Fried ChickenThe delicious piece of chicken noticed me as soon as I entered the little neighborhood park, his interest clearly telegraphed by his body language. Earlier in the day I’d cruised the gay rabbit-run along Albuquerque’s East Central Avenue and saw him sitting at an outdoor fast-food table watching the action. I pegged him immediately as a colt eager to learn what it was all about. Although it was unlikely—given the kid’s devilish good looks—I hoped he’d be around after I got off work. And now, here he was, bigger than life. I was planning on finding out exactly how big that was.
The kid was just my type; barely legal, not a jock, smooth and willowy with a slightly underdeveloped physique, downy cheeks, and an awkwardness only now gaining some masculine grace. And a fetching bub
