With the engine warming up, I took a small hand towel from the glove box and dried off my bald head. Once settled, I pulled my car out onto Baker Street and drove west along the levee, following its contour.

On top of the levee, I drove to the breach and sat enraged for the remainder of the night, periodically turning on my headlights to watch millions of gallons of water pouring through the wrong side. Several times I felt for my gun. Continue reading →

Geek-boy nodded toward the windshield. “I’d say it’s out of the question.”

“Let me out at the next corner.” Although I didn’t want to, my voice had telltale nervousness to it.

He pointed out the window of our bobbing Volkswagen. “There is no next corner. It’s only water.”

“Just let me out.”

He shrugged. “Where would you like to be let out?”

“Right here. I can’t be in this car any longer.”

I wanted to get out for the entire time the two of us had been bumping along from housetop to telephone pole. What had it been ten hours? I wanted to remove myself from the floating coffin in the first ten minutes. Continue reading →

I felt different after the romping with the Greek God. Something inside shifted. I had, in one fell swoop, in a single night, maybe in a nanosecond, fallen head over heels in love with the centaur and at that point I still didn’t know his name.

It took the rest of the week and another sixteen assignments before I put my finger on it. I talked to no one except Sylvia about what happened and even her I didn’t tell about the love part. I was embarrassed to be longing after a man because I had for so long been Yamelda, the-ice-queen, Keating, mixer in only the highest circles, talker to only the shakers and movers. I’d been sought after from Saint Louis to San Francisco, but in my eyes they’d all been wimps. I was a virgin to love and the Greek God was my first.

Oh, I had it big time and it all started with the wild morning after the flood when I gave him that black eye and cracked one of his ribs. Continue reading →

I, Billy F. Marlin, babe-magnet, God’s-gift-to-women, best lay this side of Colorado, stepped into the house and wanted to say the words, “Honey I’m home.” Why am I nervous? She’s just another babe with hooters, but for some reason I’d have given half of my night’s haul to yell those words and have her come running.

I was no movie star or even partially famous. . . well, okay maybe in Clancy’s I had a little fame, but in reality I’m just some guy, able to bench press 280 and think on my feet. Continue reading →

After climbing from the roof of the bug in through the window with my work dress embarrassingly hiked up to my waist, and worst of all being grabbed in the ass by that geek who seemed to show up every time I did a shift, I sat sullenly against the door. I knew the guy had some kind of googly-eyed schoolboy crush. After the last experience with the jerk in the restored fifty-seven Chevy, I was having nothing to do with guys.

“I mean he’s cute enough, in a scarecrow sort of way,” I said to Sandy, my co-worker last week when it was slow. “I’m just not that interested in men.”

“Get that jack-off Chevy guy out of your mind,” Sandy said. “Not all guys are like him. Some are really okay.” Continue reading →