A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation Read Online Free
Author: Kage Alan
on is that we would disagree, so it was stupid for either of us to continue the conversation.
"You had a call earlier. Some girl.” His voice was even, as if relating events that occurred regularly.
"Really?” It was a rather unusual occurrence. A girl calling me? It had a nice ring to it. There was a girl in Professor Staff's class named Tina who was pretty cute—blonde, nice green eyes, pleasant voice, great body, vacant look on her face, perfect sorority material. What the hell would she be doing calling me? “What did she want?"
"Just to say that your latest music review sucks, Roxette sucks and, according to her, you do, too.” He paused as if in deep thought. “She didn't leave a name or number."
It definitely wasn't Tina.
* * * *
Classes came and went daily, and homework took up a sizable chunk of time during the week, but that was mostly because I didn't want to do any of it on the weekend. I probably should have saved some of it because I tended not to do much on the weekend anyway.
My writing really started showing signs of improvement, and I was aching to try my pencil at some short stories and maybe even a novel. My other classes went well, and I knew that I was in no danger of being on academic probation again. The dean might not know my name yet, but the expulsion committee wouldn't, either. It was a fair trade. All I had to concentrate on now was finals.
Todd's finals finished on a Tuesday and mine that Wednesday. He was moved out an hour after his last exam but came back the next evening so the two of us could get drunk together before moving on to “greener pastures.” He called it that because he was from the west side of the state and really was moving back to fields and pastures and all that farmer stuff.
That last night I spent with Todd was very special. He was extremely patient and gentle with me, especially since it was my first time—getting drunk, that is. When I could no longer feel my legs, he let me put my arm around his neck for support while I puked. When I could no longer feel the rest of my body, he held my head up so I didn't make a mess on the floor.
My parents arrived the next morning, but Todd had already left. I vaguely recall through my stupor a death threat if I ever became a writer and wrote about him unless it was published in Penthouse .
Mom and Dad were both happy to see me and glad I was confident I hadn't flunked out of school and wasted all their money. Aside from inquiring about my exams, the only questions they had were why I insisted that they speak very quietly and why they had to leave the “damn” curtains closed.
After all my stuff was safely packed away in the van, I went back upstairs for one last look around the room. So much had happened and changed since I'd first arrived. God only knew what would happen in the fall, but before I could get to that, I had to survive the summer.
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2
Most people my age love the summertime. I hate it! I never went away and vacationed in some distant foreign country where scantily dressed women offered to buy me drinks, take me for romantic walks on the beach, watch the sunset and finally accompany me back to a room to have wild orgasmic sex on a hammock. It never really appealed to me, for one, and I couldn't afford it anyway.
Besides, I'd probably throw my back out on the hammock and end up in some third world hospital. To add insult to injury, I'd also leave with something worse than I'd gone in there with.
Aside from the one perk of maintaining my health, summer vacations tended to give me too much time to think about my life. Reality could be such a stupid place, and mine was rapidly closing in. It started after I closed the van door, and we headed for home.
It wasn't the most pleasant journey in the world, mostly because it was time to start thinking about what I would do for a summer job. I really did have to think about it because I was asked about it ten minutes into the
"You had a call earlier. Some girl.” His voice was even, as if relating events that occurred regularly.
"Really?” It was a rather unusual occurrence. A girl calling me? It had a nice ring to it. There was a girl in Professor Staff's class named Tina who was pretty cute—blonde, nice green eyes, pleasant voice, great body, vacant look on her face, perfect sorority material. What the hell would she be doing calling me? “What did she want?"
"Just to say that your latest music review sucks, Roxette sucks and, according to her, you do, too.” He paused as if in deep thought. “She didn't leave a name or number."
It definitely wasn't Tina.
* * * *
Classes came and went daily, and homework took up a sizable chunk of time during the week, but that was mostly because I didn't want to do any of it on the weekend. I probably should have saved some of it because I tended not to do much on the weekend anyway.
My writing really started showing signs of improvement, and I was aching to try my pencil at some short stories and maybe even a novel. My other classes went well, and I knew that I was in no danger of being on academic probation again. The dean might not know my name yet, but the expulsion committee wouldn't, either. It was a fair trade. All I had to concentrate on now was finals.
Todd's finals finished on a Tuesday and mine that Wednesday. He was moved out an hour after his last exam but came back the next evening so the two of us could get drunk together before moving on to “greener pastures.” He called it that because he was from the west side of the state and really was moving back to fields and pastures and all that farmer stuff.
That last night I spent with Todd was very special. He was extremely patient and gentle with me, especially since it was my first time—getting drunk, that is. When I could no longer feel my legs, he let me put my arm around his neck for support while I puked. When I could no longer feel the rest of my body, he held my head up so I didn't make a mess on the floor.
My parents arrived the next morning, but Todd had already left. I vaguely recall through my stupor a death threat if I ever became a writer and wrote about him unless it was published in Penthouse .
Mom and Dad were both happy to see me and glad I was confident I hadn't flunked out of school and wasted all their money. Aside from inquiring about my exams, the only questions they had were why I insisted that they speak very quietly and why they had to leave the “damn” curtains closed.
After all my stuff was safely packed away in the van, I went back upstairs for one last look around the room. So much had happened and changed since I'd first arrived. God only knew what would happen in the fall, but before I could get to that, I had to survive the summer.
[Back to Table of Contents]
2
Most people my age love the summertime. I hate it! I never went away and vacationed in some distant foreign country where scantily dressed women offered to buy me drinks, take me for romantic walks on the beach, watch the sunset and finally accompany me back to a room to have wild orgasmic sex on a hammock. It never really appealed to me, for one, and I couldn't afford it anyway.
Besides, I'd probably throw my back out on the hammock and end up in some third world hospital. To add insult to injury, I'd also leave with something worse than I'd gone in there with.
Aside from the one perk of maintaining my health, summer vacations tended to give me too much time to think about my life. Reality could be such a stupid place, and mine was rapidly closing in. It started after I closed the van door, and we headed for home.
It wasn't the most pleasant journey in the world, mostly because it was time to start thinking about what I would do for a summer job. I really did have to think about it because I was asked about it ten minutes into the
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