"I didn't look at the boys at the other table as I returned to my seat. I could hear them talking."See, even the pizza man thinks he looks like a gir.... He gave him one of those dolls."Mom was almost finished with her pizza. I put the doll on the table, as far from me as I could. I started to eat the ices so fast that I got a major pain between my eyes. I just wanted to get out of there. I guess Mom noticed my face screw up."You don't have to rush. You can carry your ices with you." Ok. In a way, I felt kind of guilty about it myself. God knows I would have liked to have been a better defensive player. I would have liked to take the field every day at second base, and become Miguel Tejada's regular double-play partner.And my respect for Joe DiMaggio was immense. I honestly believe that, if the pennant race hadn't been so heated, I might have considered tanking the streak and leaving it as a tie at 56 straight. It would have been a tie that might last forever. It isn't often. That was the last time I tried that. Even the gentle massage felt incredible in my current state, and for now I'd have to settle for just that until we got back to his place and he could give me what we both wanted. Although by that time there was certain to be a wet spot on this seat. Not that he'd mind too much. * When we got back to Zeke's apartment I nearly shoved him inside and slammed the door behind us. Making sure it was locked up tightly, I turned around and nearly ran into his. I left the lights on, to induce people to come back sooner or later.We adjourned to the room with the window that looks out but you can't look in, though I had no intention of looking out since the door was locked. I wasn't really afraid that the other Bernie, the one in the books, would pick the door lock, sneak in and steal my inventory of unsalable old books.What that room also had was a small convertible chair that opened up into a single bed. It was good for the occasional nap. The chair.