” There he was, perhaps the only person whom I actually might have wanted more than Karen. He was wearing a pair of Richard Simmons shorts and a mus...le shirt. He was barefoot and his feet were very feminine. No more than a size 6. “Hello, beach boy,” he uttered with a little flick of his long eyelashes. He had told me he loved my blonde-haired, blue-eyed surfer look last week at the bar. “Hey Carlos,” I sort of whispered. Karen stood off to the side arms akimbo. “Karen told me you were going to. ’ ‘Oh,’ she smiled. ‘And what part of town do you normally drink in.’ ‘Well,’ I confessed. ‘It’s usually Camden St. after Camera Club meetings.’ We laughed. And as I lent forward I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘So when’s your last bus?’ She sipped her drink. ‘Oh don’t worry about that,’ I wondered if that was a gentle hint that I wouldn’t be going back to her place. I sipped my drink. ‘I’ll walk you home if you like,’ I suggested causally. ‘OK,’ she smiled back. ‘That’d be nice.’ And I thought,. More

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