The  week after I met Greg dragged by at work. Nothing bad but nothing exciting or challenging, leaving me plenty of time to replay what Greg said, and what he may have implied, or not.   Am I so lonely and horny I read a lot into a cute bagboy's help?  Well, I'll find out on Friday.  I force myself to stay away from there Wednesday and Thursday nights.  Instead, I get a good workout at the Y both nights. A mile in 39 minutes, each night.  Not bad, considering that my first mile six months ago was 57 minutes! That young coach sure helped my stroke, kick and breathing a lot,  but his main help was teaching me how to do a flip turn.  No one ever explained it so clearly or gave me corrections and encouragement like he did.  Just a nice guy who helps everyone.

{Ah, Friday, at last!  Nice clear morning.. Hello, Cobra. I see you rising before I do. Well, I'm not going to give you a morning workout today, just let you soften so I can piss.  Don't know if there'll be a chance for you to be a Spitting Cobra this weekend or not.} I roll out and go drain my friendly snake.   Ahhhh, relief!   I come back into the bedroom for morning setups: stretches, 12 deep knee bends, 12  twists, and do "toe touches" to put my palms flat on the floor for the last 6.  Knees straight, of course.   Now jog in place to get some blood flowing.  A quick shower, breakfast and out the door. Morning traffic not too bad - - half an hour to work.. I'm so glad I didn't go back to the Bay Area after my wife and I split. It's a road block-parking lot from 'Frisco to San Jose from 7 till 9 AM and from 4 to 7 P.  Worst on Monday mornings and Friday afternoons!

Friday finally ends and I head to the Y for a half-mile swim, then a nice sauna and whirlpool. I feel good, clean;  even this short a workout tones and relaxes me. Should I go to Greg's Grocery store now?  No, he said he had to work till they close at ten then clean up. He kind of suggested that we'll have time to talk a little after they close before he sweeps and empties trash.   So, I'm home before I know it -- great to have some hopes of a possible relationship to make the time fly while I drive!   Don't remember any traffic or my turns... guess I was on autopilot.   Got time to read a little SciFi but keep an eye on the clock...  No, not yet....  Almost time....

UP and out the door at 9:30.  Drive to his Thrifty.  I'm kind of excited but I drive slow and easy.  Got to use the stick shift in the Bug, not the one in my shorts!  Park on the dark side of the building.  Again.   Enter about 9:45.   There's Greg! A quick nod and smile from each of us and suddenly my cares and dragging drudgery of the week fade away like morning mist on a hot day. The lights seem brighter, I feel peppy, enthused -- horny!

I grab some canned tuna, mayo, veggies, cereal, milk and bread and get into Greg's line.  He looks up and smiles.  He seeems more enthused than last week, chatting with the two customers in front of me as he bags their groceries.  I hear some of his comments to the lady ahead of me.   He chats in a friendly, witty, casual and polite manner.  Sounds fine!  He's got a good (and handsome) head on his shoulders, and talks without slang or poor grammar -- and not just about sports or the weather.   He seems to work well with the pert blonde cashier, too.   She's efficient but can't get ahead of him.

As she starts scanning my purchases, Greg says, "You were in here before, weren't you, Sir?  Name's Bob, isn't it?"

"Yes, Greg.  I was in a week ago.  Great memory!  How are classes going?"

"Really well, thanks, and I'm not the only one with a good memory," he responds with a small smile and sideways glance.

It seems more personal and intimate than just a conversation in a grocery store.  I look him up and down quickly before responding,

"Well, you impressed me as a guy who has something on the ball, well above the average Joe working in a place like this or a fast-food joint."

The cashier pushes my last item toward Greg and joins our conversation,

"He is definitely above average compared to all the other men and boys who have worked here since I've been here -- seven years.  Greg not only does what he's told and what he's supposed to, he looks for things that need doing and does them!"

I smile and include them both as I say, "Good thing this isn't a Union Shop or you'd be up before the Shop Steward, Greg!"  I switch to a whiny growl that an officious petty Shop Steward might use,  "Slow down, man!  Can't have people working faster than minimum speed if they're in minimum wage jobs!"

They both chuckle and she replies, "We have a hard enough time getting the other guys to do their jobs without a Union to tell them not to do some things or to slow down."

Greg adds, "Unions are good in some industries, but I'll never work for a Union if I can help it.  I want to work where I have some leeway in what to do next, where they let me do it a better way if I can and quit when I'm finished.  This job is hourly work, but Richard, the Night Manager, said that if I get all the things done that need doing then I can leave and he'll log me out at 11:00 P.M.  Oops, Marsha, you weren't supposed to hear that," he said, glancing at her with a grin and raised eyebrow.

"Oh, Greg, who do you think suggested that idea to him?   I watched you closer than he did your first month, since he worked a lot in the stock room, on the loading dock and in his office.   You were always moving, and not just to hide, like some of the other guys!"

Greg and I laugh at that.  His deep, natural laugh lights up his whole face including eye-crinkles, and his nice chest lets it roll out.   His laugh is so infectious that I chuckle.

He tells her, "Thanks, then, Marsha.  I'd rather work to get a job done than just until time is up on the clock.   It lets me get home half an hour early some nights, so I can hit the books before I crash.  Sir, may I help you out to your Bug with these groceries?"

"Yes, Greg, since there's no one else in Marsha's line I guess she can spare you for a few?" I look inquiringly at the cashier.

"Yes, Sir, he's free to go.   I know he'll come back!  A month ago one bagger took a lady's groceries out to her car and we found him in his car, asleep, two hours later!   A former bagger, that is."

Greg chuckles and says, "Wasn't that Joe?  We called him Jo-jo, as you always had to call his name twice to get his attention -- then tell him three times what you wanted him to do.   I wasn't sorry to see him go because I had to go behind him and finish up everything he started."

"Richard knew that, Greg, and so did most of the rest of us   That's why you got a big promotion -- or was it an advancement?"

His grin gradually gets wider until he bursts out in a real booming laugh, "Yes!  Now I am 'The Official Senior Bagboy at Thrifty Foods' with five cents an hour raise!  I'm putting all of it aside to buy my new sports car -- after I pay off my school loans."

The few other shoppers look around as he begins laughing, again,  then laugh with him when they realize he's making fun of himself more than of the store.   I laugh so hard I get tears in my eyes.

"Do you need assistance, Sir ~ ~?"

"Thanks, Greg.  Let me hold onto your shoulder until my eyes clear.  HOoooo, Boy!  I needed that!  Haven't laughed all week."

"I've heard it's good for you.  We all should have at least one good laugh a day," he says as he leads me out to Wolfgang.

He remembers Wolfgang, who is not too hard to spot: the only bright yellow '74 Bug in the lot.  I realize when we get to "Wolfie" that I've kept my hand on his shoulder all the way out.   It felt good to hold him, and he sure didn't seem to mind.   Maybe???   I open the passenger door and he puts the two small bags on the floor in front.

"Greg, thanks for the laugh and your help.  It's been the highlight of my week to come by here.  I was looking forward to getting to know you better tonight, and I have.   Maybe some time we can go out for a soda or a cup of coffee?  And please call me Bob when we're out of the store."

"Thanks, Bob.  I'd like that.  I haven't had much social life since I got back into Liberty, and no real friends there.   They all seem either really young, or really uptight, or try to be big wheels on a small campus."

"You just confirmed my impressions of Liberty students, Greg.  I'm sure there are many who are as mature and balanced as you, but they don't hang around with the 'in crowd,' either.   Don't you have a girl you date?"   {There, I've asked the big question, now.}

"No I don't, Bob.  I was married, but we broke up after two years.  I'm glad now we didn't have any kids.  I hate it when a kid has only one parent.   I live at home and my folks are very supportive of me finishing my degree, and now they don't push me to date like Mom did before I got married.   Guess they realize marriage may not be for me."

{BINGO!  He's just told me a lot about his history, his character, and possible orientation.}

"I'm the same way, Greg.  It took me almost fifteen years to realize that we were making each other and the kids miserable.   Guess we stayed together that long for the kids, but they knew we weren't going to make it before we did.   Now I feel like Popeye."

"What do you mean, Popeye?"

"Don't you remember?   In his cartoons he'd say 'I yam what I yam, and that's all I yam.  I'm Popeye the sailor man!'  I was in the Navy, and now I yam what I yam."

Greg doesn't say anything for a few moments, just raises one eyebrow while a small smile plays around his lips..  Then he looks me over, quickly but  thoroughly.   It feels like he is checking me out, and it feels good.  As his eyes lock into mine again, I feel my Cobra raise his head.

"Yes, I'd like to get a coffee with you some night after I get off here.   But tonight I have to get right home and cram for a major test on Monday.  Think you'll be here next Friday?"

{What a neat guy!  He lets me know he might be interested, tells me he can't tonight, and sets us up for a date next Friday.   A date?   Haven't had one in years, but it sure sounds good!}

"OK, Greg.  Knock 'em dead on the exam, and shall we plan on getting coffee, next Friday night?" I ask in as friendly and non-threatening way that I can.

He grins and says, "Yep!  I haven't had a date for coffee in a while," with just the right, playful tone of voice.

He's left us both an out.   I do not leer at him or moves in on him here in the parking lot.  I tell myself {"SLOW down!"    For four years I've told myself not to rush the next guy!}   These thoughts zip through my mind in the five seconds I stare into Greg's eyes, a smile spreading across my face.

"You got it, Buddy.   A real coffee date!   See you then," as I walk around to get into Wolfgang.

"You have a good week, too.  See you," as he grabs the loose carts and heads back into the store.

I sit for about half a minute before starting Wolfgang, just enjoying the rush.   And it is a rush!   Greg has let me know that he's interested in being my friend -- maybe even my 'special friend' right here in Jerry Falwell's town!   While he attends Falwell's Liberty U.!!   Hooooo HA!   What a unique, complete, complex, wonderful guy!    {Gotta slow down!   No picking out our silver pattern or registering our other choices yet!   Just get to know him, give us both some time together but space, too!}  After Kevin gave me the go-ahead down in Louisiana, taking me to Thanksgiving Dinner at his folks' house after they'd invited his gay brother and "spouse," I moved way too fast.  I was so hot for him I burned us out.  Total conflagration for two months, which burned up whatever we could have had.   Still hurts to consider the ashes of what could have been a really fine, long term relationship....  I will take it easy this time!   Not even plot and scheme how to get into his pants... yet.   But it sure felt wonderful to see him look me up and down, smile seductively, and agree to "a date."   YES!

This continues the rewrites on my first three chapters.   When I began the story I thought it would only last three or four episodes with hot sex then end -- the way so many of my affairs did.   But with feedback from a lot of my new friends and some experienced Nifty authors, I'm letting my characters move slowly -- the way Greg and I really did begin our friendship.   Yes, so far it's as true as I can recall it.   If you'd like to read it and all my other stories, come over to my website: http://communities.msn.com/GayVikings -- and join free.  Send comments to me, Bob Nelson, alias "Nails" at NailsB69@hotmail.com   Thanks!