By Felon

I had always had a thing for Cops and Firemen. This story goes back to the early ’90s. There is a cruise area in a large park near where I live. At certain times of the day you can find men with a need to unload — usually mornings and early evenings. I had made a habit of cruising this area on the way to work in the morning. A regular visitor to the park in a classic Olds Rivera would frequently be at the park in the am.

I had no idea who drove the car. One day while walking down a path I spotted a burly but not muscular man in jeans and a blue work shirt. He was leaving when I was arriving. It turns out he was the classic car driver. I began to see him on a regular basis warming through the woods, he always seemed to keep to himself. This went on for weeks. One night on the way home I spotted the car parked in a lot at the fire station. I kept an eye on that station and one warm night he was sitting on the front bumper of the engine with the garage doors open. Now he really had my attention. I know he spotted me staring at him.

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