One of my (straight) friends, JT, is a cop. We ride motorcycles together in our off-time frequently. I have known him since grade school. We went on different career paths and lost touch while in college. A mutual friend held a party that I attended about 10 years ago. My ol’ pal showed up about the same time that I did, riding our motorcycles to get there. Our friendship renewed based on a mutual interest in motorcycling, we began riding together again from then on.
This past Sunday morning, JT asked me to ride to a pancake breakfast/fundraiser at a fire department in a distant town. Weather was gorgeous. My spouse said, “go for it. Have fun.” When we got there, another guy rode up and parked next to JT. They obviously knew one another by their friendly greeting.
The new guy, let’s call him Tom (not his real name), is a motor officer. He’s about 35 years old, very well built and quite attractive. JT introduced us, and then said, “Tom wanted me to get you two together for reasons he’ll explain.”
Tom said, “nice to meet you. I have some questions. You see, I’m gay…”
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This is a recap of what boots I wore during the past week, including “boots at work.” That is, for labor I did last weekend, as well as what I wore to my office. That’s me — always booted. I changed boots at least once each day, sometimes more often depending on what I am doing, where I am going, and what form of transportation I will be using. Follow along.
Answers (there are more answers than one)…