40th birthday special

We could easily call this place a den or a sty. This tiny watering hole for sure never passed a health inspection so we can only find delight in the company; and not necessarily with the one stuck in the wall.

An endless shady alley that forks in two streets awaits outside the bar. Inside one finds no more than several tables and sloppy chairs, the counter, and a tiny restroom. Those two glazed walls of this little corner can contain no more.

The same faces from Monday to Friday. Kessler leaning over one of the tables, me all crestfallen by the counter, the lethargic owner, and once in a while some youngster for a couple of hours of one-armed bandit frenzy after a dull working day.

"We could go to the cinema." Kessler says either half sober or in an apathetic way I'm not sure.

"What do you want to see?" I reply not even looking back.

"I don't know... or care." He says.

"No. I'm not going without a plan and needing to negotiate over there." I say. "Those of us whiners..." was my little payback from an earlier argument.

"Whichever you want then. What do you want to see?" He insists.

"No fucking way." I shouldn't even bother to explain but there I go.

"I pass. I don't want to see anything interesting for me and have you there making wild gesticulations as if you were an orchestra conductor or commenting smarty things such as...you'll see now how she escapes at the end... or...another super-hero typical sentence..."

"You don't know how to behave as a secondary even during your friends' weddings. No way!" I conclude.

"Psee! how could you." He says while the impassible owner cleans the counter. Then back to silence. Each one back to his thoughts and another lost afternoon.

Until, the door opens. And wow!

The desperate search for news from such a lame clientele must be a pathetic view for such a beautiful girl. I turn back towards my soda cup to avoid making her uncomfortable. Yes: even my drink is lame, I think to myself.

Tight jeans, loose white jersey with dark horizontal stripes apparently covering a high octane load. Also carrying a traveling backpack and smiley face, with long hazel messy hair just down her shoulders. Meaty cheeks. Eyes? how would I know... I didn't have time.

As usual, I see that I'm the only one who turned back to hide my desires. Someone will have to attend customers but Al has never excelled at good service. She leans over the counter to ask for a drink.

Kessler stands up and moves closer to her. The same old show is about to start. I'm by the corner and decide to take a chair at get away. I never liked playing this. I hope he won't expect me to help... I don't like to meet new people.

They start talking and introduce each other. This cool vibes facade damn brings him good results many times. I can't stand it so I try to read something and disappear. I focus on a chess puzzle from today's newspaper. God, I'm so bad at positional advantages. If it's not solved by mate I won't make it.

Laughs, flirting, knowing smiles. Looking straight to the eyes, involuntary grazes... all his repertoire on her and she seems pleased.

As always, he introduces us two. I believe that having friends helps hiding his hunter intentions. That or it's only that the short talk we have allows him planning his next steps.

Sam, nice sweet name for an easy smile girl. I come back to my chess.

"Bishop to e5." He tells me.

Yeah, that need to appear as better than me was inevitable. Could he be right? Maybe. He was checking the newspaper earlier too, so he might as well have gone through the solutions. But maybe. I'll never know.

Even when I try not to, I hear them talk. The more I see him in action, the more his ability to turn into someone else to get women astonishes me. And he succeeds. I know I'm doing something wrong, but it's not fair.

Those thoughts flood my mind while I continue with the puzzle. White moves and wins. It's not that I'm having a bad day... I'm not getting this And yet I continue calculating ending variants.

I look at them out of the corner of my eye when they start kissing. A long kiss that turns into passion, open mouths and all that. He holds her waist trying to reach beneath her thin jersey. She redirects his hands to her shoulders... to her butt. They hug, they hold heads and stroke each other's hair.

There it is, I think, and go back to my thing. This last variant didn't take me anywhere either.

I try not to look but it's hard in such a small room. I forget about the puzzle, I'm not going to make it so just like this, my daily dose of frustration is over.

I get out and sit just by the sidewalk curb. How easy life was when curbs were used to play marbles. As an adult a light observation of the buildings and balconies around tells you that this is a pretty depressed area.

Meanwhile the bar tender inside cuts their intention to continue groping in the restroom short. After some chatting and drinking to cool down, Kessler comes out. Sam is getting all fixed up in the bathroom. We're heading home... with her.

"What a pair of tits dude! what a pair of tits!" He tells me moving his hands grotesquely.

His attitude changes totally when she comes out and his affectionate manners come back. We smile at each other.

Then we start walking. She grabs his waist and he leans on her arm behind her neck while she holds his hand above her shoulder. Home... funny I hadn't noticed that detail. This all is really going to get uncomfortable.

I walk behind leaving some space for intimacy. He's telling her stories about town and she seems captivated. From time to time they kiss. This pace takes us to our apartment almost by pure inertia when it's already getting dark.

I'm still wondering about our upcoming issue while we take the narrow stairs up to the second floor. It's going to get uncomfortable that's for sure.

I open our front door. While we walk the narrow entrance corridor I see how Kessler's girlfriend waiting in the living room straightens up as a peacock. Once possibly one of the most tense introductions in history ends, her mood is even worse. He always brag about what a modern couple they are but this is the first time he's bought home a hookup.

Definitively I chose wrong the day I thought that sharing apartment with a friend was a good idea. Not only his habits are a constant pain, but also when his girlfriend stays for the week it's all very suffocating.

Today I really feel down. I excuse myself and head out; I don't want to be part of the show. He looks at me defiant and pretty pissed off. Yeah, I knew he counted on me to help but I give up with the world right now. I just want to go to bed.

The following day I wake up with a headache and a spectacular case of morning wood. In a while I get the latter fixed; several kleenex help to leave no trace. For the former their dinner for three seemed quiet but after that I can only guess. Several door slams and what sounded like furtive steps up and down the corridor and whispering people's names made it difficult to get some sleep.

I go to the kitchen for breakfast and there she is: wearing just a long white camisole that barely covers her white panties and a pair of (guess) long white socks. Damn, she is dead gorgeous.

Kessler and his girlfriend were still in bed. I take some milk and cookies and sit in front of her.

"Sam, you don't really care about the problems you're causing around, right?"

"See honey, I'm just passing by. And I felt like something to do until my train leaves later today." Then adds "Besides Billy sweetie, take my advice: you have to learn that girls like to get attention from men. You can't be so uptight always."

She read me like an open book, I have to admit.

"I don't like to play with people's feelings." I answer back.

For the first time since, her careless free spirited soul seems touched. She looks down to her coffee cup with some sort of embarrassment or guilt.

"I was not meaning you, Sam." I add. And I mean it.

"Thank you." She sighs offering me a friendly smile. Then she extends her arm to touch the back palm of my hand with her finger tips, which makes my limp penis twitch.

We talk some and I get to know some details from last evening. Weird and uncomfortable to say the least. So happy I hid in my room.

I sensed from Eileen (that's Kessler's girlfriend) that she was really pissed off by our guest presence. Sam thought Eileen was cute. Who knows.

Apparently today Eileen is busy and Kessler and Sam will pick up and take Eileen's son to his primary school costumes parade. He'll get rid of his girlfriend for a while and must be desperately planning on how to get inside Sam's pants. How these three decided this was a sensible idea escapes my intelligence.

Already regretting, and mumbling to my insides in anger, an hour later I find myself by Kessler and Eileen's son, Bobby, around a big square where the parade is about to start.

We are waiting for Sam, who left earlier to get some costume for herself.

Bobby, an adorable 6 year-old dressed as mini-Hulk, whose only handicap in life was to be son of two horrible parents and his mom's boyfriend couldn't care less about him, is distracted chatting with other little classmates.

Kessler himself all dressed up with his Tony Manero outfit. I knew that he'd be deploying all those dance moves that get him frequent make ups at discos.

And me and my sorrowful countenance... of course I didn't consent to go dressed up. As if it wasn't enough that Kessler's plan implies that I'll take care of Bobby while he does Sam in the backseat of my car.

After some minutes we and everybody from that school (teachers, kids, moms, and dads... especially dads) see Sam walking down the street towards us. Time stops as her slutty nurse costume selection leaves most of the adult parade crew literally open-mouthed.

I glance indirectly trying not to be rude. She looks so hot. All I can say is: Boobs. White uniform with red finishes, short skirt so tight to her butt. Curves, more curves, and meaty boobs packed inside a wonderfully ample and covered cleavage. With a delicious view of that infinite rack I realized that us men we never learn 'better suggest than show'. She knew that well.

Kessler already rubbing his hands in anticipation. His plan is developing smooth as silk: The parade is starting, the music is loud, and he switches his Tony Manero mode on. She smiles and joins the dance.

A minute in when his phone rings and cuts the mood. Sam gets to talk with Bobby meanwhile and they seem to click. She has good hand with kids.

After complaining and arguing on the phone in a way that I understand it can only be with Eileen, he tells me "Billy, you need to go and stay with Eileen. She is in emergencies with a gastrointestinal problem and she wants me there."

"She wants YOU there. What the f...?" I scold him.

"Ah, that's right... if I stay here I'll have to take care of the damn kid!" He thinks out loud. "Ok, give me your car keys."

"No way!" I say. "I know you think you'll be back soon, but who knows... Sam's things are packed there and we need to take her to the train station right on time."

"Damn you Billy! It wouldn't hurt if she stays one more day." He says, but at that moment she joins our conversation and he finishes "Ok, I'll take my scooter, I know it's best."

That old scooter was one of his plans: Number four of his tricks manual to hit on girls. He likes to take them on a ride on his motorbike, he calls it.

He explains and tells Sam he'll be back soon. And with that, riding his beloved scooter, the dapper boyfriend leaves to rescue his damsel in distress.

Sam and I stay with Booby the whole parade. We sign along, keep him entertained, and provide a nice afternoon for the young fellow. I have to admit that I almost enjoyed a festive day hadn't it been for the amount of people and crappy music.

We three walk hand in hand with the kid in between us. She looks at me and smiles. I don't understand why but days later I realized that she found it funny because we looked like a family. Yes, I'm that slow.

I look at her as all the parade men and women do too. That outfit accentuates her curves in an insane way. She knows. And nevertheless, she's a pretty lady. She knows that too.

All in all the kid spends a great time. As expected we're done and no one came back but luckily his grandparents were around and he happily stays with them for dinner.

We're running out of time and, even with no time to change her outfit, I drive Sam to the station.

Parking is really bad over there so I stop by the sidewalk, help her get her backpack from the trunk and we say farewell to each other.

"You're a sweetheart Billy. I have a little present for you."

With that she kisses my cheek. The traffic lights go green for pedestrians and, while the waiting cars honk and drivers cheer outside their windows, she jogs away and jumps in such a way that her voluptuous shapes and generous breasts wiggle and bounce unforgettably.

When she makes it to the other side after what felt like slow-mo heaven, she blows me a kiss and waves goodbye. My gobsmacked self waves back with a dumb smile.

That was it. I never saw her again. What a woman! Damn, which color were her eyes?

Looking back I can say that whatever happened to my friend, I don't have any curiosity to know. I guess our friendship was an unavoidable fall-out case. Not saying there wasn't anything good about it but there's really nothing I miss.

I've been all my life disappearing, starting again, and hiding too to be honest; so it surprised me that 15 years later his brother called me (had to call, actually) asking for a favor. He would also barely accept me just because of convenience, errands or nerdy stuff I had to have the pleasure to do for them.

Kessler's niece wanted to give his uncle a special gift for his 40th anniversary. I had to record a video wishing him well that would be assembled along many others.

The memory of how unpleasant it was to be in a friendship based just on terms of profitability made me sick.

I guess it was my turn to be a jerk and texted back turning down an invitation that never felt like one. I got nothing in response, period. Some things are over and it's the best for everybody.

Contrary to what I thought, it didn't feel good to be a jerk.