding all of the people that might be able to help." She
said.

     "Ai." I began.

     "No.  Tomorrow, you and me, Lucky's" she said matter of
factly.  She started to walk away.  "And lose those shoes"
she continued not looking back.

     "I was going for comfort" I yelled after her.

     "They're ugly as fuck" she yelled back.

I stood looking in the window of the boutique.  Could I do
this?  Leave it to Ai to body slam me back into reality.

     The following night I pulled myself together enough to
head over to Lucky's.  I dressed carefully and made sure I
was wearing some nice shoes.  The place was crowded and
initially I didn't see Aisha.  Then I saw her waving near
the back room.  As I got closer, I saw Mark and Wendy, then
Daisy and Lyndsay, Rob, Joel, David, even Ralph was there
along with several other people from our poker group.

"What the hell was going on?" I asked myself.

I walked up to Ai.

"What's up?" I asked.

"This is an intervention" she said.

"A what?" I asked.  Was she kidding?

"Let's go." She said taking me by the arm and leading me to
the back room.

Inside the room was a gay man's wet dream.  Eight gloriously
hot men.

"Um, what." I began.
"You can't go on mourning Chris." Wendy said.

"We've assembled an assortment of men of every race and
size, you're going home with someone tonight" Mark added.

"You can't be serious" I said. "I can't just snare one of
these guys and say let's go"

"Nope." Lyndsay began, "We're going to have some fun"

Then she called for the waiter to bring some Tequila and
start a running tab.

"It's going to be a long night" she said.

To be continued.