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Another guy walked in and got into the stall next to mine. Didn't think anything of it until I saw his foot slowly start creeping closer and closer to...me. I was a little confused at first, does this guy know his foot is almost getting into my stall? I moved my foot closer just to show him that there was another person in here, but he began to tap his foot lightly on the ground. I started to come to the realization that he knew I was in here and might want to get my attention. I tapped my foot. I guess I had this picture in my mind of Orlie as single-parent with economic woes. Probably I was stereotyping her somewhat as some kind of underprivileged immigrant.Maybe her economic woes weren't so great as all that.Or maybe I was wrong about the single-parent part. I guess I'd better start asking a few questions.They got me all settled down in the softest easy chair their living room had to offer, and all three of them hit the kitchen. Soon Maria came back, carrying a little tray with a. ‘Your Dad played for ten years.’ ‘Yes, his career topped out at triple A. Dad had a September call up to the show once. He talked about his experience in the majors as if he had just visited a city of gold, El Dorado. He never made it back up and soon settled into a coaching and scouting career. He was killed in a car wreck while scouting in Santo Domingo. I had just been promoted from low A to high A when it happened. I was worthless that year and was a throw-in in a trade that winter. I was. ”“Where is your girlfriend?”“In Russia. She is doctor and decided to go back to help. Maybe I never see her again.”“I’m sure you will.”“She will meet handsome, rich man and marry. She likes guys too, too much I think. Do you like guys.”“I don’t hate them.”She smiled. “I don’t hate but I don’t fuck.” Livia sat down and picked up her drink from her table, long legs extended, heels on the railings. “How come you have no girlfriend?”I shrugged. “I did have but she left me. Maybe my tits are too.
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