"How can you tell?" she said. "She's beautiful, she's feminine, she's got a real job!"
"You know how I can tell?" I said. "Her butt's too long."
"Greg, that's the stupidest thing Ive ever heard you say!"
"Honey, that butt runs half way down her thighs! And you know what that means?"
That meant trouble. And I told her that. But when Fran gets all in a whirl about someone, she's deaf, dumb and blind. Aren't we all?
"Are you drawing today, Mr. Shamus, or were you planning to sit there and stare into space? This is an art class after all," Ms. Moon whined over my shoulder jolting me out of my reverie.
"Uh, sorry," I said. I took a deep breath closing my eyes, and when I breathed out, I opened them to concentrate on the model on the stage.
And then all I could think was 'My oh my oh my oh my oh my" His was a beautiful body. Not huge, like so many of the boys at the gym who were like overstuffed gorillas. He was magnificent. His body, even motionless, was emanating energy. Coiled in the stance of a discus thrower -- what the hell kind of pose is that anyway??? - he radiated raw power.
I shifted in my chair, uncomfortably, because I could feel myself reacting to this gorgeous male. All of a sudden I felt both elated and depressed because I was looking at this man and I knew my pencil could never do his beauty justice. I wanted to explore him with my hands -- feel the definition of his arms, his legs, his back. Then I might be able to render him with truthfulness. Just then, he shifted his position a bit and looked my way. And when I looked into his eyes, I almost fainted.
After class, I purposefully took my time getting my stuff together, strategizing how to meet him. Who was this guy? Such symmetry in his build, elegance in his line. The dressing area was cordoned off by some folding panels, so I took a now or never breath and went right over to say hello.
"Hi, I'm Greg..." His back was to me, and I put my hand out, but when he turned around it wasn't his hand I was shaking.....
