I hadn’t seen Dirk for a few weeks, though I’d been back to the caf’ a few times. He’s been stuck in the kitchen washing dishes after sacking one of his staff whilst in a rage about something or other.

It’s been nice going to the café without having to endure his leering glances. I’ve just been hanging out with the old guys there, having a laff and chatting about whatever. It’s nice, I feel like I almost belong.

He appeared from out of the kitchen at lunchtime today, wearing khaki shorts and scruffy shoes. Sweating. As he greeted us I felt compelled to yank on a few of the hairs on his pale legs…

An hour later he came to my workplace (again). We had a brief chat about general stuff (including my stagnant love-life).

As he walked away we had the following exchange:

DIRK: You’ve put on some weight haven’t you?

PJ: Probably.

DIRK: Your tits still look great though.

PJ: Thanks, I know.

Written by PJ | Posted in Uncategorized

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