Chapter 1 – Fishin'
"Don't forget to wipe those bottles before you leave," a woman's voice called from around the corner. From the raspy, harsh sound of it, he knew who it was. "I don't wanna hear people say they're sticky."
Dylan was filling ketchup bottles at his job, Sweet Nora's, and his boss, Lynora Watley, was her usual "jovial" self. He grabbed a clean, wet towel and began polishing the stupid bottles when she came around the corner. Her white-gray hair was carefully done up in a backcomb style that had gone out in the 1970's.
"I know you can't wait to get out to your whoring around but that doesn't mean the job's finished," she wagged her finger at him. Dylan blushed. To Lynora, going out for a couple of beers and dancing was "whoring around." Well, maybe she was a little right when it came to his social plans but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.
"I'm just having a fun night out. That doesn't mean I'm going out to pick up just anyone," he said smirking. "I do have standards." She knew his modus operandi though. Dylan probably would be scouting the local talent for some action later. He just didn't want to admit that to her. "I'm just meeting Kenny and Sarah for a drink and then a little hoedown action at the Rail."
"I know what kind of "hoe" you're down for Dylan," she laughed. "Remember, you're closing tomorrow night so don't toss back too many."
"You flatter me Nor. I'm not that big of a party animal and you know it."
Dylan was tempted to say, "You should talk" to his boss, but she was more than that to him. She'd never had children, though she'd been married three times. Once she had off-handedly said the business was her baby. Dylan figured it was more like her staff were her children. She was stern and opinionated but when the chips were down, she was there for them. She certainly had been for Dylan over the past four years.
"You need to settle down with a nice boy," she said for the umpteenth time. Ever since he'd starting working for Lynora, she'd made it her mission to set him up with a "nice boy." Trouble was, Dylan wasn't interested in "nice boys," especially the kind she kept trying to push onto him. Every college age fratboy she met who was gay was "just perfect" for him. Why do straight people think all gay men are only interested in a pretty face? Most of the "nice boys" she'd introduced him to were as shallow as mud puddles and not terribly manly. Dylan liked real men. He wasn't into the twink –of-the-month club. He wanted a real man of substance; unfortunately they are few and far between.
"I'm in no hurry to settle down," Dylan said putting the last freshly wiped ketchup bottle on the rack. "I'm still young and want to sew some wild oats, as your generation says." She just shook her head at the redhead.
"You ain't that young Dylan. Besides, you've planted many a field of wild oats. Time to start plantin' some of the domesticated type." He just smiled at her. He was only 24. Dylan did want to meet someone special but it would have to be on his terms. He hoped tonight would be a good start. It was country night at the Rail and figured some nice cowboy would wanna lasso him and put his brand on Dylan's rear. Not that he was into the kinky stuff, at all.
"Don't worry. I'll be fresh as a daisy tomorrow evening. You won't even know I'd been out being a naughty boy," the waiter quipped. She just grinned, shooing him off with both hands. He went in back, grabbed his backpack, and was out the door to go home and get ready for the evening.
The randy, young man stepped out into the bright, harsh lights of the mall. Sweet Nora's is in the Eastdale Mall and it was pretty empty on this late summer afternoon. He started walking toward the glass doors past the Sunglass Hut when something distracted him. Two cute guys were standing close to each other by the kiosk. One was carefully placing a pair of sunglasses on the other's face. His partner struck a pose and they both laughed. The infectious sound traveled across the mall to his ears. It was kinda sweet how they were so, Dylan thought, together. He smiled to himself and then, bang. He walked into the glass door.
