The bottom space meditation below has me thinking about Marlboro Sir. I feel without defenses when it comes to Marlboro Sir. He definitely has a hold on me. And that's more than a little scary. I'll jump into whatever hole he digs for me. Even if it's evident that the hole in question is a grave. Which is an accomplishment for Novice Bottom Me. But I guess what I'm looking to discern in Marlboro Sir is the sure knowledge that as much as he and I would both think it's way hot if that hole is my grave, it's not.
It's about trust, but trust based on experience.
Marlboro Sir digs the hole, points to it, and I jump in. And that feels good.
But mebbe it wouldn't be a bad idea to find another Sir with a shovel, one who probably isn't digging that ultimate hole.
There's this very hot Dad who works the coat check at the Bike Stop. When I was there with GI Joe last Saturday, Coatcheck Sir and I had some very positive--and growly--interaction. I asked a couple of guys at the Bike Stop the 411 on Coatcheck Sir. All good. Highly recommended.
Tomorrow night, Saturday, I'm heading down to the Bike Stop. Solo. I want to get there early, before the coat check gets busy.
Hey there, Coatcheck Sir... Are you my Dad?