B. Alexander Howerton Read Online Free PDF

recognizing the reference to an old Little
Rascals episode.  “What is it this time, chieftain?  I thought you were getting
along well with Stephanie.”  Steve had known that Alan was upset over his
breakup with Stephanie, and had invited him to stay overnight at his place in
the country, south of Grand Rapids, Michigan.  Alan liked to go out to Steve’s
every now and then, and they usually stayed up far too late drinking beer
around a bonfire in Steve’s firepit, in a clearing among the pines.  This night
was especially beautiful.  The stars twinkled brightly in the crisp cool air of
early September, and the crackling flames danced around the logs like
frolicking wood nymphs.
    Steve tossed Alan a fresh cold can of beer.  He caught it
and popped the top.  “She’s a cast-iron bitch!  She dumped me.  It feels like
she ripped my heart right out of my chest.  You asshole,” he shouted at Steve
as he quickly scooted his feet back while leaning forward, in order to avoid
the foam that oozed out of the can, over his hand, and onto the ground.  Steve
laughed.
    Alan sucked the foam off the top of the can, spit it out,
then took a long drink.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand, and
continued.  “I couldn’t please her, no matter what I tried.  She was never
satisfied.  She wanted to be made love to in a specific way, and I couldn’t do
it.”  He accentuated the last four words, spoken in a mocking tone, by waging
his head from side to side.
    What do you mean?” Steve asked, stooping to grab a small log
and tossing it on the fire.  He then sat down on the wooden bench behind him,
extended his legs, and crossed them.
    Alan ran his fingers through his red hair, pushing his bangs
back, let out a sigh, and replied, “Well, she was only into the missionary
position, and she wanted me to hold her just right, and go glacially slow, and
I had better not be the first one done, or there was hell to pay.  Man, I just
wasn’t used to anything like that.  I always finished too early for her.  But
I’m thinking it’s not all my fault.  Remember Jeanne, my girlfriend before
Stephanie?”
    “Of course!” Steve rolled his eyes.  “You wouldn’t shut up
about her for the year or so before you met Stephanie.”
    Alan picked up a stick and poked at the fire, attempting to
make it burn brighter.  He only succeeded in singeing the light red hair on the
back of his hand and knocking over an ember-encrusted log, which almost rolled
over onto his foot.  “Shit!” he yelled, and jumped back.  Steve chuckled as he
raised his can for a swig.
    Alan used his stick to flip the burning log back into the
fire as he continued.  “Jeanne was whacked, too, but she was great in bed.  I
mean, it didn’t matter who was done first.  We just kept going, until we both
were satisfied.  But she was just getting a divorce, and didn’t want a serious
relationship or anything, so she ditched me.
    “Now Stephanie, we really made a spiritual connection.  I
mean, we thought we loved each other.  But it all fell apart when we got into
bed.  So she ditched me.  Went back to that Matt guy.”  Alan drank from
his Bud.  “You know, it makes me feel a little better now that I’ve figured out
I was just a scab, replacing the real union guy until he came back.  But it
still sucks.”  He glowered into the fire.
    After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke up.  “You’ve
just got to chill out a while, dude.  You’ve got to relax, and learn to be
alone with yourself.  Once you’re comfortable with who you are, the right woman
will show up.”
    “No, you’re wrong, pal.  They all want something.  Either
they want money, or you have to please them just right, or they want to tie you
down, or something.  I just want someone I can love, who wants to be with me,
who is great in bed but we’re also friends, you know what I mean?  But I don’t
think women like that exist.  No, I’m a confirmed bachelor