RAISING CROW

Chapter 13: Mid-February, 1994.

I always hated Februarys in Amarillo. The Yellow City became The Brown City when everything green died and turned brown. Everyone's tired of the wind and the long shadows, days of clouds and horrible freezing rain. Everyone seemed to be mad about something, and even the sunshine felt harsh. Winter always seems to overstay its welcome.

Our roads are crumbling, produce in the stores lacks flavor because it comes from Yuma Arizona in winter where it's grown in sand instead of black dirt, and sometimes the cold wind hurts to breathe. Mom says I get moody all winter. I told her we should get a tanning bed so we get enough sunshine, but of course she always has a reason why my ideas are stupid. I bet if her friend Maggie suggested it Mom would think it's a wonderful idea. I told her we could put it in the third bedroom.

Despite the weather I managed to have another friendly conversation with Bethany about senior prom. We decided what to wear, and where we might go after prom. There were several party options but all of them were by invitation and charged a keg fee.

Beth and I talked at school, she says she's wearing a very lite pink full-length low cut dress with shoulder straps and a blue carnation. She showed me a photograph of someone wearing that dress four years ago.

I'm wearing a plain black two piece suit, white shirt, narrow black tie, black leather shoes, and a red carnation. So she will be naked just above her nipples and I will only be exposing my face. She told me once she has the biggest breasts in the senior class, that's why she's wearing such a low cut dress to prom. If you got em, flaunt em!

Speaking of breasts.... long ago I wondered what she looked like naked. I've seen her in wet t-shirts and bikinis since we were in grade school. Her nips are flat like a bumper sticker, like mine but maybe a little wider. Once in 7th grade when we went to the water park she wasn't dressed for water but she got totally drenched and I could not stop staring at her chest because I could see everything but the color through her shirt, like I said they were flat, like two nipple decals applied on her breasts. In other words her tits probably look plain and boring, unless you're a guy who likes big boobs. I am not a fan of D-cup breasts, my fav is A or B cup size. Her belly button is just a small round hole, like as wide as a pencil.

In 8th grade I never would have thought it was possible for a girl to lose popularity by having large breasts but Beth certainly did, it was almost funny how much teasing she received. I could go on...

I asked Mom if I could rent a suit and she said we'll go to Goodwill and buy one and then drop it off in the donation box. She said, "Prom is a kiddie show, it doesn't matter, it's like grandparents day in 3rd grade! Six months after prom you won't even remember what happened. Before prom it seems like a big deal but believe me, afterward you'll look back on it as silly and forgettable." She also told me that Beth was wearing a four year old bridesmaid's dress she borrowed from a relative.

This year they moved the AHS prom a little earlier in the year, into early March, about three weeks from today, early in the 2nd semester. Like every year it will be held in the school gym. Daniel told me he invited Carlos but the school refused to allow two males to register as dates, but two guys could go alone and sit together. Carlos is not a senior but somehow they pressured the school into letting him buy a ticket, despite the rule that prom is for seniors only. It sounds like ticket sales are down this year so they needed his money and let him go anyway.

Daniel also told me about something he saw on a local BBS that there was an alternative prom coming up soon at a hotel in Amarillo for any high school student (and home schooled) in the Panhandle. As long as you were a high school senior you could purchase a ticket, but they weren't cheap. Daniel didn't know any details but there was only one store in Amarillo selling tickets, or you had to drive 60 miles south to Texas A&M to the PFLAG office, which was next to the campus book store. I told Dan I was going to investigate. He gave me the phone number for a dial-up BBS in town with all the information.

Dan also said the panhandle of Texas had like 38 counties and a couple of those had multiple high schools, like Amarillo. He estimated 44 high schools. Many of them are small rural schools with a senior class around 240 seniors, if 5% of them were LGB that means a possible population of 600 LGB students in the Texas panhandle region. He said they'll probably allow students from the Oklahoma Panhandle too.

From what Dan said anyone could go if they were the correct age (17-19) and they walked up to the window at the PFLAG office with ($99) cash. They needed to sell 200 tickets to cover expenses, like food, a DJ, a small band, and rental of the hotel facility. Dan said if you were a Martian with green flesh and the correct amount of money they'd sell you a ticket. But on their official rules page they had this long list of qualifications.

They calculated a paid attendance of 200 people to break even. That number is a little less than the number of seniors at AHS. If Tom and I went it would be my first public appearance in my life as a gay person, I might even get to dance with Tom. Dan said the alternate prom will have max seating for 300 bodies. And it will have professional security and chaperones.

He said the meal is cheap crap: chicken strips, a tossed salad, corn chips, a sliced fruit cup, and a chocolate cupcake for desert. I told him it sounded like sim-food to me, if we went we'd eat at home then drive over late while the band was warming up.

Finals for the winter semester are next week, Tuesday through Friday. We're getting report cards the following week on Monday (they must be signed and returned by Thursday). I found it hard to believe in the era of computerized testing and grading that it took so long to print report cards (simple sheets of green-bar tractor feed paper).

I sent my usual emails advising friends that I was in seclusion until finals were over. I wanted to maintain my grades and stay on good terms with my mother, I think there was a car in jeopardy if I let my grades sink. Mom would assume I was paying more attention to Tom than homework.

My days were spent reviewing my notes for all my classes, except gym. I think the coach hated me because no matter what I did I could never get an A- in gym, I usually earned a C+. Sure I was thin, pale, with skinny arms like a child, and almost no chest muscles. But I was always on time, always in uniform, always willing to try. I think coach suspected my sexuality was the cause of my lack of sports ability. 'Well fuck them,' I thought. Mom was on my side, that's what matters the most. We've already mailed my college application and check to A&M-Galveston so I was just watching the calendar go by counting down the days to graduation. Mom suggested they may notice my name and simply stamp my application 'approved.' She said when she mailed-in my application she wrote her name and address on the outside of the envelope.

When it arrives in the Admissions office they'd call my grandmother.

The call would go something like this: "Hello?"

"Hi Leslie, this is Joan in Admissions. Say, we received an application from a Robert Davis in Amarillo, do you know him?"

"Yes, he's my grandson."

The admissions lady would think to herself: Robert is the `Heir Apparent' and possible future mega-donor to the university, so she immediately stamped it approved and never even looked at my school transcript.

Technically I already took and passed the Texas GED test so my participation in the rest of high school was voluntary. But if I took my GED Diploma out of my locker and left campus early that leaves me spending all my days cleaning up dog shit at the vet's office.... So I'll tolerate boring classes with immature classmates until June. What else do I got to do? And I can keep an eye on my brother Daniel too.

At first Mom considered mailing my grades to my Grandmother and have her hand-carry it to the admissions office, but we decided not to play that wild-card yet. Mom doubted my gym grade would be a factor and if it did she'd drive to AHS and discuss it with them privately (very calmly voiced threats of legal action). My mother is a very influential person in Amarillo; nobody fucks with her more than once. Despite her lead foot she also never earned a speeding ticket.

If Mom drove to school she'd meet with the principal and the (new) coach. The principal would apologize and tell Mom my gym grade was a typing error and he'd personally amend it to at least an A- and print out a new report card. She's pulled stunts at school like that before. In the PE department everyone knows Dan and I destroyed the previous coach, so they are super cautious around us now. The school in general is barely starting to discover that Daniel is deaf and he has special rights, but nobody knows what they are, so they all avoid contact with him. In March of his senior year they are starting to learn about the existence of handicap students. He may be the first boy to wear eye makeup to school but he is far from the first handicapped student.

Mom told me back in the 1950s there was an anti-nausea medicine given to pregnant woman, it caused terrible physical deformities in some infants, eventually those kids grew up and went to high school while missing fingers and toes.

If you were born right handed in 1959 and wanted to take art class in 2nd grade but your right hand only had one finger, should your artwork be graded the same as the rest of the class? Back then it probably was.

My rant: our football coach (my gym teacher) sort of serves as a great example of why some people hate gays. They believe we're gay because we're all evil perverts and unwilling to surrender to a life of quiet moral heterosexuality, raising kids, and coming home every Friday with my paycheck. I can promise you I have been sexually interested in boys only since I was about 6 years old. Back then I had no idea there was such thing as sex, or orgasms, or where babies came from, or any of that crap. All I knew was I was excited by the sight of boy's bodies and could not stop staring and thinking about them. It's always been there, I was born this way, and I did not choose to think gay thoughts. I had the interest long before I knew what sex was or ever saw porn.

I'm not into pervy things like dominance, piss, or feet, I'm into dick. And I'm into kissing, hugging, massage, and nips. In fact, if I was 100% honest I'd say I prefer masturbation over anal sex because it's more controllable, and the body positions are more favorable to greater pleasure and passion then during butt sex. But our male bodies are designed for fucking, as in my dick inside something and humping until I orgasm. But as far as intensity goes, if it's done right the most powerful orgasms for me always happen during masturbation where precise control can be achieved by any caring friend

Promiscuity? Not in my case. In fact, I know lots of gays and none of them are truly promiscuous. Some are exhibitionists, but none are truly easy. Even my friend Daniel who likes to tease men with his body has probably never had butt sex in his life and won't until he finds the right man and gets married. He'll let strangers touch his rod but that's his limit.

Mom and I are not into religion but we go to church once a year on Easter Sunday, and that's it. I do believe there is a God and he put me on Earth as a gay person because he does not see sex as a sin, because heteros can do butt sex too, and many do. After she had a litter or two of pups her vagina stretches and isn't as nice for sex as it was when they got married, but her rump certainly is nice and tight.

On Wednesday of finals week I got an upset email from Tom. He said he only worked one shift during finals and there was some geezer dude who kept staring at him and grabbed his crotch when he walked up to take his order. Tom said he about screamed when it happened but he stayed quiet and just pushed the guy's hand off his groin, which involuntarily started to get hard. Tom turned to hide his reaction and quickly walked off to get the order to the cook then went to the staff bathroom to wash his face and stall for a minute or two to lose his erection. He pee'd, washed his hands and returned to work with this guy eagle-eyeing him.

When geezer's food was ready and Tom delivered it to the table the guy grabbed his wrist after he set down his plate and pulled him but stopped short of anything else. Tom said he smiled and yanked his hand from the guy's grip and walked away mad as hell. When it came time for him to pay, Tom said the guy reached over and rubbed his pants over the zipper a few times while he asked about carry-out service. Tom stood still and let the geezer grope him, then left. After the guy left he found a $50 bill as a tip! Never saw the guy before or after. Tom said he thought he was a transient from I-40 who wandered into town. The street the diner sat on (Osage Street) crossed the highway and their name was on a large sign on westbound I-40 since they were open 6am to 10pm seven days a week. As a joke Tom told me he was probably on his way to Disneyland!

Back to the subject of prom... I had to ask Daniel to scope out the alternative prom info site, the BBS it was on says their page is now on AOL, so he is having someone he knows print the AOL page for me. Dan said he can't go, but he'll get me the info.

After finals were over we discussed grades and plans. Tom said he was invited to a private gay party about two blocks away at a girl's house in his neighborhood but he had the chance to work and make some overtime money.

"What would you be doing?" I asked.

"Back kitchen." Translated into English it meant he'd be working as a busboy.

"Want me to come over and help? I got time." I offered.

"Let me ask Management." He answered.

About an hour later I got an email: yes I was able to come help but we had to be professional. I agreed to the rules, like no grab-assing or horsing around. He said we could walk to the party after work.

Saturday morning I was in the kitchen talking to Mom with her puffy red eyes, messed-up hair, pale, sweaty. I kept my distance and told her I volunteered to help Tom maintain the `back of house' at Star's tonight since he volunteered to cover part of the shift for time and a half. I was going for the fun, not money. I never told Mom about the party that evening. After his partial shift I was going to spend the night there.

She laughed at the idea of going to a commercial business and working for free, but that's because she was never married and never really knew love.

I took a nap with Crow, and then got up at 3pm. I let him out to do his personal stuff, then I made sure he had plenty of food and water and headed for the driveway just in time to see Maria's car approaching. I walked to the curb and climbed into the front seat of his mom's Chevy Impala. We made our way to the diner and parked around the side towards the back. He said his mother was there too, so we had to be strictly by the rules or she'd blow a head gasket.

We walked around back, the cement surface outside the back kitchen door was slick with an old layer of kitchen grease, we walked carefully in the back door which was wide open, but they had a screen door to keep bugs out.

In the back kitchen was an older dude I never met before, he looked Mexican. He waved as we entered, Tom never introduced us. Over by the dishwasher were the triple sinks which were piled high with big ugly pots and pans. The counter near the dishwasher was packed full of tubs of dirty plates and glasses, one was on the floor because there was no more room on the counter. We walked into a tiny locker room and he told me to strip down to jeans and a t-shirt and handed me a long rubber apron and a hair net. He offered to let me wear rubber boots but I declined. We looked at his shoes and mine and saw both of us had on worn-out old gym shoes. Working in a restaurant kitchen was a great place to destroy your shoes.

Tom got dressed the same as me and at exactly 4pm we left the locker room and he reviewed the dish washing routine. He reminded me it was important that it was done correctly, their health department permit and the safety of their customers relied upon dishwashing done by the book.

That was the first time I ever heard Tom evangelize about anything, it was nice to hear.

His tour started with the large U-shaped stainless steel counter, the place tubs of dirty dishes arrived. Then Tom showed me the basic process and how the large stainless steel dish cleaning machine worked.

The large commercial dishwasher cycled automatically, and fed itself detergent so all you did was slide in a tray of dishes and pull the doors down with a long handle, then press the button and eight minutes later it shut off and released the lock on the doors. He showed me the detergent and water treatment tanks were full so we would not need to touch them tonight.

Under the countertop was a large bright yellow rubber trash can we had to wipe everything off the dishes into the can for safe disposal. Tom said all dishes, cups, glasses, bowls, and saucers must be emptied into the food trash can, but drinks and ice can go down the drain. If you drop a fork into the trash can you gotta pull it out.

Next, we reviewed the sprayer. They had a large high pressure hot water spray hose that hung down over a basin with a large drain underneath and a screen in the bottom to catch silverware. He grabbed a used plate out of a tub and knocked the food and napkins off, they went down a five-inch hole into the rubber trash can which sat under the stainless steel counter area. He sprayed it off and positioned it in one of the 2ft x 2ft plastic dish carriers which slid on rails. After the tray was loaded he blasted it with the sprayer again then explained how to check them before they went into the machine. They had to face a certain direction going into the machine.

Tom showed me a special tray for silverware and utensils, they sat in a single layer across the bottom after a good hot rinse, and then they went in the machine the same as the plates and bowls.

He showed me the round dinner plates were all the same, then they had large oval platters too. Some platters had a navy blue line around the edge for the specials. They had smaller plates for things like toast and bagels. There were two sizes of bowls and three sizes of glasses. The coffee cups were ceramic mugs but some were owned by customers, but were washed by us.

At the far end of the dishwasher was the area where all the clean dishes were stacked on shelves by type. "Dishes were nearly 198 degrees when they came out of the machine, so be careful how you grabbed `em. They came out steaming hot so they dried quickly." He warned me. Silverware went into bins, glasses went into special plastic trays, and large pots and pans were hung up in the prep-kitchen.

Tom also stressed that "...any specs of food left on dishes, glasses, or silverware means that item had to go through the system again, there can be no signs of anything left on any plate after washing, or reject it. One tiny spec and it gets rejected."

He explained how it can get baked on and we needed to use a scouring pad to remove any food debris then run it through the dishwasher again. No exceptions!

Next, we walked through the swinging doors into the dining area and showed me the dirty dish cart had three plastic tubs which looked full, and down by the cook area on shelves above him were where the clean plates, platters, and bowls went after they were dry. He introduced me to the cook who smiled but didn't offer to shake hands. It looked like we needed to get started soon since most of their dishes were dirty and all the clean stacks were very low, so we got right to it. He said he wanted me to watch him first. We were going to start with plates and platters, then drink glasses and silverware.

We waited for the waitress to speed through the swinging doors (she always had the right-of-way) then we followed her into the back kitchen.

Tom positioned me behind him and told me to watch his routine. And suddenly he became a different (more serious) person. He pulled out a paper cap and fit it on his head, he lifted a rubber apron off a hook on the wall and hung it on his front side, then pulled on a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves, and stepped belly up to the stainless steel counter. He positioned an empty dish carrier (in front) of him (directly under the spray nozzle) and grabbed dirty plates covered with stuck-on fries, catsup, lettuce, and smears of mustard and bounced them over the hole for the trash to fall off then set them in rows and filled the entire rack full of plates and a few small water glasses. He sprayed it with the overhead nozzle then shoved it aside and grabbed another empty carrier and grabbed only platters and several more glasses and quickly filled a second rack. He slid them close to the dishwasher and quickly filled a third one, but this one was a different color rack, it was filled with silverware and he sprayed it over and over and used his hand to carefully stir everything around.

I saw how he grabbed dirty plates with his left hand and banged them over the trash can hole. The hole in the counter had a rubber ring so plates didn't get chipped on the edges. Then he handed the plate to his right hand and set them in a carrier, so he worked independently with both arms. His left hand pulled items from the tubs, wiped off stuff like napkins or fries, and then he took it with his right hand and stacked it in the dish carrier. Once the rack was loaded his right hand worked the sprayer until everything looked clean, and at the same time his left hand was still grabbing only one type of item from the dirty dish tubs. While one hand was spraying a carrier the other hand was pulling out only one type of plate or glass from the tubs and banging them and stacking them, ready to load on a carrier. It was impressive to watch him work so fast.

He stopped and made sure I was paying attention to how he worked. I told him he was pretty good at that. Tom smiled and said it was like being a drummer, but he gets no respect for being good at washing dishes, other than they get no complaints from customers about dirty silverware or glasses.

He turned the dial on the Hobart dishwasher to the dinner dish setting and slid the first green tray inside, grabbed the steel handlebar and pulled it down, which lowered and latched both doors shut. Then he pointed at the tanks of detergent and anti-spot solution then pressed the RUN button and the machine came to life. He said we needed to keep an ear and eye on it in case something went wrong. He said the way it looked and sounded right then was perfect. So he went out to the dining area and got the cart and rolled it in back and removed the three large tubs and set them on the dirty dish area and got three clean tubs from the dry/clean end and replaced them and put the cart back in the dining area, beside the swinging doors.

He went back to the rinse area and loaded two more racks of dishes, platters, and one entirely full of large glasses. I stood behind him watching him work amazingly fast. After the entire dirty side was full of racks ready to go he said we'd be working on the large pots and pans in the sinks next. We also carried three dirty dish tubs to the sinks to hand wash. I sarcastically said, "Heaven forbid we get the dirty dishes dirty!" but Tom said we cannot take dirty stuff out of the kitchen into the dining area. That made sense the way he said it, but I liked my sarcasm too.

He showed me the process in the sinks, dirty to clean, also clockwise. One sink was loaded with big pots, so he handed me elbow gloves and a paper cap and he had me start with the big plastic tubs in the middle sink. Hot water, soap, brushes, and I had all of them spotless and rinsed in scalding hot water, then they got stacked on the clean side to dry.

"You guys must have a huge water heater." I commented while both of us were working on pots and pans.

Tom said what they had was a hot water booster that ran on electricity and pushed the temperature of the water even higher for just this part of the diner. He told me it was the tank thing mounted to the wall near the dishwasher. He said it used more electricity than all the lights outside the building. He said it was 480 volts and drew like ten amps when it ran. He said hot water went in at 135 degrees and came out at up to 170 degrees. There was a heating element inside the dish washer that brought it up to nearly 200 degrees very quickly.

Soon, the dishwasher stopped and the doors opened about two inches, so he gestured for me to wash my gloves with soap and hot water and follow him. He lifted the handle which raised both doors and let out a huge cloud of steam that rose to the ceiling and made the back kitchen look cloudy! At the clean side he reached in and pulled out the first rack as far as it would go to let them steam dry.

Then back to the dirty side he slid the next tray in the machine, set the cycle knob for platters and pulled the handle down and pressed the start button. We moved back to the sinks and using Brillo pads we started scrubbing huge pots and pans. It took us over half an hour to get the bulk of the large items in the sink cleaned and hung up in the prep kitchen, on a rack above the very large butcher-block work table. During that time he left about every six minutes to pull out a clean rack and slide in a new dirty carrier. So he was doing two jobs at once. Tom told me in the old days they did all the dishes, pots, and tubs in the sinks out front behind the counter!

Before too long we had most of the pots cleaned and set on the drying area, once they looked dry he carried them over to the prep kitchen. There was a large steel pot rack above the large butcher block counter where he hung the clean pots. Clean tubs went in a stack under the counter where the clean dishes were stacked. They had lots of health department rules about safe handling of clean and dirty stuff.

Then he said he was going to bus a few tables, so I did dirty dishes and loaded three carriers full of plates, and glasses. While he was gone I washed my gloves and started stacking clean plates and filled glass holders and got them ready for him to carry out to the drink stations out front.

While he was gone I ran the dishwasher and stacked plates. When it came time to handle dirty dishes I thought it was kind of gross, seeing all that food fall down into the trash can. It kind of surprised me how much food went in the trash. Most of the trashed food I saw looked to be side dishes, like fries, cole slaw, sliced fruit, and hash browns. One thing I never saw hit the trash was bacon or steak!

By the time he did that I had more racks washed and more clean plates stacked up. Tom walked in the kitchen with a huge smile and loudly proclaimed, "This is really neat to come in here and see everything I needed to do is already done! You want something to drink?"

"Yah, you got Sprite?"

"Comin right up!"

He returned one minute later with a coffee mug packed full of fries standing upright and two glasses of Sprite. We sat in the locker room on the bench and drank our sodas and ate the fries. I was having fantastic time, and to be completely honest, I never once had a thought about him sexually. Today he was Tom Riley my friend.

After our short break we attacked the remaining six tubs of dirty dishes and he carried even more plates out to the cook and filled both drink stations with racks of clean glasses, then he carried out four huge stainless steel buckets of ice cubes and dumped them into the bins at the drink stations.

I started on the last batch of dirty plate tubs and got them rinsed and ready to load in the machine. The Wash Disher never got a break, as soon as it finished a load one of us loaded the next rack.

I finally saw a clock in the back kitchen and was surprised to see the past three hours just flew by and we were almost caught up. So he went out and loaded all the stations for coffee mugs, glasses, tall glasses, and saucers. When he was walking behind the counter I noticed several of the customers seated at the bar eating dinner closely watched him walk by, but Tom seemed oblivious to his audience. The way he wore his apron it made his butt look like it stuck out kinda far. As he approached the swinging doors I reached my hand out and pointed at two tables with dirty dishes, and he walked over and gathered them one table at a time.

They tried to clean tables by hand instead of like they used to do, by rolling the cart down the aisle behind the counter stools. So now they stack plates and put glasses on top and carry them to the cart by the door. After that he wiped the tables and arranged the napkin holders, salt, pepper, and jam holders. None of the eating locations get silverware until someone has ordered.

This diner served coffee in large ceramic mugs, without saucers. They set a napkin on the counter for people to use instead of another saucer. He said it reduced dishes to wash and coffee wipes up easily. I saw that was why so many dirty dishes had a coffee stained napkin stuck in the catsup.

While I stood at the door looking through the window I heard a friendly/familiar voice behind me say hello and she thanked me for helping. When I turned around it was Maria, in business clothes. She had been there in the tiny office doing payroll the entire time. She walked around the place handing out paychecks then disappeared into her closet size office to do ordering. She walked around the entire place counting stuff and marking a form on a clipboard. She also stopped to chat with customers and fixed anything she saw as she moved around. She also checked the bathrooms and went out the front door to look at the parking lot for trash or anything out of place.

Tom came back with the cart full of three tubs of dishes and now all the booths were clean. The cook and waitress kept the counter spotless and ready for another customer but the busboy generally did booths and tables. If they had a line of people waiting for any seat then everyone bussed tables, except the cooks.

While he rolled the cart into the back kitchen I did the dishes, so he grabbed a big bucket on wheels and filled it with detergent water and disinfectant and mopped the bathrooms. Tom was gone for 20 minutes doing that. By the time he came back I was almost caught up to him again, so I stacked dishes and put the empty racks away under the counter.

Tom told me the bathrooms were built just like the kitchen so they were waterproof from ceiling to floor, which made them super easy to clean down the big drain in the floor. He said the night shift cleaners steam clean the bathrooms too, but it only takes them about 30 seconds per bathroom! They did everything except the paper towel holders.

I tried to step in anytime I could to speed things along. While he went out to bus tables I rinsed another rack of plates or platters and put them in the line ready to slide inside the `Wash Disher.' When the cycle was over I opened the doors and watched the steam clouds billow out and reached in to pull the steaming hot racks out to dry and cool. Once they were safe to touch they got stacked and I even carried racks of glasses in two sizes out by the drink machine for the waitress.

They had several sizes of glasses. Some were tall and blue for people drinking water. They had small glasses for people drinking orange or tomato juice. And they had two sizes of clear glass for big and small drinks, 10 and 16 ounce. The juice glasses were five ounces. Water-only glasses were 16 ounce blue tinted plastic.

Out in the dining area by the kitchen door stood a three-level metal cart which holds three dirty dish tubs. But under the counter near the cook are more tubs for dirty dishes. So when Tom brings the cart back out with clean tubs a few minutes later he can go back out to find all three tubs are full again because of the ones behind the counter.

He does not go behind the counter except to deliver clean plates because there isn't much floor space behind the counter. And he only does that when the cook says it's okay. Tom said he grabs a stack of plates then walks part way down the walkway and waits for the cook to see him and gesture for him to deliver. The cook steps back and Tom delivers the hot clean plates on the steel shelf above the griddle and stove.

Before I even noticed it was dark outside and the dinner rush was nearly over. He showed me the cycle counter on the machine, we washed 14 racks since 4pm! I looked out the window, the clock said it was 7:51pm and the place was half empty. All the customers were at the counter now and the waitress looked tired, I think she walked a couple miles already. They closed in two more hours, but I felt great. Tom looked super happy like he was trying to lessen his smile.

As they get past the dinner rush they hang a rope along the booths to keep new customers from sitting anywhere but the counter. They set the table chairs upside down on top of the tables during times of counter service only.

Next, he dumped the rolling bucket and re-filled it with clean soapy water and put a clean mop head on the handle and did the far end of the diner, under the booth tables, around the stools, down the walkway from the bathroom doors to the front door and out to the outside doors. Then he used a heavy dish rag and wiped down all the booth benches and the hardwood booth dividers. He had the entire far end completely done, he even took up the rubber floor mats and hung them on hooks outside on the cement block wall. They were black rubber when he hung them up but told me the night crew blasted them with a steam hose then they were bright red again!

Next he carried more dishes out and when he came back he said all the dish and glasses holders in the dining room were full. So everything else we did stayed in back. Tom told me they have enough eating ware to run the restaurant nearly a full day without running the Wash Disher. He said sometimes it breaks down and they have to wait for the Hobart dude.

On one cycle I tried to start it with a carrier full of glasses I had to flag down Tom to help, I showed him when I pressed START the machine wouldn't run. He grabbed the long steel handle, raised it up them pushed it down a little harder then I heard it click as the doors latched shut, then the START button worked!

He said when this cycle was done we need to check the edges of the door seals to see if there is a piece of food stuck on the door seal. He said chunks of bell pepper and baby carrot usually caused that problem.

At 9:45pm they all started closing down the diner. Tom started taking apart all the other rubber mats and took them outside and hung them on a wall out back. The chef had already shut off the deep fryer and Tom took a stainless steel bucket out and drained the fryer oil and carefully carried it outside and poured it into their waste oil tank which he said held 250 gallons of mixed oils and grease.

After that he used heavy hand towels to wipe down the entire inside of the deep fryer, even the heating elements (it was electric). The chef cleaned the griddle and there was nothing to do to the stove top and inside the oven was clean. So next they started taking apart the steam table and brought back the steam table pans and lids and suddenly the sink was full of large dirty pans again so we both put on long heavy rubber gloves and aprons and did all the pans and lids. While that was going on the chef wiped down the inside and top of the steam table and then Tom mopped the other half of the dining room. The waitress wiped down the stools and someone started shutting off the lights, the outside signs were already off and the doors were locked. Someone dropped coins into the jukebox and we all bounced and swayed to the music while everyone found things to wipe down in the dining room. All the tables, counters, and door knobs were wiped down with bleach and at 10:37pm the lights went out and employees started to leave out the back kitchen door. While Tom did his stuff I used a bleach sprayed towel and hand cleaned all the salt and pepper shakers, which was a much bigger job than I thought it would be!

Two Mexican looking guys walked in and were welcomed loudly, Tom said they steam cleaned overnight, they used a high pressure steamer and did the equipment, cabinets, floors, racks, stoves, bathrooms, and the rubber floor mats Tom hung on hooks in the block walls, everything got sanitized and degreased. They left when the breakfast cook arrived at 5am to turn on the cooking gear and start the next day! That gave them six hours to steam clean everything but the ceiling. They brought a portable steam generator, powered by propane, it was on a trailer they towed behind a truck they parked near the back kitchen door and ran heavy steam hoses inside and blasted everything toward the back door. Last, they did the rubber mats. The interlocking rubber mat squares are red, but by the end of the day when they're taken up they're all black. I asked how often they came here and he said once a week, usually on the weekend.

"I want you to know that if you weren't here helping I'd have at least another hour of work before I could leave!" He smiled broadly because he was so happy.

At 10:30 everyone punched their time cards in the clock in the locker room and left. We met by Maria's car and drove to their house.

Tom started the car and we sat there for a while, he turned on the radio. I realized my hair felt like it was sprayed with oil and my face felt like it had a coating of wax on my forehead and nose. He told me lots of young people got zits working in restaurant kitchens because of the oil in the air.

We sat there briefly with the motor running and the radio playing softly (KPAN-AM), we both listened to the same stations.

Tom reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it, "I want you to know this was the best shift I ever had, you being there really motivated me to work faster and harder and I felt safer with you behind me..." He paused and with his eyes still staring into mine he said, "...I'm seriously thinking about what your grandparents said and requested an application form for student loans and admission to UT Galveston as a culinary business major, like your Grandpa showed me. I think we should be roomies and do it together." He had a huge smile on his face and squeezed my hand even harder.

I leaned into him and was about ready to kiss him when the back door opened and Maria took a seat in back and we drove to their house.

On the trip home Maria had us stop at Circle-K and she got a 12 pack of regular Coors beer in bottles.

When she got out of the car I asked Tom if he got any of the tips and he said sometimes but usually not. Those were for the wait staff but sometimes they share because if the tables are full of dirty dishes then they get no new customers and no tips.

As we drove into their driveway (1912 S Nelson St) the garage door started to go up and he parked inside and the door started to close behind us. All three of us went inside to the kitchen, Maria put the beer in the refrigerator and made sure Tom saw it.

She said goodnight and disappeared into her room with the door shut.

Tom and I took quick showers and got dressed for a short walk across his neighborhood. We left his place at 10:55pm and walked one block north, two blocks east, third door on the left. I saw one Crown-Vic parked on 19th Ave but never mentioned it.

We saw the house (1722 S Highland St) all lit up and once we got close we heard music playing. Tom walked up to the door, turned the knob and we slowly walked inside.

The party was mostly girls but there were a few (5 before we arrived) boys, almost everyone was a student at Caprock, and everyone knew Tom and shouted greetings and asked about his love interest (me). I was freaked out by all the new faces and the party looked to be about 70% Hispanic, but only English was being shouted. Most of the girls were paired up with other girls. We tapped the keg sitting in a galvanized tub in the garage and took our glasses to the living room and sat down with most of the boys attending the party. Tom introduced me.

"That is Brandon and his friend Taylor, that other dude is Steve, and his friend is Michael. I smiled and waved while sipping my beer. I told Tom it tasted like Coors and he said it's usually the least expensive keg in the store. Then he changed his answer, "Texas Pride is cheaper but who drinks that shit? It's almost as bad as Grain Belt beer! This is definitely regular Coors." He already introduced me to some guy in the garage.

On the TV they had an old B&W movie playing, I think it was Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the one with Dana Wynter. I always loved that movie and those weird seed pods.

So it was the seven of us guys on the two sofas watching their TV, I think it was on a cable movie channel, like TMC. There was almost no action going on but everyone was sipping beers and I did see a few holding hands from time to time. After an hour we went to the bathroom together and took turns pissing, then back to our spot on the sofa. By then two other boys were kissing, and their empty cups sat on the coffee table.

On the walk back to the garage we passed the kitchen, we walked in so Tom could introduce me. There were five girls playing Blackjack at the table and five standing around. There was one girl sitting in the counter with no shirt on. She also had large breasts and some rather large nipples. The entire end of her breasts were covered with dark red areola tissue. She looked like she's been pregnant before. She was trying to get everyone and anyone to come feel her breasts, so we walked up. Tom knew her by name but she did not know him. She looked me up and down and told me to feel her breasts, so I did!

While I felt her huge nips and four inch wide areolas Tom raised his shirt to show her his unusually large puffy nips. She rubbed them and pinched each one and she winked at Tom and asked if he wanted to lick her pussy but he declined the offer. My dick got hard as steel gently playing with her nips, Tom had to slowly pull me away. He whispered in my ear: "Down boy, that's a trap, a big fuzzy-fishy trap." It's easy for him to be so confident about his body that he could pull me away and warn me not to get stuck in the trap. He reached down and grabbed my boner from outside my jeans and whispered again to calm down, the best was yet to come. We walked back to the sofa.

About an hour later Tom told me that chick on the counter with no shirt on was very gay and strange. He thought she might have been bipolar or borderline. She shows up at every girl party trying to recruit younglings for oral sex. So she sits on the counter with no shirt on and lets anyone play with her tits, but her goal is always the girls. And she is not 17 or 18 like the rest of them, she's like 32 and she is also probably the person who provided the keg. Tom said he's seen her at several parties, always with the girls, always with her shirt off showing off her rather large nipples. She was overweight too and her stomach was covered by stretch marks. Her nips were easily as big as the last segment of my index finger! He said he heard she's delivered two babies directly into adoption.

Back to the action on the other sofa in front of the TV: It soon became a hand under the shirt and one guy had his belly button on display for the crowd. In fact another single guy arrived after us and stood behind our sofa and was watching Brandon and Taylor make out, while Brandon had his hand higher and higher under his shirt.

It was pretty cold outside and everyone arrived with layers of clothes so over time we all shed layers until most of us guys were only in jeans and t-shirts.

Then without much sound Brandon reached over and pulled Taylor's shirt off and people started applauding from the kitchen. The two guys smiled and laughed as Taylor showed off his pale flabby upper body. He had a nice BB but the rest of him was forgettable. After that show got Tom warmed up by kissing me several times then we started making out with total beer mouth, but we were equally intoxicated so it was okay. Then we took a quick trip to the garage to refill our cups and came back and quickly downed them and made out on the sofa again. That was the first time I French kissed a boy in front of a house full of strangers. But maybe it was better that way, I had little to lose if we put on a bad show, but Tom wanted to keep going.

A newly arrived third couple sat on the love seat and did nothing but hold hands and look concerned about what was going on in public. I estimated the party had grown to about 22 people by then but there was no trouble, no crying, no fights, and no obvious drugs (not counting some weed being smoked in the kitchen).

By 11:30pm Taylor was naked on the sofa with a rather large boner pointing at the ceiling while Brandon sucked it like a pro. Then the group of people in the living room increased to nearly standing room only as Brandon sort of melted into the sofa so the only thing you could see was his pale flabby stomach, his small brown dots for nips, and his big dick pointing at the ceiling. Taylor worked that thing like a pro, which made mine hard just watching his technique. Most of the time I was watching them go at it with one eye because Tom had his mouth locked against mine and his hands up my shirt. Watching them go at it really turned me on.

Eventually, Brandon started to moan to warn everyone he was about to come, so we stopped kissing to watch the fireworks. Taylor pulled off his dick and it started to bounce up and down and spurt semen all over his body and the sofa. It was an amazing orgasm, I bet the drops flew over three feet to loud applause. I looked at the people behind us and saw someone working a video camera!

After the show ended Tom pushed me backwards so I was on my back and he started pushing my shirt up and began licking and sucking on my tits. He stopped and while he was on his knees by my hips he pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the floor in front of the TV and got some applause and then he fell down on top of me and we made out some more. Then he slid down and opened my jeans and started sucking my boner in front of nearly 20 people. I think I leaked an ounce of pre-come that evening I was so horny. Two girls standing behind the sofa reached down and rubbed my flat nips while Tom nursed on my dick. He'd pull off my dick once in a while and loudly boasted I had the best tasting pre-come!

While he was working me I looked at the TV and saw it was the part of the movie where Dr Bennell and Becky Driscoll were hiding under the planks in the mine.

Eventually I came in his mouth and he quickly chased it with beer, so he helped me get dressed and we made a trip to the bathroom then back to the keg.

We ran into Taylor and Brandon at the keg but Brandon had his jeans back on, but no shirt. I got to look at him close-up and noticed he looked like Tom, mixed race. But his nipples were truly ugly, dark brown spots the size of a dime, or less. And his nips had a few jagged long black hairs growing beside them. I would have cut them off if it was my chest.

While we visited with a group of about 10 people standing in the cold garage I moved behind Tom and slid my hand up his shirt, which he seemed to ignore. I slid my fingers up to this chest and massaged his nipples with people watching but I was behind him with my face buried in his upper back. I could tell he was getting turned on because he began talking louder and laughing more.

A small girl walked up and smiled at me. I looked down and saw she was dressed for August, not winter. She had on tight white shorts and sort of a beach top, very thin and I could clearly see her breasts and nipples through the thin white cloth. My staring didn't seem to bother her, in fact I think she liked being visually scanned. She asked if I actually came in Tom's mouth.

"Yes, I really did."

"What's it like?"

"What's semen in the mouth like?"

"Yah."

"Well, it varies person to person but it's cool, gooey, and salty. You gotta remember it's full of tiny critters like miniature tadpoles that are trying to locate and fertilize a human egg, and they'll go after certain types of flesh, like your lips. So after getting semen in your mouth you gotta either kill em or swallow em. Hot coffee works, so does anything with alcohol, or just water to flush `em down where they die instantly in stomach acids." I stared in her eyes briefly, then added, "Some guys may be more watery and runny than others, and some guys it might be a little sour tasting, but mostly it's a lot like melted popcorn butter." I told her next time she goes to the theater where they have a melted butter pump just put a few drops on her finger and lick it off, that's pretty close to what most guys taste like. I told her pre-come tastes nearly the same but it's never as thick or as much. I told her I really liked eating Tom's pre-come. I said sometimes we'll watch a movie on the TV and I'll lie beside him and lick his head during the entire movie, it's a better snack than popcorn or candy.

She stepped back and glanced at Tom and me and raised her top to expose her belly button hole and chuckled uncomfortably and walked back into the kitchen. Before she got too far I tried to be nice and tell her she had nice breasts. She smiled and walked away knowing I was staring at her ass.

But suddenly she stopped, turned around and came back and softly asked me if she tried it and liked the way it tasted would I make her some.

I was caught off guard by that question so I said, "Sure. You know Tom?" I asked assuming she went to Caprock. She said yes, she knew Tom. So I told her to let him know and he'll put us in touch. She reached out and ran her hand down my upper arm and left again. I think she was one of the babes playing Blackjack.

Back in the living room our seat was taken so we got dressed and said thanks to the host, I shook her hand and we left into the cold night air. I noticed that Crown Vic had moved closer but still looked empty. We held hands and walked home leaning into each other. We stopped in an alley for him to pee on the block wall.

While I stood waiting for him to finish I was looking around and saw a car drive west on 19th Avenue, it was another black Crown Vic, I stood there staring at the driver as it went by. The driver looked like some black man with glasses, the car turned on the next street and as we walked to Tom's house I saw one just like it parked near his house.

By 2am we showered together and got into his bed in our underwear. I moved around and helped myself to his dick and made him come, then rinsed `em down with water. Tom set his alarm for 5:45am and we turned off the light and went to sleep in his bed.

The next morning:

Standing in our underwear in front of the bathroom sink it took all my self control to keep my hands off him. But I put my arm on his shoulder then reached down and tweaked his tit. We discussed the party briefly and agreed we had a great time. I asked what he paid and he said twenty bucks for the two of us.

On the drive to Stars he asked me, "Did you really tell that girl you'd come for her?"

"Yah, why not. As a public service what harm could it cause?"

But he let the subject drop.

We drove back to Star's while it was still dark outside, Tom pounded on the back door and we went out front and he cooked us breakfast, but no bacon. I noticed the dish washing station was half full of tubs of dirty dishes, so nobody did any after we left!

He made two identical plates: two eggs up, two slices of toast, coffee, water, two sausages each, and hash browns. We sat at the counter nearest the griddle and quickly ate side by side and were done in record time and cleaned the counter and got out of the way as the cook unlocked the front door and a stream of eight customers walked in. Tom whispered to me it was usually the same people every morning.

We walked out the front door and drove to my house. He parked in the very same spot as the time when he got stabbed but never mentioned it so I didn't either. The guy who stabbed him was six feet under somewhere back in Mexico in a mass grave for returned bodies of Mexicans who died without a name. He said few people in Mexico or Central America had any idea how many innocent people died after sneaking into the States, it was appalling. But in Mexico only a few people cared about all the corpses arriving at the border in body bags, marked as Juan or Jane Doe. Mom said there's been a lot of killing in Mexico so maybe they were used to it.

Tom did something new, he reached over, grabbed my hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed my palm and turned to look straight ahead over the hood of the car and told me softly he loved me. I squeezed his hand and told him I loved him too. Then I said I needed to go check on Mom, last time I saw her she looked sick. I got out of the car and Tom drove off. Before he left he glanced at me and I did the sign language for: I love you. I thought I should show him how to do it the way Crow learned, it's faster than by ASL.

Crow met me at the kitchen door but didn't seem interested in going out, so Mom must have put him out already. I walked toward the back yard and Crow followed then passed me at a playful trot. I chased him around a little to show him I was just as happy to see him as he was to see me. I got the message from him he wanted to know how I was, what did I do last night, he missed me. I got down on my knees in the yard and hugged him and told him about my night, working at the restaurant, and that I was falling in love with Tom. Crow seemed happy for me, so I leaned over and kissed the side of his face again. When we taught him as a puppy how to kiss, we didn't teach him the face-lick kiss we taught him to bump his nose to your lower jaw, like just under your jaw, kind of an upward bump with the tip of his nose. But licking faces is instinct for dogs, but with such a large mouth on a Dane it's kind of gross, especially if they just ate or drank.

When a Dane eats they get all foamy, it sticks to the inside of their jowls, and if they shake their body after eating the foam goes flying. So I grab a paper towel and try to wipe his face with one gentle swipe. I put the paper towel on my hand and gently grab his lower jaw far back and quickly slide if forward to his nose and all that foam sticks to the paper towel and is gone.

And speaking of dogs, something they all do is they like to do the whole body shake, as if they were trying to shake water off their fur. My theory is since their skin is loose by shaking the body it re-aligns the skin, puts it back where it belongs and they feel comfortable again. Their flesh can get kind of out of whack so they have to shake to re-balance again.

Mom was in the TV room reading a text book, it looked like something relating to nuclear chemistry. The cover had an atom symbol with the large ROCKWELL logo in the corner. I shouted hi and heard her coughing. I knew from seeing it on a TV science show that new types of nuclear reactors were being built and operated, ones that would eat nuclear waste and still make lots of steam and generate power. I'm not sure how much of that was related to her work, but Pantex (I think) only makes bombs and parts for bombs, not steam generators. But who knows, the plant is super secret. Mom refuses to discuss her work. So I know more about Pantex from watching TV news than she ever says to me.

Back in my room I stripped and headed for the shower then back to my room, fired up the computer and wrote Tom an email telling him thanks again for last night and the party too. I'm sure he felt since I worked for free that he owned me something, so he paid for my share of the keg. Oh that reminds me speaking of pay. When we got to his bedroom last night he had a paycheck sitting out and I got a glance at it and saw he gets paid about $7.75 an hour as a busboy and $15 an hour as a short order cook. But he also gets some tips. I get $7 an hour for cleaning dog cages.

Later on that morning he emailed to say that he talked to Management again about going to college in Galveston. And she said they had relatives in Galveston, like second cousins or something. He had no idea who they were but might have met them at Christmas ten years ago or something. I think he said it was Maria's grandfather's brother's descendants, same maiden name as hers. Maria told Tom there were a lot of American Indians living in Galveston too. He told me he thinks his mom wants him to go to college in Amarillo.

This is what Tom told me his mother taught him: "Back in the 1700s and 1800s the US Army tried to round-up all Indians and move them to reservations in Oklahoma, but different groups of them refused to move. There were a lot of Indians living along the Gulf coast so today they live in cities like Galveston (Corpus, New Orleans, etc) but for several reasons they sort of blended into the Mexican culture over time. They look very similar, they're mostly all Catholic, listen to Spanish music, speak Spanish, eat Mexican food and sort of became culturally Hispanic but are very much Indian. He said most Mexicans today are descended from Indians anyway because the Indian nations did not have fixed borders, from Panama to Alaska it was all one big Indian nation. She taught him that Mexicans today are mostly descended from either Spaniards or Indians. But if you go out onto the Caribbean Islands the Indians there are descended from Aboriginals with dark black skin. She said all of Africa, southern India, and the Caribbean islands were populated by people originally from New Guinea and Indonesia. She also said North American Indians originally came (by boat) from Japan, Korea, China, and Southeast Asia, thousands of years ago."

I've heard older gay men say if you strip naked a modern man from Japan, another from Korea, a Navajo from Arizona, an Indian from Mexico, and a Maya from Guatemala that below the neck they all look the same, only their faces are different.

That day I got the print out from the Alternative Prom page on AOL put on by PFLAG down at A&M University. Daniel scanned the paper and emailed it to me. The tickets are more than twice the cost of prom tickets at my own high school, but fuck them! I got out my hidden piggy bank and counted out enough money to pay for two tickets and rode my bicycle to Piggly Wiggly for a money order, filled it in and mailed it to the PFLAG office right then. Back at home I emailed the time and date to Tom and begged him to go with me, I already had his ticket. I gave my AHS prom ticket to Maggie to give away or sell, there was no way to get a refund.

The rest of the day was about typical. Mom was still sickly looking, I tried to keep a safe distance, but she was covering her mouth. I walked Crow, this time he walked out the front door and headed in a totally different direction. I just kept up, he sniffed and explored new territory stopping to pee a few drops of scented piss here and there. Crow reminds me of a Far Side comic of the wife-dog catching her husband-dog in the front yard with the garden hose in his mouth asking him if he was going out with the boys tonight.

I got to bed early that evening. Too much reading made me sleepy. I never heard back from Tom that day about the other prom.

I heard Mom coughing in her bedroom when I got up to pee. She sounded like she's getting worse. I think she's even coughed so much it made her gag and puke a little.

I got a good look at her before supper and she looked really bad, she definitely has some kind of bug living in her lungs, she's coughing up green lung boogers. When she breathes it sounds like she has a small harmonica implanted in her airway. She told me that at work they told her to go home and don't come back until her fever is gone. She's had a fever of like 103.1 for over two days.

Write the author: borischenaz mailfence com

Now things are starting to happen... stay tuned as the story begins to change dramatically.

BTW, if you like this story I should suggest three other books I have written with a similar style on Nifty use the search function to look for my name: `boris chen' or the names of the stories, which are:

Crossing Panama

Response Team

Captured

A book I wrote years ago should return to Nifty, formerly titled: `Love and the Cyborg' but it will return to Nifty under another name this time, something with the word Cyborg.

Its set 60 years in the future when human shaped robots are so realistic it is nearly impossible to tell at a quick meeting if the person you are talking to is actually human.

People buy cyborgs as companions or as employees. Governments buy them to become soldiers, some buy cyborgs to assist the elderly or children, some buy them and fall in love and get married! People order custom made cyborgs with the personality and body of their dreams. Imagine a cyborg friend who likes the exact same stuff as you, and agrees with almost everything you say, and has the ultimate body you crave for a sex partner.

Then the question becomes: can a cyborg live independently as a real person? Can they own property, pay taxes, be sent to prison for crimes, and is it illegal to kill a cyborg, or is it just a financial crime? Can they get jobs, earn a salary, buy a car, rent an apartment, and live an independent life? Is it moral to own a slave, even if it only has a computer brain and a pump instead of a heart?

In this story the cyborgs are a combination of semi-human flesh, with some human organs, and man-made internal parts. They have no pulse but they breathe air. Their hair grows naturally and they have smaller bones but the larger bones are titanium with battery packs inside. And they connect by wire to a charger to supplement what they make with their own internal power source.

If you are an audiophile or fan of movie theaters this book may also appeal to you because some of the story takes place at a factory where they design/build auditorium/stadium sound systems.