an inside joke

He said his name was Josh, but I called him Cliff, after Clifford the fictional big red dog. That was an inside joke.

We meet on the 3rd floor unity of the psych ward at St. Charles Hospital in Oregon, Ohio. He was a heavier guy, white and gay, somewhatobvious with the latter, tho I didn’t assume he was. He told me he was gay on our 3rd day on the floor, while eating Breakfast to be exact. I had pancakes and sausage, a vegan admitting defeat and giving in to the talents  of the chefs of the hospital. It tasted very good.

We played rummy and euchre, and I soon discovered Josh was somewhat talented in the earlier game, not so much in the latter. We did win as partners tho.

Josh counted cards, that much was obvious after he won the first 4 games of rummy. At first I thought maybe he was just paying attention more, and that I probably had some bad hands and was distracted. But as his wins tallied up and I wizened a little bit and called him out on it. He admitted he knew what cards were in my hand.

After that incident I stopped picking up cards from the discard pile, solely lifting one card up from the draw pile. He never had a chance. I won 3 games after that, all in a row. He pouted and went to bed, somewhat dismayed and possible depressed that the mighty had fallen. I had entered the hospital a novice, I emerged a champion.

Josh caught on quickly that I was pansexual, perhaps bi, mainly because I told him I was. He said he figured I was probably a little gay, but I’m not sure I believed him. I think I act pretty straight, of the white male variety model of masculinity at the very least.

Josh made a few passes at me, tho I said I wasn’t interested every time. That didn’t stop me from flirting back, and making some jokes about ballsacks every once in a while. We got on fabulously from there, despite the fact he was eye fucking me the whole time. To be honest, I kinda liked it.

When it was time for discharge Me and Josh got to leave at the same time, down to the same hour and only 30 minutes apart. He left before I did, and I gave him a hug while his ass was on the way out of the door. He said “aw” or something close to that emotional shit, and damn if I didn’t feel the same way. I only said “goodbye bitch”, confident I was well sure allowed to say that word. At least I didn’t fuck him.

Tho I might joke to him now I would still give him a reach around. That was an inside joke.

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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