Full of nervous expectation, I couldn’t just sit there waiting expectantly in my beat-up VW for my dream stud’s appearance. Got out of the car, paced around a bit and finally hoisted myself up onto the loading dock and sat my ass right there at the edge, feet crossed at the ankles and dangling legs swinging to and fro. I’d taken a relaxing, leisurely shower earlier and had changed into a sleeveless pastel T-shirt and a pair of loose homeboy jean-shorts that went down just below the knees. At work I usually wear my black engineer, steel-toed boots but for tonight’s excursion I was donning my clean, white high tops.When my watch read a couple minutes after eleven I started getting even more nervous; when it got to be ten after, I was in near-panic. The thought had occurred to me earlier that Mark might be blowing smoke up my ass—or he might have a last-minute change of heart. Disappointment overcame my earlier ecstatic mood as the minutes ticked by. Soon it was twenty after the hour; I decided I’d give him until half past and then I was reluctantly calling it a night. Didn’t know how I’d handle it with him tomorrow; how could I tell him I’d been waiting
