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Chapter 26: Hidden
Chapter 26: HiddenBarnie’s Books. Keller Street. West End. A large bookstore on the other side of town that I often frequented was called Barnie’s Books. It was three levels of old refurbished barn wood. The third level, my favorite, had shoulder-narrow passageways with dusty male-on-male books. While visiting up there, if I were lucky, I sometimes had the opportunity to retrieve a pretty boy’s phone number or smile—maybe even more. The narrow passageways permitted one to glide one’s hand along a masculine back or buttocks, and share a polite, “Excuse me.” Elbows could bump together in some type of literal dance. Chests could frequently connect in passing, as well as chins, lips, and noses because of the close proximity. In truth, one could not consider the bookstore a dirty place. Rather
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