“Why shouldn’t it?”
“How would you explain how we know one another?”
“There’s always a way. I’m not worried about that. At the very worst we could tell the truth. You’d like Ron. He’s an interesting guy. He’s funny and cynical like you.”
While we ate, a girl in a frilly vaudeville dress came out and stood on the bar. The man on the piano said into a microphone, “Please put your hands together for Missy!”
We clapped.
The girl sat on the swing and began to rock to and fro, back and forth until she was so high she could kick a bell attached to the ceiling. She kept swinging until she could twist the opposite direction on the backswing and slap another bell on the opposite side of the restaurant. Malcolm and I watched and cheered, as did everyone in the place, including the waiters.
The man at the piano spoke into a microphone. “Tonight is the last performance for Missy, who is moving on to bigger and better things. Please give her a big round of applause.”
Everyone clapped, and Missy — still swinging back and forth — waved.
“As many of you know, this is our last weekend here at The Old San Francisco Steakhouse. We’ve had a great time here, acting like a bunch of big kids. I’d probably get fired any other time for saying this, but please tip your server generously tonight, and if you know of anyone who’s hiring, let them know.”
Missy performed twice more before the check came.
Malcolm insisted on paying, even though I kept saying we should split the check.
While the waiter was away with his credit card, I said, “I hope you know how much I appreciate you. You might have saved my life.”
“Oh, now you’re giving me too much credit. But I’ll take it. I like you, Sam. And I really do think you’re going to be fine. I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Me too,” I said.
In the parking lot, I assumed we’d hug and part ways, but Malcolm said, “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you to show me the arcade. It’s been ages, and you piqued my interest. Do you have time to take me there?”
“Seriously?”
“I could follow you out in my car. Ron’s not going to be home for a couple of hours.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Should we?”
“Why not?”
“Okay,” I said. “I guess.”
I drove, and Malcolm followed in a black BMW. There were only five or six other vehicles in the lot. It was early for a Saturday night.
“This is it,” I said. “It’s still pretty quiet. It’ll pick up later.”
“This looks a lot nicer than the one I used to go to,” he said.
“We can’t talk a lot inside, you know.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sam.”
We pushed through the doors. The bouncer was at the counter. I bought three dollars worth of tokens and Malcolm did the same. We walked around the store.
I whispered a few things to him, about how there was a smoking hallway and a nonsmoking hallway. The guys who were out there must have been in booths, because we didn’t see anyone in the store.
“I want to check out a movie,” Malcolm said.
“You want me to come with you?”
“What, are you kidding? Come on.”
I followed Malcolm into the nonsmoking hallway. There were a few lights lit, but he chose a booth away from the others.
He knew what to do when we got inside. He locked the door behind us then put a couple of tokens in the slot. The movie started loud, and he quickly turned it down. Then he turned around and kissed me. He was a great kisser, and my dick hardened instantly. I reached down and felt his pants. His dick was stiff too. I could tell he was wearing briefs because of the way his hard-on was bent and curled under.
We kissed for several minutes without removing our clothes. It felt so good that I wondered if I was in love with Malcolm, and if I was at the start of something as complicated and difficult as whatever I was emerging from.
“Wait here,” he said suddenly. He left the booth.
I didn’t lock it after him, and a man in a John Deere cap poked his head inside. “No thank you,” I whispered to him. “I’m already with someone else. He’ll be right back.”
When Malcolm returned he had a condom and a little bottle of lube from the front counter.
“You just bought these?”
“Yeah.”
He kissed me, and this time he pulled at my shirt, looking for the buttons. Malcolm got my shirt off, then we took his off. Then we paused to take off our shoes, and get out of our pants and underwear. A minute later we were completely naked except for his long black socks and my white gym socks. It was the first time I’d been undressed in one of the booths.
He lay back on one of the benches and I lay on top of him. I reached down and felt his dick. I held it together with mine and jerked us off while we kissed.
“Put it on,” he said, pressing the condom into my hand.
I stood up and tore open the rubber package while he put lube on his dick and ass. When I had the rubber on, he put lube on my dick, and said, “Come on.”
He lifted his legs for me, and I pressed them back with my hands. He reached down and found my cock and pushed it against his ass.
“Slow,” he said.
I didn’t move until I felt him relaxing a little at a time. A few seconds later, my dick had disappeared into him completely and I was kissing him, feeling my balls against his rear end.
“Go on,” he said.
I started to fuck him, holding his legs. I looked into his eyes and he smiled like he was containing a laugh. Then the movie stopped, and it was black in the booth. I felt him beneath me and regretted that I had delayed meeting him for so long.
I tried to take it slow, but I felt like I was going to come after just a couple of minutes.
“I’m going to come,” I whispered. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” he whispered. “Kiss me. I’m about to come too.”
Then we did, and I could feel it pulsing out of him, dripping off my stomach as we kissed. Then we both exhaled, and I rested my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the top of my head.
80
SOMEONE CAME INTO THE LOBBY WHILE I WAS ON THE PHONE taking a reservation. I didn’t pay him any attention at first. He only glanced at me before turning his back to look at some maps and fliers that were set out on a table in the lobby.
Before I was off the phone, a woman and her daughter arrived to check-in. Then a man in a suit lined up behind them. When I hung up, I started checking in the woman, and a Norwegian guest came in to ask why he might be having trouble with the wi-fi.
I helped him with the wi-fi on his phone, and I got the woman to sign her paperwork and directed her to her room.
I checked in the man in the suit. Then the phone rang while he was signing his paperwork. I put the phone call on hold and directed the man in the suit to his room.
All along, the guy who had entered earlier stood at the table. When I bothered focusing my attention on him, I recognized something familiar — the distracted air of someone pretending to look at something but actually just stalling.
“Can I help you with something?” I said.
He turned and looked at me.
It was the kid.
“No,” he said. “You can take your call.”
“You sure?” I said.
“Yeah.”
I picked up the phone, and took a reservation from a woman. Normally, I detested lengthy conversations with guests, but I spent much longer than necessary on the phone with her in hopes that another person would enter the lobby. I pretended to be ridiculously friendly and helpful so that he would hear me. I hoped I wasn’t about to be murdered or even confronted.
The call ended at last.