Cloudy hazeĪt any rate, a few weeks ago, on a Friday night – Mike busted out some 420.
This wasn’t a surprise because in the past, we’ve shared a smoke together.īut on this occasion, things were different. We were blowing clouds and watching The Oath on Crackle. Not in the psychedelic kind of way but instead, just more detached – know what I mean? As things got cloudier, my ability to focus got blurrier. He started talking about wishing he could hook up with women and was tired of the whole social distancing thing. In my own way, I revealed I was struggling with the same thing.Īnd yep – Mike knows that I’m bi but has never been judged me on that. At some point, he leaned back into the couch and clasped his hands behind his head. That’s when I noticed what was going on in his shorts. When I told him he was showing, Mike literally turned to me and said, “Dude, I wish you were a chick.” I won’t go into graphic detail here except to say that it was massively obvious. I’ve been around long enough to know about a brojob request. But then, after taking a super deep toke, Mike replied, “Cool man but I’m covering my eyes.” A moment later, I said, “What if we pretend that I am?” Usually he wears a facemask but not always Covering The EyesĪt first there was an awkward silence. That’s when he grabbed a homemade bandana-facemask and covered his peeps.
Was he going to deck me? Was he just kidding? Would he wig out? The first time it happened, I can still remember feeling super nervous sliding down his blue shorts. Much of what happened next is a foggy blur.