Reflections in a plate glass window? Who da fuck is that? Walking past a big mirror? Who da fuck is that? Oh sure I knew ... I was still surprised. Th... reflection wasn’t anybody I wanted to know. That guy was the total opposite of how I pictured myself.But ... the first time I saw new myself reflected in a still pond? I meant it.Who da fuck is that?I mean ... I knew I was big now ... but I wasn’t prepared for six foot eight. Aren’t Indians short? The Apaches ... ah ... I get it ... the Apache. When I'm lucky, it usually isn't too long before I'm back in the one ofthe bathrooms, eagerly crowding into a stall the man I've chosen. I'llrub my hands over their bodies, kiss them if they'll let me, then sink tomy knees in front of Bob or Bert or Harry or whatver made-up name they'vegiven me. This first time I was in here I was so excited I thought I was going topass out as my pretty painted fingernails pulled down the zipper on hissuit trousers. I yanked his pants down, my heart beating. More

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