Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

The One That Got Away

Shootin' the Breeze

I walked into the party, like I was walking onto a yacht.

On that enchanted evening, I saw a stranger across the crowded room.

She no doubt noticed my confident swagger and could not keep her eyes off me.  I felt self-conscious as she undressed me in her mind.  I hoped it was not obvious to the other young men in the room.  It would hurt their feelings and cause jealousy.  It was not my fault.  I could not help it, a victim of my own attractiveness.

I was in college, a college man among college boys.  Some of those boys were bad boys.  They were wild and immature.  They had invited me to go with them across the river, crossing the state line for immoral purposes — to see Miss Nude Universe, who was appearing at some bar.  They wanted me to chaperone them, I suppose.  They probably recognized…

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