There is a local truck stop in my area where a friend and I occasionally go. The truck stop property is alpha territory exclusively and a no go for cr...ising fags. But across the street is an old defunct gas station with parking lot. A few of us hang out there and queens have for years so the truckers know if they want to get some comfort they can park on that side. We don’t approach the rigs because we don’t want to be obvious but the guys will get out and stroll up to where we park. Once there. "Here we are then, this is where you'll be workin." said the guy. "You mean... " I stammered. "You want me to be a... a glory hole attendant?" "Yes, that's what you're here for isn't it?" "Actually I thought it would be sales or packing mail orders or something." "Oh. Sorry, you should talk to Ted, my partner. He handles that side of thing. I'm in charge of the back room here, so when you made an appointment with me I assumed... " He trailed off. "Well never mind." I said, beginning to calm. We hired youngsters, typically high school aged, to patrol the shores and pick up all trash, including that floating in the water, and left behind by lazy fishermen.Our goal was to protect our fragile environment and instill pride in the young people for their homeland. It worked. Ours are the most carefully tended beaches in Micronesia.One odd thing we had to overcome were the plethora of limestone piers, left when the phosphate played out. They were everywhere, and severely limited. Group two, you will practise your pas de deux." I, as a member of grouptwo, nod, before following Mademoiselle Renou- not to mention a dozenleotard-clad teenaged girls- to the centre of the room."Nicole, you first," Mademoiselle Renou says, and the slender, brown-haired girl smile as she approaches me, adjusting her leotard beforetaking my hand."This should be you, standing where I am," Nicole whispers sadly as webegin our steps, with Nicole elegantly balancing en pointe whilst Iremain off the.