A Third Place at the Table

A Third Place at the Table

By Brandon B. Bonner

For adults who like loving, man to man relationships

"Why so glum, chum?"

I know that's an awful pick-up line. But I'm not feeling very creative tonight. It's 11PM on Christmas eve, and I'm sitting in a smoky gay bar in San Antonio, Texas. The dude sitting beside me is staring morosely into his mug of Lone Star on tap. He hasn't moved once since I walked in and sat down next to him a few minutes ago.

"You talkin' to me?" The dude I spoke to finally looks my way. But his glasses, tinted blue, obscure his eyes.

I grin at him. "That Christmas cheer you're drinking doesn't seem to have kicked in yet, buddy."

He offers up a weak grin. "Hi. I guess I'm havin' my mid-life crisis a few years early. I'm Tex, by the way."

"Hi. I'm David. And I'm a lonesome cowboy in a strange city on Christmas eve. What can we do to cheer each other up, Tex?" I toss him a sly smile, but he seems oblivious to it.

And he ignores my question. "What time is it?" Tex inquires.

I give him an incredulous look. There's a big Pearl Beer clock on the wall just across the bar from us. "Ah declare, Tex! You must be one of them back woods boys who ain't learned to tell time yet."

That gets a full sized grin out of Tex. "Whoa! That pseudo Texas accent of yours is awful, David! You're no lonesome cowboy. Where you from, Brooklyn?"

"We've got questions floating around all over the place, Tex. First, the time is ten minutes after eleven. Second, I'm from Oklahoma City. And third, I'm still wondering what we can do to jolly each other up."

"So that's what you gay boys in Oklahoma call it." Tex smiles. He seems to be coming out of his blue funk. "Anyway, it's Christmas eve, and I've been stood up. So I reckon I do need some jollyin' up long about now."

And for the next half hour we engage in some inconsequential chit-chat. That gives me a chance to check Tex out. He's lean and wiry without being muscular. Probably works out regularly using light weights. His prominent cheek bones lend character to his thin face. He's got a mischievous "hand in the cookie jar" appearance. And he's good looking in a playful, devilish kind of way.

His thick strawberry blond mop of hair has a mind of its own, and he tosses his head from time to time to get it out of his face. And his eyes are a mystery, shrouded by his blue tinted glasses. He has some of the mannerisms and speech patterns of a college kid. But he looks older. Maybe 26 or so."

There's a momentary lull in the conversation, and I excuse myself to go pee. "I'll be back in a flash, Tex. Gotta go shake hands with my best friend."

And then, as I step back off my barstool, I'm startled by a big dog! That's right. There's a big dog lying at Tex's feet. "Is that your dog, Tex? Don't let the bartender see him. I know things are done a little differently here in Texas, but I can't imagine dogs being allowed in bars."

"Oh that's Fritz, my german shepherd. He's okay, David. We're inseparable. He's my seeing eye dog."

And I'm stunned. How could I have possibly failed to perceive that Tex is blind? I try to cover. "Of course. What was I thinking about?"

"Hey, fess up, David. You didn't realize that I'm blind, did you?"

"No, Tex. I didn't realize."

"I'm glad. It's good to relate to someone every once in a while without his knowin' that I'm different. Even if it's just for a few minutes. Just promise me one thing, David, Don't start feelin' sorry for me. I can't deal with that. I reckon that's the reason I'm such an ornery cuss. When I'm ornery, people get so mad at me they don't feel sorry for me any more." Tex grins.

Tex's hand is resting on the bar, and I put my hand over his. "I've always said I love ornery Texas boys. You have to treat em just like you would treat wild stallions. Ride em hard, and put em away wet!"

We're back at Tex's apartment now. He asked. And I said yes. I marvel at his ability to move gracefully around his home. He's obviously memorized the location of everything. And he is poetry in motion.

Tex has fed Fritz and has made us drinks. And I didn't offer to help. I know if he wants my assistance he'll ask for it.

Now he sits beside me on the sofa. "You've got a mesmerizing voice, David. Deep and resonant. Smooth and reassuring. It's the kind of voice that makes straight guys want to follow you into battle. And gay guys follow you into bed."

"But your voice is all that I know about you. How would you describe yourself, David? What do you look like? And don't exaggerate." Tex smiles at me, and I return his smile. I don't know why, since he can't see it. It's a reflex action I suppose.

Tex somehow senses this. "And don't hesitate to return my smiles, David. When you have a smile on your face I can hear it in your voice."

"So you want my description, huh Tex? Well, I'm almost a clone of you, buddy. Six foot, 165 pounds. Lean body. When I take in a big breath I've got bulging pecs. And I've got strong, muscular legs that I attribute to good genes. One other thing. I've had a lot of compliments on my firm, bubble butt. In fact, several people have told me that my ass is the best part of me." I hear Tex muffle a laugh. "I can't quite match that thick mop of hair you have. Mine's black and thinner. But it's all still there."

"Your overall facial features convey a friendly, Tom Sawyer image, Tex. I'm afraid mine somehow convey a more sinister one. But that doesn't reflect my true nature. Deep down inside I'm a pussy cat. And they say my smile lights up the room. And oh yeah, then there's the "age" thing. Let's just say I'm still on the right side of thirty, but just barely."

There's a moment of silence. Then Tex says, "Will it bother you if I look at your face with my fingers, David?"

"Tex, you can look me over with your fingers from tip to toe if you want to. I'm all yours, buddy."

Tex positions his face within inches of mine. He starts at my neck and works upward, feeling my jaw line and my stubble. His fingers linger there. "Umm. You didn't shave this mornin' did you. Dave? I like that. It's masculine and hot." He passes by my mouth and goes on to my nose and eyes. "Ah, long curly eyelashes." Then he moves on, over my thick eyebrows, and over my forehead and into my hair. He musses it a little. "You seem like a casual guy, Dave, so I just gave you a casual, wind blown look."

Next Tex sticks his finger in his mouth and moistens it with his saliva. Then he runs his wet finger slowly along my lips. When his finger starts to dry he moistens it again and continues his movements along my lips. Then he moves his finger between my lips and runs it back and forth along my teeth. "I would ask you to let me look inside your mouth, Dave. But that might make it seem too much like I'm buying a horse. So I'll forego that." Big smile from Tex. He can't resist yanking my chain.

I can still taste Tex's saliva on my lips, where it's mixing now with my own saliva. And I find that incredibly sensual. "Hey, Tex, doesn't that make us blood brothers or something, now that we've exchanged our spit?"

Tex laughs. And it's the first time I've heard him really laugh. And I'm delighted to hear it. It makes me think we both have the same kind of crazy, adolescent sense of humor. We're a couple of randy boy-men who still get off joking around like kids. We're two men who never did quite grow up.

"You're a cool dude, Dave. I'm glad to see we both have the same kind of crude, nutsey sense of humor. For an Okie, you have a lot goin' for you." Tex smiles. "Now, let me get us a couple of frosty drinks, buddy, before we get too carried away with our mutual admiration society."

Tex is back in a few minutes, once again maneuvering through the apartment with surprising grace and agility. He sits down on the sofa, close to me, and puts his hand on the inside of my thigh.

"I didn't loose my sight until I was 21 years old, Dave. About four years ago. So I still have the sense of sight in my memory. You've probably heard it said that since blind people's sense of sight doesn't work, our other senses are more intense and perceptive than the average. Well, that's generally true. At least it is for me."

"It's my sense of touch and feel that's especially well developed. When I ran my fingers over your face, Dave, your face actually appeared in my mind. You told me you have black hair, and my fingers did the rest. As we're sittin' here now, I can actually see your face in my mind, David. And based on what you say, and the way you say it, I have a pretty good feel for whether your face is jubilant or despondent or whatever."

"I'm overwhelmed by all this, Tex. You've got such a great attitude, buddy. And you won't have to be ornery around me. I promise I'll never feel sorry for you. Hell, Tex, you have a more positive attitude than most of the sighted people I know!"

We're both quiet for a while now. Tex and I. Just sitting on the sofa as close together as we can possibly sit. Tex's hand on my thigh, and mine on his. He feels so good beside me. He feels so right.

"It feels so comfortable, sitting here close beside you, Tex. In fact, if you asked me to spend the night, I would probably say yes. And as you probably know, Tex, I have a big smirk on my face right now."

Hearing that, Tex picks up a remote from the coffee table, and suddenly the entire apartment plunges into total darkness. He must have blackout drapes on all his windows, because not even a glimmer of light is seeping through.

"Come with me to the bedroom, Dave."

"Whoa, buddy! I'm flying blind here. I can't even see my hand in front of my face."

"Take my hand, Dave. I'll be your eyes. I'll lead the way."

I feel Tex's hand on mine, and I grab it and hold on tight. As usual, Tex finds his way effortlessly. Never taking a false step.

"Okay, Dave, you're right beside the bed. Put your hand down and feel it. At-a-boy. Now take off all your clothes and lie down and relax. Sorry I don't have any pajamas to offer you. I sleep in the nude." And now it's Tex's turn to smirk. "I'll be back in a sec. Gotta go check on Fritz."

The sensations I'm feeling are so weird, Tex has, of course, reversed our worlds. I'm blind now. And, since he's so totally memorized his apartment, he's sighted. I suppose a lot of people would feel ill at ease under these circumstances. But I'm comfortable . I trust Tex in the dark. And Tex trusts me in the light.

Suddenly Tex is back and in bed with me, his naked body lying right beside mine. The guy moves with the stealth and grace of a panther. I never heard him coming. "Um, welcome back," I say. "There's nothing I'd rather have in bed with me than a naked Texan."

Tex takes me into his arms, and we embrace. He presses his lean, wiry body against mine as we kiss. Gently and tenderly at first, and then with passion.

When we come up for air I exclaim, "That was the most sensual embrace I've ever experienced, buddy! I'm seeing sky rockets and roman candles!"

And Tex answers me with a big grin in his voice, "I'm seein' em too, David! I'm seein' em too!"

And then we make love.

"How do hush puppies and salsa sound for Christmas breakfast?" Tex has turned on the bedroom lights, and I can see again.

I open one eye and squint at Tex. "As long as you're serving breakfast in bed, it sounds great!"

When Tex returns with his gourmet delight I say, "You know, Tex, I don't believe I've ever been served by a naked waiter before. Are you taking orders yet for lunch?"

"You betcha, Dave. My house specialty is cu-cum-berger. I won't tell you what it is. I'll just leave that to your imagination."

"My imagination tells me it's got a whole bunch of vitamins, and that it's just loaded with protein. Anyway, whatever it is, Tex, if you make it I'll eat it."

"Promises, promises," Tex smirks.

After breakfast, we enjoy a lazy Christmas morning, frolicking in bed together like a couple of frisky pups. Later we sit by a window, and Tex draws open the blackout drape so he can show me his view of a little park across the street. And we are stunned by what we see.

"My God, Tex! It's a winter wonderland. Fluffy white snowflakes are everywhere, and they're being tossed around by a blustery north wind. They're all surging and swirling, buddy. It's an awesome display of winter's fury and beauty. It's almost a total white-out, Tex! A good day to be inside by a roaring fire."

Tex is more subdued and sentimental than I had expected. "It's my first "White Christmas", Dave. And I'm glad you're here to describe it to me and to share it with me." He's silent for a couple of minutes, then he says, "I'm gonna hate to see you go back to Oklahoma, Dave. I think I could have made a damn good Texan out of you."

I come back at Tex with my very best pseudo Texas accent. "Well I'm mighty glad to hear ya say that pardner. Cause I ain't goin' back to Oklahoma. My company has transferred me to San Antone. You don't happen to know anybody whose lookin' fer a good roommate, do ya Tex?"

Tex is ecstatic. "Why you devious old Okie. You've been holdin' out on me!" Then Tex comes over to where I'm sitting and plants a big wet kiss on my lips. "I guess I'd better tell Fritz there's gonna be a third place at the table from now on."

We've just finished dinner. The snow storm is still raging outside, and Tex has a cozy fire flickering in the fireplace. I'm sitting at the end of the sofa, and Tex is stretched out on it with his head in my lap. We're both naked as jay birds. And I believe I know where this is going before long.

I look down and give Tex one of my "light up the room" smiles. And Tex sees it in my voice. "I think we're going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on, Tex."

"I know we are, Dave," Tex replies. "Cause I only have eyes for you!" Then, in a rich, clear baritone, Tex sings the first few lines of that Golden Oldie.

And now we're both laughing. It looks like we'll never outgrow our crazy, adolescent humor. And that's exactly the way we want it. We'll always be a couple of randy boy-men who never did quite grow up.

Then Tex reaches for the remote on the coffee table. And the entire apartment plunges into darkness . . . . . .

The End