Cowboy Up

I told him I'd meet him at Divine Inspiration, the art gallery that featured an exhibit by three local landscape artists, one being a good surf buddy of mine. It's high up on State Street, so it wasn't very busy. They had free wine in the small back gallery and I helped myself to an awesome helping of Chardonnay. He showed up in his ripped flannel shirt and cowboy hat. I hid behind my wine, watching him gaze at the colorful landscapes, that by now, are all so familiar to me.

"Hi Billy," I reached from behind him sliding my fingers down his arm and in one smooth dance step he turned and enveloped me.
We meandered down State, in and out of galleries. We wandered behind the art museum and came upon an atrium of gallery shops with doors propped wide and people slowly streaming in and out and past. We went inside one of the galleries that had a Comer of Refugio in the front window. (Why do I want to say 'winder' instead of window?) One gallery served animal crackers in little cups. We laughed at that but each took one.
Outside the gallery there was a fountain and next to it was the back of a woman on a tall chair singing the blues. Beside her was a piano and a stand up bass player. They all had their backs to us, a small audience seated on folding chairs in front of them. We sat ourselves on the fountain's edge, so that the small audience in folding chairs looked directly at us and it was easy to feel as if we were a part of the show, having a captive audience fixedly watching us.
Billy pulled himself to sit closer to me. It was quite romantic with the fountain, the three piece blues band, and the voyeurs. "Do you want to hear a joke?" I asked. The little blues singer and the band were beginning to pick up in tempo. "Sure," he grinned. We were sitting close and keeping our voices to ourselves. "There were two homeless guys and one of them goes. 'Hey, I just found $20 bucks!' and the other guy goes, 'That's nothing, I found a lady tied up to the railroad tracks and we fucked all day.' 'Did you get a blowjob?' the other guy asks. 'No, I never found her head.'"
Billy twitched a little bit. His mouth opened and then closed and his eyes widened.
I smiled and then I started laughing.
"That's the type of joke a guy tells another guy," he said, still wide-eyed.
I started laughing harder, but he didn't. I guess it's not the type of joke you tell on a first date with a cowboy named Billy Bob. Yes, Billy's middle name is Robert. We stayed there on the fountain edge sharing little personal tidbits with one another, then headed back to Divine Inspiration for more of the free booze.

  I hope Billy Bob doesn't mind that I'm using this picture I took that day.
He sure looks cute riding that dolphin.  And shut up, Ben Franklin! No one asked you.

He was a wonderful kisser and really put on quite a show with his pucker. It was impressive, which is how he wanted to be perceived. These young guys, I thought to myself, showing his wares. I don't normally date guys under 35, but I liked his sense of self. I felt a little shy with him, but he said he didn't care and continued to wrap himself around me or brush against me as we walked down State.
Later on, as I was dropping him off at his place on Yanonali Billy says, "I'm going to find a joke to top your joke." Then he kissed me again and again. 
"Why didn't you just fuck him?" one of my friends asked. "Sometimes that's just all both people want." I like to take my time getting to know people, I said. I don't want some crazy nut job who won't go away because I fucked him. It's like feeding a cat. There's nothing wrong with taking your time. It's interesting to see how people respond in certain situations.