Awesome Possum


“I’m shipping out to boot camp soon.”

He was on his way to Buffalo Wild Wings to link up with some friends for a sort of farewell shindig. A young good looking athletic type sporting a t-shirt and basketball shorts—it was cold and raining.

While chopping it up, I noticed what looked like a piece of garbage blowing across the dark street, but it wasn’t garbage. I hit the brakes, and out of reflex, my arm jerked out to secure my messenger bag that usually sits in the seat next to me. I brushed against the young recruit’s leg.

I yanked my hand back.

We gazed on stopped in the middle of the street. For a moment, I thought it was a cat or a small dog, but it wasn’t.

A fat possum waddled in the head lights as we sat there, stopped, as I tried not to think about what this guy thinking about me touching his leg.

I’m secure with my sexuality and I respect others, so I wasn’t worried about him thinking I was gay or whatever, I was uncomfortable because I was worried that I made him feel uncomfortable.

It was awkward for a few seconds, at least inside my head.

The pudgy little bastard stopped and hissed at us for a couple seconds before waddling back the way he came.

We both laughed and tripped out on the baby demon cursing us back into the darkness.

I felt compelled to speak up and I offered my explanation for groping his leg.

“It’s all good bro.”

I joked about him telling his friend, who ordered the ride for him, to give me a one star rating because of it. The Marine to be laughed, “Dude, he tried to molest me.”

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