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She smiled brightly at me. Her eyes were expectant. We got into their car as the mannikin watched. Seeing, yet sightless. Steven, my boy, the man said with a wry trace of a smile. He uncrossed his legs. He was about to draw a puff on his cigar but, I think in deference to Steven, he did not. He looked the boy over and then regarded him as, I thought, an older man might regard someone who may one day take his place. You will find this much pleasanter work than drug running, the man said to Steven. Sorry about the pink bow, but the ladies insisted. You are well fitted for the work they'll be giving you, the man said. He glanced directly at old gay dads Steven's stiff genitals. Try not to wave that thing in my face, eh? Sorry, sir, Steven said. He stepped back a pace from the man. Of course in my opinion, at my age, I still feel it would be better for you if you were in high school doing your studies, the man said to Steven. This time his hand felt a need to lift his cigar to his mouth and he permitted himself the liberty of puffing upon it. He blew the smoke out slowly, ending with a smoke ring. But, at your age, I admit I ran away myself, so I could get a start in the world, and not be a bookworm for the rest of my life.

He raised his hand. He gestured to the room around us. As you can see, I've done well, the man said.