meet daryl. the virgo. a retired juvenile detention officer who enjoys a good nicaraguan cigar. who walks like he's lived three decades of courting pretty women, with bitter souls and sweetened flesh. who smiles that a "pretty young thing" (his words) asked to take his picture. who blushes when complimented on his droopy, sleep laden eyes, eyes that betray the brightness of that smile between blinks.
he was nice enough. even showed me the inside of his "gentlemen's club" where i met the likes of several more brown men, sitting in plush leather lounge chairs, various cigars hanging from various lips. one brown guy told me that the beauty of their club is the same beauty found in barbershops, minus the buzzing of chatter and clippers. a place where men can go to just be...men.
well, i say, you're doing quite the fabulous job...at being men and all. look, god even gave you penises to get the party started. they laugh nervously. i wink, mischievously. someone shouts "bring her back again, d" to back of daryl, the virgo, who enjoys a good nicaraguan cigar, as he politely walked me back to my car.