some face was like chiseled granite as he glanced at the two well-dressed fellows adjacent to him.

"Cheez." He muttered under his breath. "Are they queer too?" They looked like real he-men-there was nothing feminine about them.

The clicking of the jukebox and the simultaneous blast of a series of instruments chimed in to wake him from his momentary stupor. As he turned around, he saw that the place had become a writhing, vibrating den

of exotic frenzy.

The whiskey was beginning to give him crazy ideas!

Why not have some fun matching wits with one of these characters?

He ordered several more drinks and glanced at the sundial clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes had passed and the place was still twisting like some uncoiling reptile.

He looked over in the corner near the jukebox, and his now foggy vision focused on a tall well-built blond youth staring at him. For a moment his mind flashed back to his wife. Edith, in Detroit with the baby.

How long would he have to stand this loneliness? He thought to himself, as he looked back to the youth who was now smiling at him.

He shook his head, trying to regain his senses.

"This one's on the house." The bartender's voice made him turn back to the bar. As the bartender smiled. the door opened and in walked a welldressed young man accompained by another well-dressed man walking with a slight swish in his otherwise masculine gait.

For a brief moment. Rod stared in disbelief. For some reason he couldn't explain, a strong surge of excitement took possession of him.

The young man who was standing in the corner smiled and walked over.

"I hope I'm not intruding I'm only trying to be friendly. You look

one

so lonely, and I've never seen you in here before... may I introduce myself?" The smell of highly scented after-saving lotion and a soft perfume tickled his nostrils as he saw the sensitive mouth and even white teeth spread into a warm smile. His tight black pants clung to his shapely limbs. His black shirt contrasted with his short white coat, as the gold medallion at his open throat glistened under the soft lighting.

Rod braced himself as best he could.

"Look. I just came in here for a couple of drinks to cut the chill from the outside. I don't know anything about this kind of life or these people. I'm a man with a wife and a kid in Detroit."

The youth smiled. "I'm sorry if I offended you... it was not intentional. I only came over to you because I thought maybe you wanted company. Usually, when a man comes to a bar like this, he's lonely and desires company, even if it's only someone to talk to.

"Thank you for putting me straight from the start." The young man turned and started to walk off, but Rod called him back.

"No, wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so abrupt."

The youth turned and smiled. He ambled back to the bar with the grace and poise of a well-built athlete.

Rod stared at him in disbelief. Was his imagination playing tricks on him? He even smiled and walked like Edith.

"My name's Jerome . .. all my friends call me Jerry. I hope you'll call me Jerry, too."

Jerry extended a limp hand, and Rod grasped it deftly but firmly. "My name's Rodney, but by friends call me Rod."

"Rodney-that's a pretty namemean it's so masculine, and it fits you perfectly too."

"Thank you." Rod stood up again,

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