The Confidant



“Women want to make everything complicated,” Farley’s new friend says to him. “Especially sex. They can’t just enjoy it, gotta make it…

“Complicated, right!” Farley takes another sip of over-priced motel lounge well whiskey. He looks across the table at Kyle…Newsome? Newman? Newsome, newsomething. Better slow down on the drinkies.  It occurs to him that maybe he shouldn’t confide in a barroom buddy in an unfamiliar town, the last stop on Farley’s  sales route, and his last chance to maybe slip a roofie in some bitch’s drink.

But there’re  no women in the place. Just the two of them, the bartender, Tony, and two army guys about to be shipped overseas.  The soldiers were spending their bonus keeping the jukebox running, and the country crap was about to drive him mad.

He turns back to Kyle, who was sliding a fresh drink across the table to him. Tony was already back at the bar, rag in hand. What the Hell, Kyle doesn’t know me, what car I’m driving, I’m not even checked in to this place. Never take the chance of meeting in the morning your conquest of the previous night.  It’s all just hearsay anyway.

The urge to tell someone his secret had grown stronger, and liquor had pushed the desire to share visions of what he would do, had done,  to irresistible levels.

Kyle coughs. Farley sees  his glass raised in anticipation of a toast. His glass was half-empty, Farley had  yet taken a sip. Time to show who’s the drinker here.

The glasses clink together. “To new friends and old secrets.”  Kyle winks at the end of the toast.  The whiskey tastes better this round, and the burn is just a warm feeling spreading through Farley’s body.

Farley’sets his glass down with a bang. Tony gives him a quick look. Screw him, he gets all the tail he wants. Gives ‘em free liquor, get’s ‘em buzzed. Same thing I do, my way’s quicker, ‘s’all.

Farley makes his decision. This guy Kyle, he’s alright, bought most of the rounds, the room’s spinning some now. He fumbles in his shirt pocket, one of the capsules falls into his lap, then out of sight somewhere under the chair, the other lands on the table between the two men. Kyle looks up from the roofie and smiles.

“You make sure they put out on the first date. ”

”You betcha, end the debate. I like to get ‘em back in the room before they can’t stand, they stop talking before that point. “

Kyle snorted.“I’m big enough to carry ‘em back to the room myself.”

“But…. that attacks….attracts,…. ‘tention.” Farley leans down to pick up the fallen knockout pill.

Kyle picks him up from the floor, puts him back in the chair. He waves off Tony, who had started over with a cold rag. “And a big guy like me can hold a lot more liquor.”

“My roommate has had a little too much, I’m afraid.” One of the soldiers laughs, pokes his buddy, who chuckled without looking up from his phone.

Farley tries to look up at Kyle, but his head seem to suddenly weigh too much, and any verbal protesting of his mistaken status as a lodger was going to be limited to moans and gags.  Kyle, now sitting in the chair next to Farley, keeps him from sliding onto the floor again. He pushes Farley upright against the seatback, and holds him there . Moving in close enough that Farley could feel the man’s whiskers against his cheek, and smell his cologne, Kyle whispers in his ear.

“Yeah, it does attract attention.” Kyle said, continuing the conversation, “ But not so much when you walk out of a bar with a man in your arms instead of a helpless woman.”

He answers a questioning grunt as if a star pupil had posed a pertinent query.
“When you went to use the restroom, second to last drink, that’s when I decided you were my sugar tonight.”
His left hand slides under Farley’s thighs.
“When you showed me Your pills, I knew it was fate that brought us together.”
Kyle wraps his right arm around the inert man’s ribcage, lifts Farley out of the chair, cradling him like a baby, and gazes into his face just as tenderly. “Let’s blow this joint, lover.”
“Get the door for me, Tony?”

“Sure thing, Mr…Newton, right?

“Close enough.” Kyle assures him as he carried Farley towards the exit, “Close enough.”

Greg Cobb, April 28, 2016

4 responses to this post.

  1. Read it four times now, just checking the continuity, plausibility, ‘seeing’ the scene. Ok, high grades on all that.
    It’s just that I draw such a complete utter blank on men+men stuff. Don’t have even a clue what they *do*. Maybe if I try real hard I can perhaps fathom a strong emotional bond, even to the exclusion of normal relationships. But thinking of a bull-calf as a sex-object?! I mean, even in the bovine arena I stick with heifers.
    Anyway, a thoughtful story well-told. It jus don’t purient me, is all.


    • Some new local author friends have been discussing Flash Fiction, complete stories containing less than a set number of words. The limits I have so far encountered range from 750 to 1200. This one clocked in at 754.
      Neither of my characters are fond of emotional involvement, hence their method of courtship. I guess that since a lass was a-lacking, the purience level could only rise so high.


    • Here is a little something you might enjoy, it was only posted on FB…

      June 25, 1876– The Presidential candidates have come to The Little Bighorn River in Montana in order to thank the troops for their service just as the famous battle begins……
      TED CRUZ– They got strong because of Obama’s weak military policies
      BERNIE SANDERS–I have been saying that this would happen for three and a half decades!
      MARCO RUBIO– Wow, neat! Let’s play, Bang Bang! Hey, no fair! I got you first!
      HILLARY CLINTON– I wonder if they have the wampum they owe me for the speech I gave at their last tribal council…
      JOHN KASICH– I’m safe, as long as the Sioux pay as much attention to me as the public does!
      DONALD TRUMP– One set of clothes, that’s all all any of them have? They’re losers, get ’em outta here, go on, get ’em out! Then we can start building a wall….


      The US is the Titanic, on a certain fateful day. Gathered on the foredeck is our current crop of presidential contenders. The iceberg has just come into view….
      BERNIE SANDERS: Great Scott! Why haven’t we changed course, like I’ve been saying all along?
      TED CRUZ: It’s all good! Watch me part this Obamaberg like the Red Sea!
      HILLARY CLINTON: Steer a little to the left. Not too far! After all, I want to give my friends in the ship repair industry a little business.
      JOHN KASICH: I think our first step should be to open a dialogue with the iceberg
      MARCO RUBIO: What’s going on, fellas?
      DONALD TRUMP: Go back to your cabins, people, I got this. How? Your asking Me how? Did you ask anyone else how? No, you didn’t, you singled me out! Because I’ m a winner, and that makes you a loser! I’ve made a lot of money, done a lot of deals, this is just another deal. And when I make the deal….. Where is everybody going? Why are you running off?


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