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When I was growing up we had been a one-car-family with a two car garage. Dad had converted the other half of the garage into a workshop. He liked to build things. Since Dad was no longer around I parked my pick-up in the garage and had turned the other half into a “man-cave”. It had an old futon, a couple of leather, swivel office-chairs, a TV and a fridge. Nobody ever went in there.One Friday evening Taylor showed up with a six-pack and suggested we go in my private place and watch some obscure game that was on. The game wasn’t interesting and he persuaded me to put on a porn channel. After a very few minutes he asked if I jacked off. When you think about it, that’s a pretty dumb question. I mean, you already know the answer. As I said, I'm between girlfriends, and I was jacking off more than usual…a lot actually.He said, “Do you want to do it now?” I was a little taken aback.“Now? In front of you?”“Well, what I meant is, I need to, and I wondered if you wanted to do it at the same. Knowing I had my little solace away from all this somehow made it all the more bearable. It was as I was leaving that night that one of the guys from work ran out of the pub and tapped me on the shoulder. ‘I nearly forgot mate,’ Grant stated as I lit up a cigarette, ‘This turned up on Wednesday and I forgot to pass it on. No idea what it is?’ He concluded, flipping the thin package between his hands. Grant was a good lad and, with his slightly wiry build and scraggy short brown curls on his head, had a habit of being very profound when he spoke up. He was also potentially quite clumsy but somehow always had the luck not to drop the knife, or delete the important file, or wear his pants outside his trousers, even though that’s exactly what you’d expect. It was this that made him endearing, and why he was one of the few I kept in more regular contact with. ‘Cheers Mate, I’ll have a look on my journey home.’ I said, heading for the bus stop across the road, aiming for Liverpool Street..
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