He was aggressive without being annoying. All sly smiles and flattery and hands that kept trying to pull me into a dark corner. I didn’t mind, but I was just, as is said, chilling, and watching the crowd.
He didn’t give up. Standing behind me with arms suddenly wrapped around my waist he whispered suggestively into my ear “My name is Rough.”
I shook him off while laughing.
“Yeah right. And my name is Stud.”
“No, really, my name is Rough.”
“You mean your porn name would be Rough.”
“No, no, it’s my real name.”
“OK, if that’s what you want me to believe, fine. You’re Rough and I’m Stud. Actually my name used to be Studmuffin. It was originally German. Schtüdmüffin. But it got accidentally shortened on Ellis Island. The customs agent must have misunderschtüd my grandfather.”
“I’m not kidding.”
He handed me a driver’s license from a distant state. In the low light, I had to walk it over to a gas fireplace to read it. I apologized when the flames quickly curled and darkened the laminate. He wasn’t kidding.
Nice to have met you, Mr. Ruff. Sure hope you don’t have difficulty at the airport because of the condition of your ID!