do? My God, if that were a horse they'd have shot it years ago."

George turned and studied his companion critically. "Well it didn't look so bad earlier this afternoon. You know, it is kind of a mess, isn't it." "Well really!" shrieked the fagged out faggot. "Would you two stop talking about me as if I were a ghost, as if I weren't even here!"

"I wish you were a ghost," I informed him. "That way you wouldn't be so hard on my nerves. And I have more news. You'd just as well not be here, because you aren't going to be a minute from now.'

"Oh George!" the old thing gasped. "Take me home; get me away from that horrid creature!"

"I think I will," George agreed. "You are pretty awful. I don't even want to think about it.”

"In a flash they were both out the door. I went to the bathroom for a glass of water, then poured it over the bed. Moments later someone had come to change my sheets, and I was apologizing for my clumsiness. Perhaps, I mused, there were worse things than going to seed.

The next day George and I discussed the situation.

"Really, George, you've simply got to be more discerning. You don't have to have anything to do with stuff like that. That's not scraping the bottom of the barrel, it's going under it. Gruesome as you are, you can still demand better than that. I just wish you'd promise me that you'd improve your taste a bit. If nothing else, think of your wife and kids!"

BEFORE ANOTHER MONTH had passed I had entered into a state of glassy-eyed doldrums. In all honesty, everything in my life had come to pieces, but then that wasn't so all-fired unusual for me that I couldn't take it. No, the main problem was the seeds. By this time I had gone so thoroughly to seed that the only thing left to do would be to be planted all over again. For four grim months now I had endured total, nerve-jerking celibacy, a saintly condition under which no half-sane man could be expected to bear up. Well, I wasn't bearing up, and by now I was at best only half-sane. And if anyone wants to know why this marathon of virtue, well I don't know. If I had known I'd have done something about it. I guess the only explanation was that nothing came along, despite my considerable efforts. Perhaps the truth of the matter is that I'm a little discerning, unlike old George whose motto is "If it functions, use it!"

Boredom having damn near stifled me, I decided that I could at least drive down again and be alarmed by George. We might even manage a little argu-

ment or two.

"Four months!" he gasped. "Charlie, baby, we'll notify the Pope. Péople have been canonized for less than that."

"People have gone stark, raving mad for less than that, Georgie, baby. mattachine REVIEW

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But how about you? No, don't tell me, you..."

"... Have a date tonight, right!"

"Yes, well much as I envy you it's probably some unspeakable pig."

"So what's the matter, you don't like bacon?"

Before I could fling back a befitting retort there came a ring at my door. "Your friend?" I asked, disgusted.

"Who else?" he grinned, then got up to answer it. "And how, pray, did he know my room number?"

"I know the room clerk, my saintly ruin. Now may I open the door?" "Why not? Maybe I'll have a good cry before I go to bed."

With my back to the door I lit a cigarette and listened to their voices. "Hi," George greeted cheerily. "Come on in."

"Hi, George; hope I'm not late," came a surprisingly young voice. "You couldn't have timed it better."

Curiosity having completely overtaken me, I turned in my chair and there beside George was a young man in his mid-twenties, as unnervingly beautiful as I had ever seen. Nearly six feet tall, exceptionally well built, and white-golden blond, his deep azure eyes sparkled as his red lips split into a shattering smile when he saw me.

"Well I'll be damned," I said to George. "Now this is more like it. I don't care if you are trying to impress me. He's simply gorgeous; that's all there is to it."

The young man seemed to be fighting off a blush. "Thank you-that's very flattering." Who'd have believed it? Not only was he beautiful; he was also modest.

Of course all this did absolutely nothing for my own state of mental affairs. In truth, it might have been better had George produced one of his typical pigs. At least I wouldn't have been completely shell-shocked with jealousy. I decided I might have that cry lafer on after all.

George put his arm aroung the handsome young man's shoulder, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Well, Charlie, baby," he began, then pulled away from the young man and started for the door, "like I said, I have a date tonight." He was almost out the door when he flung back, "You two have fun!"

I sat for a long stupid moment, completely slack-jawed, grappling des+ perately with the situation. The best I could do was to ask myself, "What the hell is going on?"

The blond young Adonis grinned brightly, approached me and took my hand,

"Hello," he said gently. "Please call me Robbie."