The Tale of Samson & Calvin

Budding astrologers would have you think that boys in November ( and late October like me ) make the most monstrous green-eyed monsters, proverbial Scorpions perpetually on the lookout to lethally sting those who prey on their precious possessions.

I won't deny that oft-quoted maxim since more than a decade ago, I did turn quite decidedly frightful. In fact, from what I hear from my ISO, I supposedly grew pointy devil horns and spouted flames from my nostrils. Not exactly the fuzzy forgiving sort the ruthless Scorpio.

Yet time - and experience - does blunt those horns. Douse those flames somewhat. And lest you think I'm only tooting my own horn, I actually have a tale to back it up.

Just the other day Charming Calvin made an impromptu visit home - something about a twisted ankle which gave him much-needed time off from work. His imminent return usually heralds an entire string of dinner parties and scheduled meets with the local hidden homosexuals.

Paul : This is a friend that we've been meeting up with lately. His name is Samson. Stays just around the corner from us. 
Calvin : I think I've met Samson. 
Samson : Yeah we met a few times before. Hey how have you been doing?
Calvin : Doing okay. Been a while though since we had dinner. 
Samson : We used to see each other regularly back then. 
Paul : Interesting.

Right.

And there goes our scandalous Calvin with his past illicit affaires. Obviously I don't get all that green eyed.

Right! And now you're telling me? 

Well maybe a tinge.

For someone who prides himself on knowing, it was a slight blow to my overweening ego. Surprisingly close to reaching for a leather glove just to smack Calvin for not giving me prior warning. Years ago, I would probably have demanded a written detailed account of each and every meeting, possibly with incriminating photos, videos and receipts attached. Perhaps signed with blood for good measure.

Now I just turned to him and asked.

Paul : Sex buddy?
Calvin : No!
Paul : Hmm.