He was indeed looking my way. He watched for a little while and I made sure he got a look at me walking; bending over, etc...doing my best to give a sexy show for him. After 10 minutes or so of this his coworkers joined him in the parking lot and they were leaving...the first guy pointed me out to his friends and they started hooting and hollering "Hey Sexy" and "check out the slut" and then "It's a faggot!" "She's a He" and much laughter. I went back in disappointed. My illusion had failed. They were making fun of me. I closed the balcony door and curtains, then turned on the tv to pass the rest of the evening.A good two hours later the phone rang in my room. It was the guys from the parking lot. They said they'd been out to eat and drank some beers and had been talking about me the whole time. They asked if I would go back out on the balcony so they could see some more. Then promised not to laugh at me if I would please give them another look see. I gave in of course.This time I. For about four to five years I didn’t really communicate with my friend, but in 1981 my youngest son mentioned an interest in spending time with the son of my friend. My wife, who now knew all about my affair, thought it would be okay to meet on neutral grounds to pick up their son and bring him back to Iowa for a visit. So, we met at a Six-Flags north of Chicago. We had a great time and it was almost like old times, but the strain of the past was still there. My feelings were running rampant, however, and when it was time to leave and go back to our respective homes, I walked toward the Six Flags exit. Just before walking out, I turned around and looked back. What I saw was my friend sitting on a wall around a fountain looking in my direction. Her eyes were clouded and smoldering. She was telling me that it wasnot over. For the next couple of years I would take quick trips to the Midwest to spend a few hours with her and then dash back home to my family, my job and my life. It was.
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