Butter Rum Cartoon

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Tuesday, June 29, 2010


When I was 18 and hitchhiking around the United States, I was picked up in Virginia by a man with a big smile. He smiled at me like someone smiles at a delicious dessert. I got in, putting my zipper bag on the floor between my feet, as usual, and off we went. He was going as far as Alexandria. Leaving my oldest sister in Charleston, South Carolina that morning, I was hoping to make it to Washington D.C. that night. We hadn't gone very far before the man was talking to me about my love life, which had been pretty uneventful. "Do you like girls?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.

Then he asked, "Do you like boys?"

Okay, all sorts of options presented themselves. I could heed the warnings of school to avoid this guy and get away from him. I could put up with him as far as Alexandria. I could witness to him about Christianity and nature. But I was a practical fellow, and so listened patiently to him and went along with his ideas and fantasies. He asked me if I'd be willing to spend the night with him at a Holiday Inn. I told him that I had made a bet with my sister that I could make it to Washington D.C. that day, but that if he would take me on up to D.C., I would spend the night with him. He was terribly excited, and began mentioning various acts we could do together. I kept saying, "No, I don't want to do that," and I think the fact of my naivety made him all the more aroused. Finally he said, "Just letting me lie naked on your back feels really good," and I said nothing.

Along the way, he even treated me to meals at roadside cafes. Passing Alexandria, Virginia, he brought me all the way to D.C., and my first tour of our nation's capital was given to me by a horny homosexual.

After riding around that evening, seeing famous buildings and monuments for the first time in real life, he finally said, "Well, I guess we should start looking for a Holiday Inn." And when he came to a stoplight in downtown Washington, I grabbed my bag and the door handle at the same time and slipped smoothly out of the car, saying, "Thanks for the ride." And my last sight of this man in this thirties with the receding hairline was him reaching toward me over the front seat and saying a loud, "Uhhh!" I walked between the people on the sidewalk, went around a corner and into a dark alley, and felt very safe.

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