I was a shit, wasn’t I? We then had a cigarette and parted ways. Mature sex So, he got up, pulled up his shorts and went into the living room to find that his girlfriend had smashed a huge vase right through the glass coffee table out of anger and she was yelling at us both. He had obviously had a bit to drink. It wasn’t long after that experience that I met Steve, a married man in his 40’s who lived at a motel on the San Mateo/Belmont border where the lights of it just said “otel” (which he and I had called the “no-tell, o-tell”) and his wife was apparently in the county jail. The bus pulled into the Greyhound station and there were my parents peering at me in the window of the bus and I read my mom’s lips saying “You dumb son-of-a-bitch!” Oooh were they mad. I was out of high school and working at a restaurant in San Bruno as a busboy.
