Fresh from the train, ‘mo exits the train station and flags a cab.

“XXXX West Blah Blah.” Since Thad’s fella has a full New Year’s weekend planned, ‘mo will be staying with his friend, Sissy.

As the cabbie peels out, ‘mo hears the click of the door locks. He looks down and much to his horror realizes that there isn’t a visible knob with which to unlock the door. He cannot believe he was this stupid — he ALWAYS checks this before he gets in a cab.

Panic surges deep within him as he recalls that this is exactly how the killer captured his victims in THE BONE COLLECTOR.

Within seconds, his mind is awash in a multitude of scenarios in which he is driven to an unspecified location and tortured for hours before his nude, lifeless fish belly white corpse is dumped in an abandoned lot or dumpster. He hopes the press will be kind and not refer to him as “the aging, out of shape faggot.”

As the cab continues to zoom through traffic, ‘mo does the only thing he can think of: he takes photos of his cab number and sends them to his friend back home with a text message:

IF I AM DEAD WHEN YOU GET THIS, HERE WOULD BE A GOOD PLACE TO START INVESTIGATING.

“This is the address, no? Sir?”

‘mo suddenly realizes the driver is speaking to him and looks up.

Huh. What do you know? ‘mo is sitting in front of Sissy’s condominium.

* * * * *

‘mo is just waking up from his nap on the sofa when Sissy comes home from work.

“Hey, ‘mo. I’ll be out in a few. I’ve got something I want to show you, gurl.”

‘mo is flipping through the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest when Sissy sashays into the living room buck naked per usual. ‘mo pays no attention since Sissy is a practicing nudist and he has seen that impressive ebony junk a zillion times before.

“Ahem.”

‘mo looks up from his magazine and finds himself face to face with Sissy’s chocolate colored cock. Only there is something different about it this time. It’s…shiny. And hard. But not in the “I sure am glad to see you” way.

No, today Sissy’s cock is…imprisoned in a clear plastic vented tube.

“Is that what I think it is?” asks ‘mo.

“Yep,” replies Sissy, hands on hips, crotch jutted out into ‘mo’s face. “The Curve. $168 dollars of plastic chastity. Nigel gave it to me.” Nigel is Sissy’s adorable OB/GYN boyfriend who recently became elgible for membership in AARP.

‘mo reaches out gingerly, then pulls his hand back. He looks up, eyebrows raised. “May I?”

“Please do.”

‘mo leans in close, peering at the plastic prison surrounding his pal’s pee-pee and studies The Curve’s unique design. Cautiously, he pokes it with his index finger.

“This is very nice, Sissy,” he says in awe of his friend’s new acquistion. “Much nicer than the stainless steel cock sock Thad and I saw at IML…”

“And much more comfortable, I’d wager,” Sissy giggles. “Oh, sorry about all the baby oil — it keeps me from chafing.”

‘mo is undeterred by the greasiness — he is too busy marvelling at the design and apparent comfort of the apparatus. While he is already knee deep in a celebration of celibacy, this is certainly an interesting accoutrement to insure one does not fall off the wagon.

“I think we need to take you shopping,” Sissy says. “Little Dirk would love it!”

“Alas, I shall be attending the thea-tuh this evening,” sighs ‘mo. “Perhaps another time.”

“No worries, gurl. You go and have you some fun! But don’t stay out too late — Thad says you’re having brunch with his friend Darrin tomorrow…”

____________

Tomorrow: The last blind date. EVER.