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The Senior Centerthis story is part of the FanClub (fm:older women/men, 5869 words) [4/16] show all parts

Author: Thomas B
Added: May 06 2020Views / Reads: 965 / 667 [69%]Part vote: 9.75 (12 votes)
The director convinces regular clients to tell their juicy stories-HAL SMITHERSON, BOY TOY
 


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On one of those occasions when Hal stopped in the Senior Center, I asked him if he was interested in writing a little memoir, he jumped at the opportunity.

I grew up in an upscale neighborhood, in a toney suburb of Chicago. I hated sports. I was clumsy and my body was built more for reading, chess or hanging out by the pool, than it was for running and jumping. I never went to gym class. I found a thousand excuses to get out of it. The result was that I didn't shower with guys, and thus didn't know that I was, shall we say, different.

I didn't date either. I was afraid to ask a girl out. Afraid they might say ‘no,' and just as afraid they might say ‘yes.'

That all changed the summer before I went off to college. I was 18. No one was home, and I thought I'd take a dip in our pool. This was not unusual. Since Mrs. Cullen, who lived next door, and whose windows looked toward the pool was away, I decided to go skinny-dipping. If you've ever experienced a Midwestern summer, you understand why. I sat by the shallow end of the pool, took off my suit, waded in, swam to the other end and back again. Then I walked around to the diving board and dove off. I did this four or five times.

Then I sat back in a lounge chair and let the sun dry me off. I was day dreaming of Sandy McCormick who lived down the street. I thought how ...

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