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She had not been on too many regular type dates, recently. Mostly, it was just a quick meal or drink, and then into bed. She actually found herself enjoying the evening, and was now getting a little anxious about the next step. That was unusual. She always knew exactly what was going to happen, but things were not going as they normally do. It was time."My place or yours? " she asked."Yours would be best."The drive back to her apartment was quiet. She didn't know why, but she was at a loss for. No cell phone numbers present, early 80s were blessedly lacking those most convenient, yet annoying little suckers. The most bizarre thing that I had noticed when skimming over the names of my friends was that they all lived on the same street as me, only one or two doors down, some even in my apartment building, which made careful marking of each address, including zip code completely redundant. I suppose in those tender years I still displayed the ambition for some sort of organized. I was drunk, I knew that, but I was happy to see him and then, he was telling me he was my father, I could not believe what was going through my head, it was too much to take in, I almost passed out.We took a taxi back to his place and talked and talked, he was like the perfect man you always wanted, and the great father you missed and the fat we both were drunk helped to overcome any awkwardness, especially when he confessed to fucking my friend in the toilets in the bar, her smell was still. She was sitting across my lap. "Doesn't he know you're off the team?" Not anymore."I raised an eyebrow and waited."Seems there was a conference call between Parker, Mr. Reed, and the WSAA right after school." Oh?" The Washington School Activities Association governed high school football along with a lot of other things."Seems some enterprising reporter faxed an advance copy of her article and..."Tami started to get up. I clamped my hands on her hips and held her there."... copies of a Texas.
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