Gay sex, straight sex, torrid romance and true love.

THE ADVENTURES OF THE STRAIGHT DOPE

By Joe Reister © 2024

Table of Contents

• Two Guys Just Messing Around
• Two Years, Eight Months And Nine Days
• Back In The Real World
• Post Game Report

Two Guys Just Messing Around

The large bedroom was pitch black, the sweet smelling breeze was air conditioned cool and the clean silk sheets were baby skin soft.  Everyone was breathing hard, feeling heavenly and life was beautiful. 

“Yes,” a man said into the deep silence, his voice getting higher and thinner in just one syllable.  “Yes.”  He breathed in deep.  “Right.”  Then he breathed deeper.  “There.”  He failed to catch his breath.  “Oh.”

A little laugh caught right in the back of another man’s throat.

“Oh, yes.  That’s it.  Yes.”  He gasped.  “Yes.  More.  Right there.”  He groaned.  “More.  Yes, right there.”  He moaned.  “Oh.  Please.  Mo…”

“Yes.  Okay.  I got it.”  The other man laughed again, louder now, almost giggling, and shifted on the bed to steady himself and hold up the man.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yes, oh,” the man said, and a long, loud and free moan echoed across and around the large bedroom, escaping through the thick door and beyond into the rest of the two bedroom condominium.  “Yes.”

The other man smiled big in the dark and sat all the way up as the first man trembled, gasped and groaned on the king sized bed underneath them, breathing in deeper as he reached out to the sides of the firm mattress and grabbed hold of its firmer edges with all of his fingers and toes. 

“Happy?” the other man said with another, softer laugh and steadied the man with one hand over his heart and used the other to push back the thick hair out of his own face.  “Feeling good?”

“I.”  The man stared up wide eyed at nothing and shook his head three times at everything in the dark, lying absolutely still on the giant bed for a long quiet minute, and then finally breathed normally again and turned to the other man with almost a frown that couldn’t be seen.  “I don’t know.”  

“You don’t know?”  The other man scoffed, lying back down next to the man in the dark, looking in the direction of his face, and smiled with a raised eyebrow that couldn’t be seen at all.  “That all sounded pretty happy to me.”  He laughed again in the back of his throat and wiped his face off.  “Actually, about as happy as a man could get.”  He nodded to himself, grinning too, and then shook his head just once at the man.  “No?”

“Maybe too happy?”  The man got out through a cough, shaking his own head even more, and sat up to turn his back to him.

“Too happy.”  The other man sat up too, quickly scooching closer across the giant bed and felt around in the dark to put both of his arms around the man’s narrow waist and chest.  “What are you talking about?”  He pulled in the man closer, giving him a squeeze, and laughed again.  “It all felt pretty good to me, and I was doing all of the...”

“No.”  The man flinched at the hug, shaking off the other man, and pulled himself away from the bed with a big shrug.  “I’ve got to go.”  He stood up then and bent over, fumbling around in the dark and now uncomfortable silence, and grabbed a button down shirt and tie from the hardwood floor.  “I’m sorry.”  He reached down and fumbled around for more.  “This was a bad idea.”

“What?”  The other man leaned forward, reaching out for the man in the dark, but stayed on the bed when he heard him step away.  “We just got started.”  He sat up, shrugged, and sighed.  “I’ve got cherries and whip cream in the refrig...”

“Cherries and whip cream?”  The man gulped, fumbling with his pants, and caught a different kind of breath.  “No.  I can’t handle that.”  He coughed again.  “That’s too much.”  He breathed deep yet again.  “Way too much.”

“Too much?”  The other man stood up from the bed then, reaching out again in the dark, but still didn’t find him.  “Too much what?”  He took a step forward.  “Happiness?”

“Yes.”  The man took two steps back and headed for the door.  “Bye.”

“Bye?”  The other man frowned standing next to his bed now, reaching out with both arms one last time, and then threw up both of his hands high in the air.  “You’re not even dressed.”  He took two steps and reached over to the lamp on his nightstand.  “Let me at least turn on the lights, and we can…”

The bedroom door opened with a loud click and the man slipped out quickly and into the light before shutting it hard behind him with almost a bang.

“Really?”  The other man flicked on the lamp, seeing the man’s hand made suit jacket and gold Rolex watch still laying on the floor where they had pulled off each other’s clothes, and turned toward the door with a narrow eyed look.  “What is going on?”

Two Years, Eight Months And Nine Days Later

“Yee hah,” the loud and jubilant young man with wavy light brown hair, big, bright, blue eyes and an even bigger, shiny smile said, yelling out to the whole world, and raised both of his hands as high as he could stretch them above his head and over the packed crowd around him.  “This is the greatest thing ever, John Paul.  Ever.”  He turned to nod big to a little older and much better dressed and styled version of himself standing next to him.  “Who knew you could have so much fun at a rodeo?”

The county fairgrounds hustled and bustled with a multitude of different and intriguing sights, sounds and smells, mingling together in just about the right mix that worked for him and the rest of the crowd.  Everyone smiled big and wide, the horses and bulls seemed happy and calm, and the multitude of small sellers and food vendors were moving a lot of expensive and exclusive souvenirs and too many delicious but not nutritious fried foods and adult beverages of all kinds to appeal to the unhealthy and healthy consumers of the world.

“Not me, Puck,” John Paul said, much more quietly and calmly, turning away from him and noting the even happier looks in the crowded stands all around them, and then shook his head.  “But Richard and I are so glad you could make it, right, Richard?”

“What’s going on here?” a tall, dark and immaculately dressed Black man with a nearly shaved head said.  He stared at a short 1950s styled cowboy and a tall authentically dressed cowgirl wrestling an actual cow six times their size into the dust and dirt of the worn corral as a very large drag queen in a bright red ballroom gown sauntered up with a parasol and in high heels and sat down right on top of it.  “John Paul, this isn’t a rodeo.”  His black eyes flashed to the pink boa thrown over the now smiling queen’s ample and exaggerated facsimile of a bosom.  “There weren’t any drag queens in the old west.”

“Well, not in the regular and state sanctioned history books, no.”  John Paul laughed out loud, taking it all in, with a straight eyed look at the 1950s styled cowboy and half shrugged.  “But it’s a gay rodeo, right?”  He laughed even more as the 1950s styled cowboy almost fell over the authentically dressed cowgirl and shook his head.  “I mean, what did you expect, the Marlboro Man and Clint Eastwood?”

“Clint Eastwood’s going to be here?”  Puck gave him a look with wider eyes and an open mouth, shaking his head too, and turned to look at and through the crowd around them.

“No, Puck.”  John Paul facepalmed and pushed back his thick, light brown hair out of his face.  “I’m guessing Clint won’t be showing up.”  Then he did a double take at the two trim old men three rows in front of them.  He stared an extra second at the taller, lankier and tauter one with a scowling expression and squinty eyes who looked like an actual cowboy and not like the fake ones all around them.  “Although you never know.”

“No kidding, John Paul?”  Puck noticed them too and pointed to the shorter man who wasn’t even wearing a cowboy hat.  “Really?”

“Why did we bring you along again?”  John Paul turned away from the two old men, sighing, and looked right at Puck with a raised eyebrow.  “Do you remember?”

“Because you had an extra ticket, because I didn’t have anything else to do and because you wanted to spend time with your very favorite brother.”  Puck put on a crooked smile, pointing his two thumbs right at himself, and patted John Paul on the shoulder with a look and a nod.

“And aren’t we all having a ball?”  John Paul shook his head with a roll of his eyes and finished his half glass of wine.  “Just like at…”

“Yeah.”  Puck smiled big, nodding bigger, and gave him the biggest wink.  “And good thing you don’t have any other siblings, eh.”

“Eh.”  John Paul laughed, staring at Puck for a long second, and handed him the empty glass.  “And thank you.”

“If you two are done with the usual brotherly banter, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”  Richard pointed as the large drag queen in the bright red ballroom gown raised their hands high on the now standing cow in the middle of the corral and the 1950s styled cowboy and authentically dressed cowgirl pulled it slowly but surely across a wide line drawn in the dirt as the crowd in the stands got loud and went wild.

John Paul watched it all with another laugh, and he and Richard shared a smile.  “Told you we’d have fun.”  He nudged Richard and kissed him quickly on the lips with googly eyes and a quick feel.  “Right?”

“You did, hon.”  Richard kissed him back with a beaming smile and a curt nod.  “You did.”

“Can we see what else is around?”  Puck shrugged, looking past them, the drag queen in the bright red ballroom gown and the crowd of cosplay cowboys, and pointed to the multiple sellers and food vendors outside of the makeshift stadium.  “This is kind of goofy, and...”

“Sure.”  John Paul nodded, sharing a look with Richard, and then turned right back to Puck.  “You want that Coke now?”

“You’re the best older brother a guy could ever want,” Puck said, looking right back at him with a big smile and a bigger nod and then patted him on the shoulder again.  “Thanks.”

“Jesus.”  John Paul closed his eyes at him with a deep sigh but started forward.  “Let’s go.”

“Mom wouldn’t like that.”  Puck stutter stopped, giving him a look, and raised a finger at him.  “Taking the lord’s name…”

“Sorry.”  John Paul looked back with a now sinking face, raising his own hand up in between them for a second, but nodded.  “I’ll try harder.”

“Good,” Puck said, nodding too, and smiled again.  “She’d be happy to hear that.”

“She would.”  John Paul chuckled, catching a look and a grin from Richard, but ignored it and kept them all moving toward the vendors and a big tent behind them.  “Although she’d enjoy this.”

“She would.”  Puck noticed all the many people in the crowd dressed in cowboy gear and other kinds of crazy outfits and chuckled too.  “Definitely.

“What does a gay cowboy do if he’s really good?” Richard said with a tight look at some of the more authentically dressed cowboys, following Puck and John Paul, and glanced back at the bull and the drag queen in the bright red ballroom gown.  “I mean, do they bother with this amateur cow and fashion stuff or…?”

“Some of these guys are actually pretty good, Richard.”  Puck turned away from the wall to wall want to be cowboys and girls and back to the corral again, craning his head over the standing only crowd and half shrugged.  “Look at…”

“Yes, but they’re just pretty good, Puck.”  Richard shrugged all the way, noting now that the cow was much, much bigger than the drag queen, cowboy and cowgirl combined.  “I’d imagine if they wanted to make it big, they’d hit the real rodeo circuit, though.”  He turned back to John Paul who just kept people watching.  “There is a real rodeo circuit, right, John?”

“Sure, I guess,” John Paul turned to him, making a big face, and shrugged too.  “There’s got to be, right?”

“There is.”  Puck turned, pausing, and nodded to both of them.

John Paul and Richard both stopped in their tracks then, turning away from each other and the rest of the crowds, and looked only at him.  “Really?”

“I’ve seen it on ESPN a few times.”  Puck nodded, giving them a look and a shrug, and waved them forward.  “They show all the sports.  You know that?”

“Rodeo’s an actual sport?”  Richard said with bigger eyes, looking right at Puck, and moved again.  “Like a competitive one?  That makes money?””

“Yes.  I mean, look at those guys.”  Puck pointed back to the short 1950s styled cowboy and the tall authentically dressed cowgirl still struggling against the bull and threw up a hand.  “That can’t be easy, right?  Cows are freaking huge.”  He nodded, mostly to himself.  “I’ve seen them up close and personal at the petting zoo back home, and even though I was a lot shorter then, dealing with them one on one is harder than any sport I’ve played.”

“Even hockey?”  John Paul caught up to him to give him a nudge and grinned big as they started walking next to each other again.  “Really?”

“Let’s not go crazy.”  Puck stared with half a frown for a second, nudging him back, and then flashed a bigger grin.  “But moving cows around and milking them is harder than the wimpy American baseball, basketball or football that’s for sure.  Those animals weigh a ton, literally, and they’re not just going to follow orders.”  He stopped for a moment, pointing back to the corral and the cow now dragging the short 1950s styled cowboy and tall authentically dressed cowgirl.  “Didn’t you watch what was going on today?”

“So, if you’re really good then you’d go to the major leagues on ESPN?” Richard said and pointed to a white cargo van with the local Fox news station signage parked on the edge of the fairgrounds.  “Or…?”

“Or Fox Sports Network.”  Puck nodded, pointing to a lone camera with a network logo at the far end of the corral, and gave him a look and a smile.  “Exactly.”

“Yes, I guess they would.”  John Paul looked back at the corrals, narrowing his eyes on all of it, and saw two more TV cameras before pointing to the short 1950s styled cowboy and tall authentically dressed cowgirl.  “But none of these guys are kicking ass.”

“Not in the rodeo.”  Richard chuckled and grinned big with a look at all the cowboy hats and tight jeans all around them.  “But I’m betting a lot of people score here, huh?”

“I think that’s the whole point, hon.”  John Paul chuckled, turning his head, and looked too.  “No?”

Richard raised an eyebrow and grinned more.

“I thought we were going to check out the rest of the rodeo now.”  Puck kept his eyes in front of them and nodded to the giant tent behind the dozens of vendors and foods stalls in smaller tents not that far away.

John Paul and Richard both looked at each other with raised eyebrows and then turned back to Puck.

“Sure.  I’m good to go now that the drag queen stuff is over.”  John Paul took the lead to the big tent, laughing at what he saw was ahead, and waved them forward.  “I don’t think you’ll be into the rest of the gay rodeo, Puck.”  He shook his head.  “But let’s take a look, eh?”

“Eh.”  Puck nodded big, taking back the lead, and they headed away from the grandstand.  He smiled and nodded at the many winks coming his way and the even more numerous cowboy hats, not noticing the many more lingering stares or ubiquity of the big belt buckles on nearly everyone as he headed faster to the music coming from the big tent with the several Budweiser and Coke signs on top of it.

“I can’t believe people pay to even be here.”  Richard stopped then and stared at the extensive tattoos, tight shirts and sculpted beards outside of a makeshift parlor and barber shop.  “You know…”

“I thought you’d be enjoying yourself.”  John Paul grinned as he watched Richard try and fail to subtly check out the crowd’s tight pants below the belt buckles.  “Lexington has all of those horses.”

“Yes,” Richard looked up from below, turning right to him with a smirk, and half shrugged.  “But that’s horse farms, with Arabs, Brits and a last few Kentuckians prepping for the Derby.”  He looked back down for another second.  “I don’t think I’ve even seen anyone other than jockeys and rich folks ride a horse.”  He gave John Paul a big wink and a bigger smile.  “And they weren’t cowboys or openly gay that’s for sure.”

“So.”  John Paul poked him and smiled too.  “You never saw horses or cows as a kid?”  At all?”

“I grew up in the suburbs, John.”  Richard shook his head but stared at the horses on the edge of the corral.  “Lexington is a thriving metropolis, or at least a thriving pseudo metropolis.”  He chuckled and turned back to him.  “The only time I saw any animals was at the petting zoo or maybe on TV.”

“Not even dogs or cats?” John Paul said, grabbing his hand to give it a quick squeeze as they kept maneuvering through the crowds.  “Really?”

“I’m allergic.”  Richard eyed him but kept smiling and flashed the wedding ring on his left hand.  “That’s something you should remember by now, you know?”

“Sorry.”  John Paul held up the ring on his own left hand in surrender and gestured to a trio of colorfully costumed cowboys in only chaps and thongs.  “But didn’t you even watch Westerns growing up?  Gunsmoke or Bonanza?”  He poked him again.  “You haven’t heard of John Wayne?”

“No, not a chance, baby.”  Richard shook his head, grinning slowly as they got past the underdressed trio, and started humming a few notes and tapping to the beat of an Isaac Hayes song.  “It was Shaft, Star Wars and Star Trek.”  He took back his hand and did a few spontaneous dance steps there on the spot, pointing to John Paul and then Puck with an even bigger grin and raised his hand with his four fingers spread apart in the Vulcan greeting.  “You Canadians are the only folks who watched that corny western stuff when you were kids.”

“Yes, because the Lexington suburbs are so exciting?”  John Paul stopped, taking in his moves, and then gave him a look.  “I’ve been…”

“Compared to Canada.”  Richard pointed to Puck now drinking a Coke in a mega plastic cup and gave John Paul a look back.  “They are, baby.”  He danced and grinned more.  “They are.”

“Okay.”  John Paul turned to his brother still enjoying the Coke, closing his eyes as he gave the soda vendor a $10 bill, and then opened them to nod as Puck smiled at the now half empty mega cup.  “You might have something there.”

“Hey, they have dancing.”  Puck turned to the sound of guitars, drums and a bass guitar, handing John Paul the still half full mega plastic cup of Coke in one quick motion, and ran into the big tent where at least a hundred people were line dancing to a live five man band.

“What did I just say?”  Richard slapped his own forehead as the dancers strutted their stuff and then looked up to the heavens.  “It’s like God is listening at all the right moments.”

“I don’t think Puck’s a fair example.”  John Paul sighed as Puck ran straight to the first dance line without looking back, got a nod of approval from a tiny mustached man in a too tiny pair of shorts and jumped right in with a hundred other people, immediately two stepping and sliding to the right with the rest of the crowd.  “And don’t bring God into this.”

“You can take the kid out of Canada.”  Richard smiled big, his eyes following Puck as he slid back to the left and threw up a hand with a laugh.  “But you can’t take Canada out of the kid.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jones.”  John Paul shook his head at his brother but smiled big too.  “But you can’t blame Canada for that.”

“All I’m saying is that I never took dancing lessons as a kid.”  Richard gave John Paul a gentle nudge and a small smooch.  “Like…”

“Too busy going to the Fayetteville mall?”  John Paul nudged him back and gave him a bigger smooch.  “Right?”

“Something like that.”  Richard nodded big, eyeing the muscular man next to them with the large belt buckle, and shrugged with a big grin.  “Showing off and checking out everyone was what I did in my teen years.”

“Just like here.”  John Paul pointed to a cowboy leering at the two of them and smiled back with a nod.  “Tis the reason.”

“For the season, yes.”  Richard grinned more and looked back into the big tent with a laugh and a shake of his head.  “And I’m glad to see Puck fits in as usual.”  He noticed three different cowboys checking out Puck from three different angles.  “It’s that good old Canadian goodness at work.”

“That actually does look hard.”  John Paul stared right at his brother matching the cowboy’s two-step and jumps back and forth without even looking at the other dancers now.  “I couldn’t do that.”

“You didn’t take dancing lessons as a kid?”  Richard turned back to him with wider eyes.  “Seriously?”

“No, not at all.”  John Paul laughed with half a look, still mostly watching Puck, and gave him a shrug.  “Our folks didn’t have any money when I was ten, and I think my dad was definitely steering me in another direction.”

“Trying to keep you on the straight and narrow?”  Richard gave him a squeeze.  “Make sure you’re living the good life.”

“Still trying I think.”  John Paul laughed and squeezed back.  “But I played youth hockey and lacrosse like everyone else.”  He shook his head.  “He said no more than once to rugby, though.”

“The second most homoerotic sport after Greco Roman wrestling.”  Richard shook his head, smiling more, and gave him a look.  “And funny, since your dad’s so cool about things now.” 

“Too true.”  John Paul shrugged, his eyes still on Puck, but then looked back at Richard.  “That’s what fifteen years of adjustment will do.”

“I hear that.”  Richard nodded, sharing a bigger smile with John Paul when the big tent’s music came to an end and they both noticed the tall cowboy now standing very close to Puck. 

“You’re really good, handsome.  Jumping in like that.”  The tall cowboy offered Puck a hand.  “I’m super impressed.”

“Thanks, I do what I can.”  Puck shook his hand, smiling big while nodding to a few of the other dancers, and shrugged as he turned to look back at the tall cowboy.  “I just had to pick up on the pattern and then everything else fell into place.”

“I saw that.”  The tall cowboy let go of Puck’s hand slowly, almost caressing it, and looked him right in the eye.  “Name’s Ted.”

“Puck.”  He looked right back, nodding, and gave him a big smile.  “Pleased to meet you.”

“Puck huh?”  The tall cowboy looked him up and down, twice, nodding big, and stepped in a little closer.  “That stands out.”

“Yeah, well, my real name is Calvin, but I’ve always gone by Puck.”  He grinned.  “It’s not something people forget.”

“I can see why.”  Ted smiled and gestured to Puck’s clear skin, broad shoulders and flat stomach.  “You look good, Puck.”  He winked.  “Real good.”

“Well, thanks, Ted.  That’s nice to hear.”  Puck nodded, looking past Ted to see his brother and Richard stare right at him with big eyes, but kept smiling.  “I run almost every day.”  He shrugged a little and blushed a little more.  “Trying to keep my girlish figure, you know?”

“Yes indeed.”  Ted looked Puck up and down again and pointed to their fellow dancers and the rest of the crowd.  “Here with anyone?

“Just my brother.”  Puck waved to John Paul, who tried to wave him away from Ted, and then looked back at him.  “And Richard, of course.”

“And they’re together?”  Ted turned to notice John Paul and Richard standing right next to each other with their lack of cowboy hats and giant belt buckles on the edge of the dance floor but kept his eyes on Puck.  “Married?”

“Going strong on two and a half years now.”  Puck nodded, giving his brother and Richard a thumb’s up, and then smiled at Ted.  “Eloped last year during a six-week trip to Europe.  In Amsterdam.”

“So, you’re not here with anyone then?”  Ted smiled back and winked again.  “Specifically.”

“Yeah, like I told you.”  Puck made a face at the second wink in less than a minute and now noticed John Paul’s beckoning wave with a raised eyebrow.  “John Paul and Richard.”

“I don’t suppose you’re up for a ride then.”  Ted wriggled his hips backwards and forward and then to the left and right for a second before somehow stepping even closer to Puck and gave him a third wink.  “Are you?”

“What?”  Puck looked at Ted again, losing most of his smile, and took half a step back.  “A ride?”

“What do you say I give you a ride, at your place if you like?”  Ted nodded big, closing the distance between them again, and pointed south to the city.  “Or mine if that’s more convenient, Puck?”

“I don’t get you.”  He made a face at Ted but squinted at John Paul’s facepalm at the edge of the dance floor.  “I’m heading back with John Paul and Richard.”

“Sure.”  Ted’s eyes narrowed on Puck.  “Okay.”  He licked his lips and then smacked them hard.  “But maybe you’d be interested in dancing with me.  Later.  Alone.  In a horizontal position.  At my place or yours?”  He smiled yet again, bigger than ever, pointing to himself and then Puck, and nodded three times as big as he could.  “Whichever works for you.”

“Um.”  Puck’s eyebrows went up high, and he swallowed hard.  “I, uh, think you’ve got the wrong idea, mister.”

“It’s Ted.”  He kept on smiling and nodding.  “Right, Puck?”

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea, Ted.”  Puck looked past him and right at John Paul again, focusing right on him and watching him mouth the words, ‘About time,’ before turning back to Ted and losing what was left of his smile.  “Like I said, I’m here with John Paul and Richard.”

“And I’m here with friends, too.”  Ted shrugged with narrowing eyes and let out a grin.  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t meet new people.”

“Right.”  Puck made a face and turned back to John Paul and Richard, who threw up their hands.  “Well, I’ve got to go, Ted.”  He gave him a smile and nod and pointed to John Paul and Richard.  “Thanks for the dance and quick conversation and have a nice day.”

“Right.  Sure.  Of course.”  Ted frowned slowly and all the way down as Puck walked over to John Paul and Richard on the edge of the dance floor.  “And you have a nice day too.”  He threw him a hand gesture, shaking his head big, and spit on the dance floor.  “Idiot.”

“And now we have a winner,” John Paul said as Puck walked over, still making a face and looking back at Ted.  “Yes, indeed, someone who can be as slow as molasses has discovered that there are men on the prowl at the gay rodeo, and that dancing, like with women, is also foreplay for men.”

“What the heck?”  Puck turned to them with widening eyes, shaking his head again, and threw up both of his hands in the air.  “How was I…?”

“How long have you lived in DuPont Circle, kid?”  Richard stepped forward and put his arm all the way around Puck, pulling him in close, and gave him a look and a smile.  “Three years?”

“A couple.”  Puck looked back, smiling back, and let Richard pull him in even closer as they headed away from the dance floor and out of the large tent.  “You know that.” 

“And you’re still slow as molasses about gay men?”  Richard nodded big, pointing to all of the tight jeans and giant belt buckles on half the men and a few of the women at the fairgrounds, and flashed a crooked grin.  “Really?”

“And twice as thick.” John Paul grinned from ear to ear, pointing Puck back to the three men in nothing but chaps and thongs, and threw up a hand.  “You didn’t notice?”

“Hey, I was just being friendly.”  Puck shrugged at both of them, nodding to the crowd still in the big tent, and half frowned at himself.  “I didn’t think…”

“But four times as sweet,” John Paul and Richard said together, sharing a look and another smile as Richard patted Puck on the back and gave him a big squeeze.

“Great.”  Puck squeezed back, forcing a smile, and laughed with them.  “Thanks.”

“You know we love you.”  Richard patted him on the back again with a peck on the cheek and let him go.  “And everything about you.”

“Do you know why women aren’t as forward as that?”  Puck looked at the very few women who were there in their cowgirl gear, pointing back at the now long gone Ted, and then turned right back to both of them.  “I mean...”

“You’re not paying them.”  Richard raised one finger with a grin.  “And…”

“They don’t want to get pregnant.”  John Paul nodded, grinning too, and Richard raised a second finger.  “Plus…”

“They expect men to make the first move.”  Richard pointed to all of the men around them talking to other men, and then raised a third finger, looking right back at Puck.  “Remember, like twenty seconds ago?”

“Yeah.”  Puck gave him a look.  “Well, I’ve made the first move more than a few times.”  He noticed a lot of men talking close to a lot of other men too, pointing to all of them, and kept walking.  “But never like that.”

Richard looked all around, laughing big, and glanced back at John Paul.

“Puck,” he said, catching Richard’s look.  “You might not have picked up on this yet, but a lot of men in the gay community would be considered by the rest of the world to be …”  He turned back to Richard with a tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow.  “How should I put this?”

“Slutty, easy and ready for action twenty-four seven.”  Richard laughed, nodding big, and shrugged bigger right at Puck.  “Three hundred sixty five days a year.”

“Yes, I think you could say that.”  John Paul stifled a laugh and slapped Puck on the back.  “And 366 in a leap year.”

“Really, everyday?”  Puck made a face and looked back at his brother.  “Even you?”  

“Hah.”  Richard laughed out loud, almost stopping in his tracks, but kept walking and shook his head.  “Boy, if only you knew.”

Puck stutter stopped and turned right to John Paul.

“Except that’s a line I’d prefer not to cross with my younger brother,” John Paul said to Richard, shaking his head but smiling, and pulled Puck past the last few vendors.  “Okay?”

“Yeah, and that’s fine with me too.”  Puck nodded big, twice, and then gave John Paul a look.  “I don’t want to lie to Mom.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”  John Paul leaned over and gave him a squeeze.  “Because we’re not going to talk about this anymore.”  He looked him right in the eye and nodded big, three times.  “Okay?”

“Okay.”  Puck smiled, and they shared a look.  “Thanks.”

“That’s great.”  Richard wrapped his arms around both of them but turned right to Puck.  “But I can’t believe you’re so surprised by all of this.”  He gave him a look.  “You live in DuPont?

“What are you talking about?”  Puck half smiled at the half hug and looked right back at Richard.  “It’s not like …”

“I mean you straights do the same thing to women?” Richard said as they now made their way together straight through the crowd and out of the fairgrounds.  “I remember back in college when I still had straight allusions.”  He laughed to himself, sharing a look with John Paul, and gave a big shrug to Puck.  “I walked up to numerous cheerleaders, skipped the formalities and asked them to just get it on.”

“You?”  Puck shook his head and laughed.  “Really?”

“And they said?”  John Paul noticed Puck’s look and gave Richard a big grin.  “Hon?”

“They mostly slapped me across the face and said, ‘no.’” Richard laughed more and gave Puck a nudge.  “But you’d be surprised how much school spirit some of them had.”  He smiled then and nodded too.  “And how many noticed I worked out.”

“I’m not surprised it took you so long to come out,” John Paul said, eyeing Richard with a wink, and grinned again from ear to ear.  “What with those shoulders.”

“What can I tell you?”  Richard grinned too, striking a pose, and flexed his strapping arms above his head.  “I was a popular guy with everyone.”

“Yeah.”  Puck stared at both of them and sighed.  “You see I can’t do that.”  

“That’s why you have the time to be the only straight guy at the gay rodeo.”  John Paul laughed and pointed back to the crowd.  “And…”

“I came here to hang out with you guys.”  Puck’s face tightened to turn down a bit, and he focused on only John Paul and Richard.  “You know, because we’re fam…”

“And we’re glad you came,” Richard smiled right at him, giving him a thumb’s up, and then pulled him in closer.  “But I think I’ve experienced enough fake western culture to last a lifetime, huh?”  He patted John Paul on the shoulder and pointed them both to the parking lot.  “So, let’s go home, okay?”

“Yeah.”  Puck smiled too, taking in both of them, and kept moving forward.  “Okay.”

“Sounds good.”  John Paul nodded, glancing back at the rodeo for a second, and then headed to the exit.  “I think we did all we could here anyway.”

Back In The Real World

Puck, John Paul and Richard left behind the too tight jeans, the too big belt buckles and all of the rodeo hustle and bustle to step into the mundane quiet of a large but dull parking lot.  It was filled with hundreds of cars, more than a few pseudo cowboys and a couple of people standing out for being ignored or avoided by everybody else in their business casual outfits. 

“Well, well, well,” John Paul said, taking in the non-rodeo world, and then noticed the two people standing out in the crowd for their brown and white drabness.  “Look what we have here.”

A familiar looking man and a too beautiful woman in tan khakis, blue and white golf shirts and whiter sneakers waited out front of the fairground entrance smiling and waving big to the rodeo enthusiasts walking all the way around them in a big circle as the two failed to hand out their very black and white brochures to anyone.

“Yeah.”  Puck noticed the young blond and blue eyed woman with the bright smile and symmetrical features and started forward with his own smile.  “Look.”

“Are those protesters?”  Richard raised an eyebrow, seeing the brochures scattered on the ground behind the couple and on the path leading to the fairgrounds’ main entrance.  “Here?”

“That’s Washington, DC, for you.”  John Paul nodded to the familiar looking man, chuckling loudly, and pushed both of his hands through his short thick light brown hair.  “We have a protest about everything and anything.”

“I didn’t think the rodeo was big enough to register with the animal rights activists.”  Richard glanced over at the small number of trailers for horses and cows clustered nearby in the talent’s parking annex.  “In fact, I didn’t…”

“I think it’s about the cocks, not the bulls, hon.”  John Paul pointed to the couple, giving them their golf shirts and khakis a closer look, and then laughed.  “And I’m pretty sure it’s more about them than us.”

“When isn’t it?”  Richard shook his head, staring right at them, and laughed out loud.  “But they must have some big ones if they think they’re going to make any headway here.”

“Yes, well, they do have some big ones.”  John Paul stared only at the man now, laughing more, and threw up a hand at both him and the woman.  “Although he didn’t know what to do with them.”

“What?”  Richard turned and gave him a look, pointing to the man now, and raised an eyebrow.  “You actually know that guy?”

“Yeah, I know that guy.”  John Paul shook his head at the man, watching his blank look, and started forward with the hint of a grin.  “Jerry Robertson.  As I live and breathe.”  He chuckled and waved his hand high to him.  “How the heck are you?”

“Sorry.” Jerry turned, blinking, and put on a smile as he held out a brochure to him.  “Would you like some literature on how to solve a growing American problem, sir?”

“I sure would.”  John Paul stopped three feet in front of him, nodding big, and gave him a bigger smile before pointing to his own face with both hands.  “But you really don’t remember me, do you?”

“Should I?”  Jerry nodded back, still smiling, but then shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t…”

“Three years ago, in like September.”  John Paul gave him an even bigger smile, nodding more as he took a black and white brochure, and handed it off to Richard who started laughing behind him.  “We enjoyed the love that shan’t speak its name.”

“I am sorry, what?”  Jerry shook his head again, twice now, staring right at John Paul and put on a laugh.  “But I think you have me confused with someone else.”  He pointed to his own face.  “A lot of people think I’m their cousin or…

“And I can see I didn’t quite have the amazing effect I thought.”  John Paul sighed and almost frowned, looking back at a now grinning Richard who gave him a big shrug, and then turned back to Jerry with a raised eyebrow.  “Nothing at all, eh?

“Yes, again.  I don’t think we’ve ever met, sir.”  Jerry half swallowed, holding up a second brochure for him, but also took a step back.  “But maybe…”

“You don’t remember me at all?  Not even a little bit?”  John Paul blinked, making a big face, and pointed to his large belt buckle and then the man’s smaller one.  “We…”

“Well.”  Richard laughed, taking it all in, and half shrugged to John Paul.  “So much for your sterling reputation, hon.”

“I am from a group called the Straight Path.”  Jerry held up the second brochure higher to John Paul but turned to Richard.  “Perhaps that’s where your friend has seen me.”  He nodded with the hint of a shrug.  “I would be happy to talk to you about any problems you might have.  We have a program that…”

“You’re kidding me?”  John Paul stepped back, hearing Richard chuckle more, and gave Jerry another, longer look.  “Three years ago we met at the Starbucks on Connecticut Avenue, just north of Mass Ave.  I had on a teal shirt and black jeans.”  He looked him up and down.  “You were kind of dressed like that.”  He pointed to the pants and shirt.  “We had iced coffees, talked about the law, and then went back to…”

“Where do you all get off advocating a cure for homosexuality?”  Richard frowned with narrowing eyes, ignoring the second brochure, and threw the first on the ground with all the others.  “Outside of the gay rodeo?  And outside of Washing…”

“Our program of guidance is very successful.”  Jerry looked down at the dozens of discarded black and white brochures at his feet, waving them all aside, and then looked up at Richard with a tighter smile and a curt nod.  “We’ve turned around over one hund…”

“Do you think that the people here are going to buy what you’re selling?”  Richard stepped on the first brochure with a loud pop of his thick soled black boot, stomping it further into the ground with the twist of his foot, and stepped all the way forward to get right into Jerry’s very personal space.  “Look at the crowd in there.”  He pointed a hand back to the rodeo and then a common hand gesture at Jerry.  “I’ve never seen a queerer group in my life.”  He shook his head as his features tightened and raised both hands high above his head.  “And that includes last year’s vacation in San Francisco.”

“Look.”  Jerry held his ground, glancing back toward the fairgrounds, before looking him right in the eye with a bigger smile.  “You don’t have to…”

“Is that how you got back into the closet?”  John Paul stepped forward too and plucked the second brochure out of Jerry’s hand, opening it for a cursory look, and then stepped right in between the two men.  He looked right at Jerry but put a restraining hand gently on Richard’s chest and over his heart.  “With some kind of nonsen…?”

“We have a strong program that allows people to talk about their urges and convert them into something purer.”  Jerry nodded, turning away from Richard to now look right into John Paul’s eyes, and kept up his tight smile.  “Something better…”

“You definitely sang out your urges.”  John Paul nodded back, dropping the second brochure with the dozens of others, and laughed again, right in his face.  “I remember you asking for more… more… more.”

“Okay.”  Jerry swallowed again, frowning now, but kept his eyes straight and level on John Paul’s.  “But we help people focus on their doubts, remind them of what’s right and wrong and help guide them back toward the straight path.”

“The straight path?”  John Paul gave Jerry a long look as he took a step back from him and Richard.  “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”  Jerry shook his head, half shrugging, and then nodded.  “I’m just trying to help…”

“Doesn’t genetics have something to do with being gay?”  Richard eyed Jerry from behind John Paul and then tapped him on the shoulder.  “Didn’t we read about that in the Economist like ten years ago?”

“Twenty and it was People, but yes, it said we were out of luck.”  John Paul glanced over his shoulder and nodded to Richard and then turned back and smirked at Jerry.  “You should check out the article, Jer, or you know a million others, not to mention some sense that’s become common here in the 21^st century.”

“The Straight Path has helped dozens of people overcome their baser urges and live productive lives.”  Jerry raised a hand and then wagged a finger at both John Paul and Richard with one hand and pulled out another brochure with his other.  He flipped to a list on the back page and nodded big again.  “Where…”

“Productive lives?”  Richard scoffed, ignoring the brochure, and wagged a finger back at Jerry.  “Please.”  He took one step forward and around John Paul and a second to get within reach of Jerry.  “I work for the FBI and volunteer twice a month at a homeless shelter.”  His face tightened again, towering over Jerry with a deepening frown, and then stood up even straighter.  “How productive do you want me to be?” 

“Did I cross the line with the cherries, Jer?”  John Paul stepped closer too, grinning big at Jerry’s suddenly tightening and downcast expression, and reached out to give him a poke in in the ribs.  “Too much.”

“We’d be glad to help you.”  Jerry flinched at the poke and took another step back, not looking at either man now, but pointed beyond them to the rodeo.  “Homosexuality doesn’t have to be a lifestyle…”

“This is one of your many conquests before you settled down?” Richard gave Jerry a long once over then, taking another step closer to him, and shook his head with a laugh.  “Baby, I am not impressed with this one.”  He looked him in the eye.  “Not at all.”

“That was a long time ago.”  Jerry stepped back yet again from both of them, turning to his shoes for a second, but then looked up and met Richard’s eyes.  He frowned big and raised one finger to him.  “And I only crossed the line once.”  He breathed.  “Just once.”

John Paul sighed at it all, watching Jerry’s face somehow sink even further, and threw up a hand with a frown of his own.  “Well, I’m glad to see you at least remember me.”

“Unbelievable.”  Richard laughed at John Paul’s twisted expression and shook his head at Jerry’s downcast one.  “You really…?”

“Look at him.”  John Paul pointed to Jerry.  “He’s about to cr…”

“Does that mean you would like more information?”  Jerry looked at his shoes again, bringing his remaining brochures closer to his chest, and nodded big.  “Our program has a very high success rate.”

“Yes, I can see how you attract people.”  Richard rolled his eyes and shook his head at the man, pointing to the many brochures all over the ground, and turned to Puck who was smiling at the woman with her own brochures just several feet away.  “Subtle as a brick in the head.”

“Hi,” Puck said two and half minutes ago, having approached the skinny but curvy and athletic blond with half a smile and a wave.  “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” the woman said, quietly, looking back into his blue eyes, and smiled back with her own wave.  She held up her smaller stack of black and white brochures.  “I’m having a hard time handing out this material.”  She nodded to the blue skies and bright sunshine.  “But it’s a beautiful day and there’s a lot of interesting stuff to see.”

A large, stern faced and broad shouldered man with a tight chest and large arms walked by them in leather chaps, a tight thong and a large vest with multiple piercings and tattoos as he headed to the main gate.

“Yeah.”  Puck pointed to the man, making a face twisted up and to the left, and then smiled big at her.  “I see what you mean.”

“Yeah.”  The woman kept staring, her eyes getting bigger as she laughed a little.  “It sure is something.”

“You’ve got to wonder where a guy like that works, eh.”  Puck shook his head after the man walked by, grinning big in her direction, and then shared a look and a smile with her.  “I mean I don’t see him as the 9-5 office type, you know?”  He laughed, and she joined him.  “At least not in any office I’ve ever worked at.”

“Me either.”  The woman nodded big, turning back to stare at the man for a second, and then looked back at Puck with her own grin.  “Or any office I’ve heard of.”

“Right.”  Puck nodded more and then shrugged.  “You know there were a lot of guys and even a few women dressed like that inside.”  He pointed to the fairgrounds but kept his eyes on the woman.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many tight jeans, cowboy hats and giant belt buckles in my life.”  He shook his head and laughed.  “Not even on TV.”

“The whole thing seems pretty goofy.”  The woman smiled more and turned to look at all of the activities in the fairgrounds, noticing the giant poster of a cowboy, cowgirl and drag queen dragging a bull, and shook her head.  “A gay rodeo?”  She laughed at it all, turning back to Puck, and shrugged big.  “It sounds about as likely as a supermodel barbecue.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.”  Puck’s face straightened out taking her in, and he looked right into her eyes before pointing back to the big tent.  “But the guy selling wine told me that somebody got killed by an angry bull last year.”

“What?”  The woman’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.  “You’re kidding me?”

“No, bulls are pretty big.”  Puck nodded and half swallowed, staring at all of her tight and symmetrical curves now, and then shook his head.  “Huge actually, and I wouldn’t want to be in the corral with one of them, much less in drag and expect to sit on top of one too.”

“Yes.”  The woman looked back at him and nodded too.  “I can see why.” 

“Yeah.”  Puck swallowed all the way, gulping big as she stood smiling in front of him, and pointed to all of her brochures laying on the ground at her feet and on the path leading to the rodeo.  “So.”  He straightened himself out.  “What do you do for fun other than hang out at the county fairgrounds?”

“Fun?”  The woman said, ignoring the falling brochures at her feet and almost dropping more, and then looked right back at Puck.  “No one’s asked me what I do for fun since I moved to Washington.”  She took him in for a longer moment, smiling big, and shrugged mostly to herself.  “All I ever talk about is work or politics.” 

“I bet.”  Puck smiled big back, shrugging too, and winked at her.  “But what do you like to do?”  He gave her another nod.  “You know, for fun?”

The woman looked past him, blinking a few times, and nodded again.  “I like softball.”  She smiled, half laughing to herself, and turned back to look him right in the eye.  “I used to be on a team in college, second base.”

“Cool.”  Puck let out a laugh and pointed a finger south.  “I’m on a team that plays down on the Mall.” 

“Really?”  The woman looked where he was pointing and took a half step toward Puck.

“Yeah.”  Puck smiled some more at how close she was.  “You should stop by and throw the ball around a little.”  He shrugged, keeping up the smile.  “Have a little fun, you know?”

“That’s sounds cool.”  The woman took another step toward him, getting into his personal space now, and she beamed right at him.  “I mean it, seriously.”

“Okay.  Great.”  Puck breathed, beaming back at her with googly eyes, and then caught John Paul and Richard staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and shrugged.  “I’m sorry, I’ve got to head out now, but if it’s not too weird or uncomfortable let me get your number and I’ll call you the next time we play, okay?”  He fumbled for his wallet.  “And just to be safe, you can have my card too.”

“Okay.”  The woman reached into her purse with her free hand and pulled out her own business card.  “Here you go.”

“Great.”  Puck scribbled another phone number on the back of his business card.  “I’m not always in the office, so let me give you my cell too.”  He blushed a little with another shrug.   “If you’re interested that is.”

“That sounds good.”  The woman smiled big, beaming more, and pointed to her business card.  “My cell is on my card.”

“Cool,” they both said, looking past one another, but kept smiling, and then turned to each other again.  “So?”

“Puck, we’re heading home,” John Paul said and waved him over.  “Now cowboy.”

“Yeah, giddy up, kid,” Richard said, giving him a big wink, and beckoned him forward with a bigger wave.  “Let’s ride.”

“I’ve got to go.”  Puck turned around with almost a frown, waving back to John Paul and Richard, but looked back again at the woman with a rediscovered smile and the hint of reddening cheeks.  “They’re my ride, but let’s get in touch.”

“I look forward to it,” the woman said, watching Puck catch up with John Paul and Richard, and smiled big yet again. 

Jerry frowned and stared narrowed eyed at them as he walked over to her.  “Any luck?”

The woman held up Puck’s business card, still smiling big, and half shrugged.  “He gave me his number.”

“And you think you can straighten him out?”  Jerry watched Puck, Richard and John Paul walk away and his face tightened.  “Like bring him over to the right side?”

“I think so.”  The woman gave Puck a long look and shrugged.  “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right?

Puck saw her look and waved.

She waved back but lost half her smile.

“That guy’s going to get his butt kicked if he keeps spouting that kind of garbage.”  Richard noticed the shared look and wave, turning to John Paul, and jabbed a finger at Jerry.  “Particularly if he does that in DuPont or nearby.”

“You’re right.”  John Paul sighed.  “But you find people like that wherever you go.”  He threw up a hand.  “You know that.”

“Still.”  Richard shook his head and made a fist.  “A butt kicking.”

“Helen seemed really nice.”  Puck stepped in between them and held up the business card with her name on it, showing it off to both of them, and didn’t even try to contain his huge smile and now blushing cheeks.

“No duh.”  Richard glanced back at Jerry and Helen, taking in her long blond hair, skinny curves, athletic figure and still noticeable smile.  “Even John and I see that.”

“No, really.”  Puck nodded big, beaming again, and turned back to her.  “She was very friendly.”

“I’m sure.”  Richard noticed Puck’s expression and gave him a nudge.  “So, you asked her out then?”

“No.”  Puck half frowned and held up the card again.  “But she gave me her number, so…”

“Excellent.”  John Paul rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Richard, and patted his brother on the back.  “There just might be hope for you after all.”

“After all?” Puck said and elbowed his brother with a grin.  “I thought there already was.”

“There is,” John Paul said, putting his arm all the way around Puck, and both he and Richard laughed.  “Or we wouldn’t have let you come to the rodeo with us, right, cowboy.”

“Sure.”  Puck smiled big at his brother and Richard and then shook his head.  “Whatever.”

Post Game Report

“No, a gay rodeo doesn’t involve bare naked asses and hard, leather riding crops, none that I saw at least.”  Puck pulled out the torn paper ticket stub from his brand new, black leather wallet, holding it up for anyone to see, and looked back at a young Black man with narrow black eyes and a young Latina woman rolling her large, dark brown ones.  “It’s an actual, old fashioned rodeo, with horses, bulls and…”

“No sheep?  Or lambs?” the young man said, taking a large sip of cold beer, but looked right at Puck and then squinted more at the ticket.  “Are you sure?”

“No sheep, Milo.  Or lambs unless you count the gyros.”  Puck made a face at him and turned to the rest of the tiny bar around them, taking in the few other professionally dressed twenty something patrons ignoring them, feeling the stickiness beneath his feet and catching a whiff of at least day-old beer before looking back at Milo.  “Otherwise, it’s bestiality, you know?” 

“I bet there were a lot of cowboy hats and boots, though,” the young woman with the rolling eyes said and let out a chuckle, throwing her hands in the air, and pointed to the conservatively dressed twenty somethings and beyond.  “Like the exact opposite of DC.”

“Yeah, Grace.”  Puck shook his head again, chuckling too, and gave her a longer look with half a nod.  “And tight jeans like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Jordache?” Milo said, pointing to a tight jeaned twenty something man with a shirt and tie now giving them the eye.  “Or…”

“Not that bad.”  Puck half waved to the man, getting a nod back, and adjusted his worn hockey baseball cap.  “I stood out, though, in shorts and steel toes with my Oilers cap.”

“Of course, you did.”  Milo gave the almost ratty cap a look for just a second, but then focused.  “And how did JP and Richard look?" 

“I don’t know, Milo.”  Puck shrugged big, pointing to two tall men in suits near the back talking to three guys in gym clothes.  “Like they always do; stylishly guppie.”

“What a stupid question,” Grace said between the two of them and punched Milo hard in the arm.  “What did you think they’d do, dress up like, Clint Eastwood or John Wayne?”

“Hey, it’s a legitimate question.”  Milo made a face at her for a second, rubbing his arm where she punched him, and then looked back at the ticket still in Puck’s hand.  “I still can’t believe there’s actually a gay rodeo.”

“You’d be surprised, Milo.”  Puck nodded and waved his beer in the air to the city and world beyond them.  “It goes to all the big cities; Chicago, Cleveland, New York…”

“San Francisco?”  Milo raised a finger, ignoring the twenty something’s continuing look, and started to pull out his phone.  “Right?”

“Yeah, San Francisco.”  Puck took a sip of beer, enjoying it, and nodded more.  “I think that’s where it started.”

“I kind of figured.”  Milo sipped his own beer, repocketing his phone, and shook his head, ‘no,’ at the twenty something.  “I mean, where else would…”

“It’s funny,” Grace said, noticing the unspoken conversation with the twenty something, and let out a quick laugh.  “I don’t think of rodeos being anywhere except Texas and the sticks, but I bet it just tours the big cities.”  

“Makes sense since Puck just said it too.”  Milo shook his head at her with a look and turned back to Puck with a nod.  “I’d pay to see a cow.”  He grinned big and half shrugged.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

“You’re an idiot.”  Grace sipped at her beer without even looking back at Milo but raised a finger.  “You’ve lived in the Washington area your whole life and you wouldn’t know a cow from a horse if they both bit you on the ass.”

“And you would, Brooklyn girl?”  Milo looked right at her, raising his own finger, and laughed.  “Although maybe you saw them on those Christmases to Puerto Rico.”

“Hey, at least I know what hamburgers are made out of.”  Grace turned right to him, half frowning, and with a second finger raised.  “And…”

“I knew that.”  Milo nodded with a face and pointed his finger right back at her.  “It’s cows.”

“Thrilled to see that college degree paid off.”  Grace sighed, ignoring Milo and his finger, and turned to Puck.  “And…”

“Glad to see you guys had so much fun when I was at the rodeo.”  Puck stared at the two of them, noting the several empty bottles and the two plates of the remains of spinach dip and chicken bones in between them, and pointed to the sunny weather outside of the bar.  “You know it’s nice out, not too hot.”

“Don’t get me started.”  Grace took another, larger sip of beer, keeping her eyes on Puck, but pointed her thumb back to Milo.  “I asked him if…”

“How can this rodeo support itself?”  Milo looked at the ticket stub now sitting on the table next to Puck’s wallet and picked it up to find the price of admission with wider eyes.  “I mean it’s not cheap, but I’d never heard of it before you mentioned it yesterday.”

“A lot of people were there,” Puck said, nodding at the few people in the bar, and then pointed to a crowded coffee house across the street.  “Like a lot.”

“Probably scouting booty.”  Milo smiled and pointed to the twenty somethings near them and across the street.  “But with a particular focus, you know.”

“Yeah, obviously.”  Puck took another sip of his beer, swallowing slowly, and put on a lopsided smile with a big nod.  “There was definitely a lot of that.”

“Somebody give you the queer eye?”  Grace leaned forward, giving him a nudge, and let go of a wink.  “Tell you, you look pretty?”

“I got more than that.”  Puck put down his glass, shrugging to both of them, and then leaned back on his stool.  “I think this guy wanted me to bend over.”  He grinned and gave a thumb’s up.  “And then cough.”

“Awesome.”  Milo stared for a second and laughed out loud.  “I’m not surprised you’re so popular.”

“Yeah.”  Puck gave him a look, laughing too, and then turned to Grace.  “I didn’t realize guys were that forward.”

“Oh yeah, it’s charming.”  Grace scoffed, loudly, taking another large sip of beer, and held up her hand in between her and the man in the shirt and tie now staring right at her on the other side of the bar.  “I can’t get enough of it.”

“Yeah.”  Puck shook his head at the lone man and frowned.  “I wasn’t too thrilled.”

“Wow.  That’s great.”  Milo rolled his eyes, handing back the ticket stub, and eyed the lone man too.  “But even if a lot of people show up, it seems like you’d need a huge crowd to support a traveling rodeo, and I doubt that the Montgomery Fair Grounds have enough room to bring in the dollars they’d need.”

“What can I tell you?”  Puck shrugged, putting the ticket in his wallet, and pocketed all of it.  “It exists and it’s real.”

“And it’s not just the numbers attending either, Milo.”  Grace rubbed her fingers together and watched the lone man turn away from her and start to leave the bar.  “It’s also the money they spend.”  She turned back to Milo and Puck with a shrug.  “Most gay men have a butt load of cash.”

“Butt load?”  Milo smirked, looking back, and nodded right to her.  “What exactly are you trying to say there, Grace?”

“That you’re a moron.”  She took her time swallowing another longer sip of beer, put down the glass and leaned in closer to him with another raised finger.  “And that the gay community has a lot of disposable income to spend on frivolous stuff like doofy rodeos.”

“Whatever.  I had fun.”  Puck smiled, ignoring them both, and drank more.  “It was actually a great time, and not just because I got to hang out with John Paul and Richard.”

“It’s the whole double income no kids syndrome,” Grace said, her eyes back on Milo and raised a second finger.  “They don’t have to worry about paying for little Johnny’s education, so they get to live the high life their whole life.”

“That’s cute, but you might be right.”  Milo leaned back in his chair, giving her a thumb’s up, and half nodded to Puck.  “John Paul and Richard do have one nice house.”

“They’re both lawyers,” Puck said, giving Milo a look, and shrugged.  “What did you expect?”

“Why don’t you guys have a nicer place?”  Grace turned from Milo to Puck and made a face.  “You live like you’re still in college or just out of it and still looking for used furniture on people’s curbs.”

“So, you’ve said more than once.”  Milo breathed and looked right at Grace.  “But what do you expect?”  He gestured to himself and then Puck.  “We’re not gay and Puck does public assistance work.”

“It’s a non-profit organization that focuses on education, Milo.”  Puck turned from Grace to him.  “And Grace has a point.”

“Yeah, big surprise that you’d side with her.”  Milo laughed, taking them in just inches from each other, and drank more.  “Huge surprise…”

“Shut up.”  Puck’s eyes narrowed on him, and he started to almost blush.  “We’ve…”

“Great comeback.”  Milo finished his beer, sighing, and shook his head.  “Very impressive.”

“Your apartment could look a lot better.”  Grace nodded with a shrug.  “Still…”

“She’s right,” Puck said, nodding too, and nudged Milo in the shoulder.  “A coat of paint and a trip to IK…”

“Great, okay.  Whatever you want.”  Milo put down his glass, getting the bartender’s attention for another round of beers, and turned back to Puck.  “So.”  He grinned.  “Who was this woman that you talked to then?”

Grace turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Helen.”  Puck nodded with half a smile at both of them and held up his glass to Milo.  “Wondered when you’d get back to that.”

“Yeah, Helen.”  Milo nodded back and leaned forward.  “And was she gay too?”  He made a face but shook his head.  “Since it doesn’t sound like a lot of heterosexuals would attend or even be welcome at something called the gay rodeo.”  He grinned and pointed a finger right at Puck.  “Or was she like you, another straight trying to get into the cool lifestyle?”

“Hey, I just wanted to hang out with my brother.”  Puck shook his head at Milo, drinking more, and threw up his hand.  “Family, you know?”

“Great, wonderful.”  Milo ignored the hand, keeping his eyes on Puck’s and nodded for more.  “But everybody wants to know if Helen was gay or not?”

“I don’t think so.”  Puck looked right back and shook his head too.  “She didn’t look it.”

“That means she wasn’t ugly?”  Milo turned to Grace, giving her a tight look and a curt nod, and put his hand on her shoulder.  “Because you know when I was younger…”

“Like last week?”  Grace sighed, turning to his hand and took in a breath.  “Or today?”

“No, like last year.”  Milo frowned, letting her go, but stuck out his tongue at her.  “I used to think that all lesbians were all hot and…”

“A la your lesbian porn collection?”  Grace nodded, giving him a tight look and curt nod, and put her hand on his shoulder.  “Right?”

“Yeah, Grace, a la my lesbian porn collection.”  Milo rolled his eyes and nodded back before looking at her hand on his shoulder and smiled too.  “You done now?”

“We’ll see.”  She laughed, taking back her hand, and picked up her nearly empty beer.  “Probably not.”

“Okay.  Thanks,” Milo said, making a face, and looked past her.  “Pipe in when you have something else to say.”

“I will.”  Grace smiled, shooting him with a finger gun, and drank.  “Of course.”

“Anyway,” Milo sighed, loudly, and turned back to Puck.  “I was under the impression that all lesbians are hot, and then I left home and found out they’re not.”

“Yeah, me too.”  Puck nodded big, finishing his beer, and sighed loudly too.  “All of those teenage fantasies down the tubes.”

“It was disappointing.”  Milo shook his head and pretended to catch his breath.  “I mean not like torture or anything, but…”

“Poor babies.” Grace put on a frown, giving them both a long look, and nodded big.  “Your sense of self and the world must have been shattered.”

“Nearly.”  Milo nodded back and gave her a look.  “It was very close.”

“But Helen is hot.”  Puck looked at both of them, nodding too, and let out a half a laugh.  “She’s a real babe.” 

“Thank God.”  Grace wiped off her forehead and sighed big.  “I was worried.”

“She’s not gay then,” Milo said, taking in Puck’s now firm nod, and waved again to the busy bartender for more beers.  “Or at least probably not.”

“I’m glad you settled that.”  Grace shrugged off Milo and turned right to Puck.  “So, are you going to ask her out?”

“I don’t know.”  Puck made a face, looking back at her, and shrugged.  “I didn’t think of it then, and John Paul and Richard gave me a hard time about it on the way home.”  He turned to look at his shoes for a second but then looked back up and grinned.  “We exchanged business cards, though.”

“You’re kidding me?”  Milo turned and his mouth fell open.  “You’re at a gay rodeo where everybody and their mother are scouting for a same sex encounter, you meet a beautiful and likely straight woman who talks to you out of the blue, and you don’t think to ask her out?”

“Um.”  Puck shrugged again.  “John Paul and Richard wanted to leave before I got the chance, and…”

“You can’t find a likable woman in girl-rich Washington, and then you meet one at the gay rodeo just outside of it and you forget to ask her out?”  Grace looked right at him with a twisted smile and then facepalmed.  “Come on, Puck.”  She shook her head big at him.  “I thought you could at least do better than that.”

“Hey.  Give him a break,” Milo said, holding up a hand, and turned right to Grace.  “When is the last time you went out with anybody?”

“I just got off of a four-month relationship.”  She said with a look and narrowing eyes.  “Remember?”

“Yeah, two months ago.”  Milo looked back and threw up both of his hands.  “And…”

“Yes, two months ago.”  Grace started to frown.  “And the guy was a huge jerk.”

“Yeah,” Puck said in between them and half shrugged.  “You’d think you’d want to go out with someone nice after that.”

Milo side eyed him but nodded to Grace.

“I would, but I need a little more time.”  She looked past both of them, taking in a breath, and frowned.  “Michael was…”

“… a lying, cheating, sleazebag who I told you to dump after you’d been with him for two days,” Milo said, raising a finger high in the air, and then wagged it.  “He treated you like crap and then took one on you, figuratively at least.”

“Thank you for reminding me.”  Grace turned all the way to him with a giant frown.  “I was trying to forget in case you don’t remember.”

Milo shrugged at her and frowned at his empty beer.

“So much for nice guys working for liberal causes,” Puck said, noticing his empty glass too, and now looked for the bartender himself.  “Guess the political doesn’t match the personal.”

“Yeah, Grace.  He could care for the environment and the poor in Africa, but he couldn’t show you the time of day,” Milo said with big eyes and shook his head back and forth, twice, before raising another finger.  “And you said he was selfish in the sack.”

“I remember.”  Grace pushed down the finger, turning away from both of them, and looked for the bartender too.  “Because I just said that.”

“And you.”  Milo turned to Puck.  “You need to get back on the horse.”  He nudged him in the shoulder and nodded big, three times.  “Like yesterday.”  

“Right.  Whatever.”  Puck laughed, waving him away, and turned to look right at Grace.  “But more importantly, you need to find a cool guy.”

“Easier said than done.”  Grace looked back at Puck and then at both of them with half a frown and a shrug.  “Washington isn’t teeming with crowds of straight, good-looking men who aren’t already married or willing to exploit interns.  And there’s no way I’m going for some fifty-year-old who is so secure with himself and his penis that he’s hitting on women who could be his daughters.”

“You might want to broaden your social circle then and definitely stop hanging out in DuPont Circle.”  Milo took his new beer from the bartender and pointed to the good-looking men talking mostly to each other.  “And hanging with your aunt isn’t exactly a turn on, at least not one I’d think most men are into.”

“You’re going to give me advice about dating?”  Grace laughed, turning right to him, and shook her head.  “You?  Milo Joseph Ellison?”

“Wasn’t Michael like in his forties?” Puck said, making a face, and took another beer.

“He was in his thirties.”  Grace frowned and threw up a hand.  “Thirty-four.”

“Oh right,” Milo said, snorting, and shook his head.  “The thirtysomethings are so much cooler.

“I think we’ve established that you’re the last person who should be giving dating advice, Milo.”  Grace looked right at him, picking up her new beer, but just held onto it.  “You’ve got such a collection of dating neuroses that you should be somebody’s psychology thesis.”

Milo looked away, shrugging at both of them, and took a sip of beer.

“How is Mary anyway?”  Puck swallowed his first sip and looked right at him.  “And when is she due again?”

“Everything is fine.  Just fine.”  Milo put down his beer, chuckling to himself, and looked down at his shoes before letting out a smile.  “Mary got a sonogram this Friday, and the baby is healthy and looking good at seven months.”

“Did you go with her again?” Grace said, giving him a nudge in the shoulder.  “Make an aw…”

“Of course I went.”  Milo turned to her with a face but smiled more.  “That’s what real men do.”

“Yeah, but you don’t think it’s strange you’ve only dated pregnant women since college?”  Grace made her own face, taking a large sip, and raised a finger at him.  “You know, because…”

“Because?”  Milo threw up a hand, looking away from both of them again, and shrugged.  “Because what?”

“Because they’re already knocked up when you meet them.”  Grace put the beer down, looking right at Milo, and leaned forward.  “You know before the two of you get the chance to meet, much less connect and…”

“We’re not putting labels on it, Grace.”  Milo almost met her eye, drinking his own beer, and leaned back.  “Okay?  So…”

“So, 99% of men avoid dating pregnant women and you’re like the only single guy who wants to.”  Grace nodded, looking right at him, and drank more.  “You’d think it would crimp your style if you had one.”

“Mary and I do everything that every other couple does,” Milo said, a large smile spreading over his face, and looked again right at Grace.  “That’s one of the better parts of our relationship, actually.”  He chuckled, mostly to himself, and nodded big.  “She’s a freaking dynamo in the sack.”

“Great.”  Grace half frowned, closing her eyes, and drank a lot more beer.  “Thank you for that image.” 

“Just like Ruth and Sara, huh?”  Puck leaned forward too, taking a sip of his own beer, and laughed.  “I wouldn’t have imagined.”

“What can I tell you?”  Milo smiled, winking at Puck, and raised his hands high with two thumbs up.  “The thousands of mothers to be can’t seem to get enough action.”

“You’re a real charmer, Milo.”  Grace looked back at him with a face and shook her head.  “I can see how you can’t have a normal relationship.”  She almost drank more, stopping herself, and looked him in the eye.  “Does Mary know about the other pregnant women you’ve dated?”

“Hey, I helped them through their pregnancies.”  Milo raised a finger, but lowered it quickly, and looked down at his shoes again.  “And…”

“You haven’t told Mary about the others, have you?”  Puck sighed and shook his head.  “Really?”

Milo turned to Puck, losing his smile, and then looked away again.

“Oh man.”  Puck stared and shook his head.  “I thought you said you were going to last night.”

“No, not yet.”  Milo peeked up at both of them and shrugged.  “It’s complicated.”

“So, when?” Grace straightened up, her eyes narrowing, and punched him again, harder.  “Seriously.”

“I’m building up to it.”  Milo grimaced at the punch, shrugging more, and rubbed his arm.  “And you know I’m not actually doing anything wrong.”

“You’re being a giant jerk, Milo, at the very least.”  Grace put down her beer and almost stood up.  “And…”

“No.”  He leaned back, his eyes getting wide on her, and raised his hands in surrender.  “I’m just…”

“Okay.”  Puck did stand up then, raising his hands high in between them, and put down his beer on the bar right in front of all of them.  “You think you guys can resolve this before I get back from the restroom?”

They both looked up at him with sinking faces and then both shrugged.

“Sorry,” Grace said and swallowed.  “I…”

“Me too.”  Milo nodded, swallowing too, and shared a quick look with Grace.  “We didn’t…”

“Good.”  Puck shook his head at both of them, stepping away from them with a raised finger, and headed for the restrooms on the far side of the bar.  “You’ve got a minute to fix that.”

Grace watched him go with a frown and then turned right to Milo with a look.  “Real nice.”

“You’re the one who started the conversation,” Milo said, keeping his eyes on Puck.  “And…”

“This conversation’s been going on for two months, Milo.”  Grace side eyed him.  “And started three years ago when you first started dating that woman you met at the OB…”

“Don’t.”  Milo raised a hand in between them and almost met her eye.  “I know and…”

“Is Mary still in touch with the father?”  Grace shifted in her seat.  “Do you even…”

“What business is it of yours?”  Milo said with a look.  “Huh?”

“You don’t know, do you?”  Grace turned away, laughing, and threw up a hand at him.  “You’ve been dating her for the last three months and you haven’t even figured that out yet.”

“She says it was divine intervention.”  Milo took a big swig from his beer, looking past her again, and shrugged.  “I’m not going to argue with that.”

“Are you kidding me?”  Grace made a face, picking up her beer again, and shook her head.  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve...”

“What?”  Milo swallowed and turned to her again.  “That Mary actually claims it was an immaculate conception?”

“Yeah, exactly.”  Grace laughed.  “Although I’m guessing that God doesn’t have a lot to do with the failure of birth control.” 

“Real nice, Grace.”  Milo took another swig and frowned.  “And thanks for caring.”

“You’re welcome.”  Grace frowned back, still eyeing him, and drank more beer.  “Just trying to keep you on the straight and narrow, Milo.”

“Speaking of which.”  Milo pointed back to the men’s room and started to grin.  “Why don’t you ask out Puck?” 

“Excuse me?”  Grace’s face expanded at his words, then scrunched up at his silence, and she just held onto her beer.  “Puck?”

“You heard me.”  Milo nodded, grinning more, and looked her right in the eye.  “He’d be good for you.”  He nodded big.  “He has a thing for Latinas, he’s always saying nice things about you, and in case you haven’t noticed, he can’t take his eyes off of you.”

“I think you’re confusing me for my breasts.”  Grace rolled her eyes and adjusted her bra with a flourish.  “A lot of guys have that problem.”  She shook her head.  “Including you.”

“Sure, but I’m serious.”  Milo looked at her breasts.  “He…”

“It’s a nice idea, Milo, but no.”  Grace crossed her arms over her chest and sighed.  “Puck’s too much of a goof.  I mean, come on, he goes by Puck.”

“It beats Calvin,” Milo said, sighing too, and pushed the dreads out of his face.  “Thankfully.”

“No.”  Grace looked past him with half a shrug and shook her head.  “Look, he’s a good friend, and I love the guy.”  She took a sip of beer and made a face.  “But that’s it.”

“He’s in good shape, listens to you and treats you with respect.  Unlike that idiot, Michael.”  Milo stared at her for a second before glancing toward the men’s room with a shrug and grinned again.  “Plus, he’s got a big tongue.”

“I agree he’s a good guy.”  Grace hid behind a longer sip of beer and almost looked at him again.  “But I don’t think things would work out between us.

“Why not?”  Milo leaned forward and kept trying to meet her eye.  “He hits all the marks, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know, Milo.”  Grace looked right back at him then, frowning, and took another sip.  “We’ve been friends for too long, and all of the good stuff that you mentioned, and I like about him as a friend, could fade away once we slept together.”

“That’s a bunch of crap, Grace.”  Milo sat back, staring at her, and drank more.  “And you know it.”

She turned away and drank more too.

“You know he’s a great guy and that he’d treat you well.”  Milo found her eyes again.  “What is your probl…?”

“Look.”  Grace sat up straighter, raising a finger, and shook her head.  “I just don’t think it’d work.”

“What?”  Milo laughed and threw up his hands again.  “Because he’s got a boyish charm?”

“Yes, Milo.”  Grace closed her eyes for a second but then looked right at him again.  “I don’t think we’re on the same page maturity-wise.”

“You could say that about almost any guy in Washington, Grace.”  Milo laughed more, shaking his head at all of the men in the bar, and then pointed to himself.  “Even I know that.”

“Milo, I just got off an at least a semi-serious relationship, okay?”  Grace just stared at him.  “If anything, I’m looking for a rebound thing.”  She shook her head.  “I’ll probably just get a few rolls in the hay with whomever I see next and dump the person on the curb like a wet sack of trash when I’m done.”  She took in a deep breath.  “I couldn’t do that to Puck.”

“Meaning you like him.”  Milo took another sip and flashed another grin.  “Like, like, like him.

“Are you thirteen?”  She let out a deep breath and kept staring at him.  “What I’m saying is that I like him enough not to risk that.”

“You don’t think you might be able to avoid that with him.”  Milo nodded.  “You know, because you’ve actually given it some thought?”

“I don’t know,” Grace’s face straightened out noticing Puck come out of the restroom now and put down her beer.  “But I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.  Okay?”

“Okay.”  Milo saw Puck too and sighed.  “Fine.”

“What did I miss?”  Puck sat down, giving them both a nod, and took a sip of beer.  “Anything exciting?”

“We’ll see.”  Milo said with a look at Grace and a shrug.  “But I’m not hopeful.”

“Huh?”  Puck raised an eyebrow, and Grace shook her head.

“You going to call Helen?”  Milo took them both in, shaking his head big, and clinked his beer against Puck’s with a big nod.  “Take advantage of that card?”

“I don’t know.”  He turned right to Grace and reached for the business card in his pocket.  “Should I?”

“Buddy.”  Milo got back his attention with a big wave and nodded even more.  “That card isn’t doing any good in your wallet.”

“Yeah.”  Grace swallowed, frowning at Milo, and turned back to Puck with her own nod.  “You should call her.”

“Um.”  Puck looked at Grace again and then at Helen’s card.  “You guys ever hear of the ‘Conservative Caucus’?”

“Yeah.”  Grace took the card, staring at it, and made a face.  “But I’m not sure if they’re trying to get the government into or out of the bedroom.  Why?”

“That’s where Helen works.”  Puck thew up a hand and took another sip.  “Not that it matters.”

“I guess.”  Grace handed back the card with a shrug.  “That’s DC, right?”

“Whatever.”  Milo looked at the card too.  “Maybe she just needed to get her foot in the door of the Washington game.”  He held out the card to Puck.  “Everybody’s got to start somewhere.”

“Whatever.”  Puck took back the card.  “I’ll give her a call when I get home.”

“Fair enough.”  Milo dropped a lot of money on the bar and started to get up.  “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

“Okay.”  Puck stood up too.

“Right.”  Grace finished her beer quickly, frowning at the still goofy looks from the few straight guys around them, and followed Puck and Milo out the door.  “Good idea.”

***

Of course the drama, silliness and humor continue.

Read how Puck and Helen discover the truth, Milo and Grace learn what's important in relationships and John Paul and Richard chip away at Jerry's hypocrisy.

Just email Joe at joe@joestories.com and he will get the rest of The Adventures Of The Straight Dope to you ASAP.