too short and too gray

On some monday mornings Littlegirlcop asks himself why he left his wife. Why did he tell her? It's not that he didn't love her, she was a gay man's fantasy wife. Boyish enough to run around, play hard and get dirty; she cleaned up nicely, liked to go out. And when she dressed up she erred on the side of glam. And it wasn't really the sex. He was pretty close to dead center on the Kinsey scale. He just liked the men a little better. It was the irish flooring contractor, irish from Belfast, intact, not irish american. Just a little more than a trick really. But enough more. The pattern was there. Wednesdays and every other weekend, when that guy's daughter was with his ex. What was his name? That didn't end well, it did set things in motion. Jenny handled it all pretty well.

Marty stuck his head in his cube, "Chinese?"

"Yeah. 12:30?"

"Great."

It was a bad date that triggered the thought. Not so much bad as boring. An internet blind date. A page of relevant facts, a few photos tell you less than nothing. Less than the choice of a hat and how it's worn. Or the choice to shave or not, going with scruff that was too short and too gray to look anything other than sloppy. Things you can see and understand in an instant. Marty was his partner. Marty and Murphy. More Woodward and Berstein than one adam twelve. He just needed to find someone like Marty. Better looking and not straight he thought to himself.