By Bearded Mike
This is a true account of a chance meeting I had a few years back in NYC.
I was on a business trip to New York, and on a morning when I had no commitments I’d been down to Battery Park and was travelling back uptown by bus. It was around lunchtime and the bus was already crowded – people were standing but I was OK and had one of those side-facing seats toward the front of the bus.
I found myself staring at the back-side of a guy who was strap-hanging the same as all the other standing passengers but there was something different about this guy – showing through a back pocket of his jeans I could clearly see the outline of a pair of handcuffs!
My heart was racing, the adrenaline pumping. Was this guy a cop? But he wasn’t in uniform. Was he a collector of cuffs like myself? Or was there some other reason why he was carrying cuffs? I had no way of knowing.
But suddenly I did have a possible way of knowing. Unexpectedly the bus lurched and the standing passengers were jolted to such an extent that “my” guy stepped backward – right onto my foot. He half turned, looked down at me and muttered an apology. I assured him that I was perfectly OK and he went back to his strap-hanging – and I went back to staring at his cuffs. I was fantasising about trying to strike up some sort of conversation with the guy; a perfect opportunity had presented itself when he stepped on my foot, but I’d bottled out and hadn’t had the guts to get into conversation
Zac crashed for the next few hours with good reason. After spending the night locked up in a set of transport shackles and then spending some time chained up to the basement post, he was beat. It was noon before he hit the shower and headed out to run a few errands for the day. It was a scorcher that afternoon so he opted for his cargo shorts, his favorite snug fitting navy Under Armour Just Saying sleeveless tank and his worn low Chucks. It was almost dinner before he got back and he noticed Nick and Daniel kicking around a soccer ball in the front yard, their shirtless physiques glistening with sweat in the late afternoon sun. Zac was pretty cut himself, but he admired Nick’s physique, the muscular trimmed hairy chest that looked bullet proof. With his two bags of new workout clothes in tow, he headed over to chat with the men and soon found himself engaged in the battle of the soccer ball.
