How is 2018 going for you, so far? Mine is moving along at a quick pace, for some reason.

Derrick and Paul are chatting each other up at the bar in Truck Me How I Like It. It’s a little longer than six sentences for context.

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“So you’re a musician, Mr. Fontana. It suits you,” I said, sipping the second beer I’d ordered while watching the band play.

“It’s Paul. Why won’t you use my first name? We’re not at work, and even then, I wouldn’t mind. I think you know that.” He sat on the stool next to mine, ignoring the people who were trying to get his attention.

“Habit, I guess. And I’ll continue to do it, now, just because it bugs you,” I replied, grinning at him.

“I might have to spank you if you do,” he said, and winked at me.

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Where has the year gone??

I hope you had a fabulous 2017. Are you ready for the new year? I am!

Derrick is entranced by Paul Fontana on stage – from Truck Me How I Like It.

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Paul held my attention. I watched as he lost himself in the music, playing with his eyes closed and head thrown back as he made that axe sing. I could almost feel his fingers on me, making my skin hum. I hadn’t had such a strong reaction to a person in years.

The band took a break after the first set, and the crowd was all over them as they tried to make their way to the bar. Just my
luck, Paul ended up near where I sat and he ordered a gin and tonic, hold the gin.

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Hi, everyone!

Sorry I’ve missed the last couple of weeks, but I was out of the country visiting family. I hope you have been enjoying the winter weather so far. 🙂

Back to Derrick’s story, Truck Me How I Like It, below. He’s trying to decide what to do with his evening (and by extension, his life), especially now that his brother Joey seems to be doing just fine without him. (Rated R for language)

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I’d never had the time to pursue anything serious—with a guy or girl—though I wasn’t even remotely a virgin. What with Joey’s problems, our parents dying and trying to make ends meet, life had just been too complicated lately. Shit, I hadn’t even fucked my fist in months.

Now that things were leveling out, maybe I could start hooking up again. I might even get lucky, and find my soul mate, if there was such a thing. I’d start with a random fuck tonight, maybe.

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Hi, everyone! Gosh, it’s been a long week. I hope you had a wonderful time with family, though. 🙂

Back to Derrick’s story, Truck Me How I Like It, below. Finally, the truck has been unloaded, avoiding bloodshed, barely! A little longer than six sentences, once again, for context.

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I got into the cab and rolled the window down. “Thanks again, sir.”

“Anytime,” he replied, and smiled, a toothy grin that did something funny to my insides, for some reason. “You know, you can call me Paul, Derrick.”

“I might just do that in the future, Mr. Fontana. See you next time,” I said, ignoring his mild flirtation as I started the engine.

Paul stepped back and I watched him in my side view mirrors as I pulled out of the lot, his shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair blowing in the light breeze.

Huh, who would have thought…

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Hello, my dears!

It’s going to be in the 70s this weekend. Seriously??

More from Derrick’s story, Truck Me How I Like It, below. Derrick is becoming angrier by the second.

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Another fifteen minutes passed, and the fat fuck on a power trip was still only halfway through unloading the pallets from the flatbed. I sent a quick text to Adrian about the situation, then decided that enough was enough. If the guy didn’t hurry up, I’d miss my last drop of the day because the business would close soon.

I got out of the truck, locked the cab and made my way to the management office, ignoring the smirk on the slob’s face as I passed him. Jesus, did he even shower? I could smell him from fifty feet away.

Just my luck, the manager who’d intercepted my altercation in the past with the slow-ass dude outside was coming out of a back room.

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Welcome to the weekend!

It finally feels like fall here in Atlanta, which makes me happy. 🙂

Continuing from last week with Derrick’s story, Truck Me How I Like It. Derrick’s musings are below.

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At least I had the weekend to look forward to, it being Friday afternoon and all. My brother Joey was thriving at the treatment facility, and I would be visiting him on Saturday. I loved our new home, too, it was much better than the tiny apartment we’d been living in, which had been the cause of so much stress for him.

The past six months at the trailer park had been a slice of heaven. The residents were cool, and Adrian and his boyfriend Brandon Perez were kind to me. The best thing, though, was that Joey was finally getting the help he needed to deal with all the things that had happened to him in Afghanistan. My brother was getting his life back.

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