"We'll be right back with a look at today's weather after a word from our sponsor," said the reporter on the morning television news program. I couldn't see a cloud in the sky through the bedroom window, so I figured there wasn't going to be much change from the previous day (as it seldom does during the middle of May in the desert), so I turned off the tube. Whatever information the newscaster had to report, it wasn't going to change my plans for this particular Saturday anyway. I got up out of bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower expecting clear skies and the temperature to be around 90 degrees. I found out later, my prediction was the same as the reporter's.

My workweek was unlike a typical schedule for many college students who lived on campus, because I couldn't afford a place of my own in close proximity. I had to take a full schedule of classes Monday through Friday, then hit the books before a long evening of waiting tables beginning around 4:00. It was necessary to work as often as I could just to make "ends meet" a few miles away from the University. There were very few moments to relax or spend time "going out" with friends. To be able to have my own privacy, my own apartment without a roommate, I worked almost every evening and especially Saturday. An exhausting routine yes, but if I was going to be able to take care of myself through my final year of college, I knew I had to go on with this schedule for at least just a few more weeks.

Although my life was hectic, there was one benefit I thoroughly enjoyed at my workplace, "The Inn." It was the permission and use of the large, resort-like, clean, clover-shaped pool in the courtyard. A serene, tropical paradise in the desert surrounded by palm trees and flowers, that hardly anyone recognizable in my workplace took advantage of. It was not a place where rowdy, boozing college students who worked with me would find "happening." I guess the place was considered suitable for "old farts," since it was usually quiet, bare and occupied only by guests and tourists. Seldom frequented by any college men or women "hanging out." Perfect for me.

My pool (I like to call it) has a tranquil sound of running water from a fountain falling into the deeper end. The fragrance of the coconut oil from my suntan lotion, always inspired a dream of being on a beach in Hawaii when I closed my eyes. Yes, it was a place where I could relax, study, swim and soak up some sun without any stress. I called it my "home away from home" and often enjoyed the luxury, on appropriate days of course, a few hours before scheduled to work.

I must have been there a dozen times without ever noticing the pool too crowded. It 's a huge courtyard and many of the patio tables around the pool are hidden or tucked in corners, too. Seldom, did you ever hear or see children. Since I worked in the restaurant department, I didn't know the few hotel employees who I saw once in awhile either. It wasn't necessary to acknowledge very many colleagues . It was difficult to establish close friendships here, yes, but I kind of wanted to be private about my lifestyle being gay and all anyway. It was the kind of place outside of the University and surroundings that I thought maybe, just maybe, in my wildest dream I would actually "meet someone" of my desires.

It was getting close to the end of the semester and I had a few exams beginning on the upcoming Monday. I didn't feel I was fully prepared to do well, but I could also not afford to excuse myself from a shift I had beginning at 4, so on my way to work I decided to take several books with me to study by "The Inn's" pool for the majority of the day. I left my apartment at 9:00 am. A time I knew would be relatively quite there and perfect for a study environment.

I knew I was attracted to men with girth of an older generation, but I never thought my ideal man falling under a unique criteria, was actually "out there" for me. I could see men I was attracted too during my daily endeavors at The Inn, but all too often I ended up only fantasizing during one of my private, quiet times. I never really expected my Adonis to turn up under my nose so soon. The hard to find man I dreamed about was in all likelihood married, of a straight form and demeanor. More toward a burly, husky appearance. Had possibly been a linebacker of a college (or NFL) football team years ago. Have kids by now and preparing them for a college or possibly a daughter's wedding coming up soon. He'd still be working 9 to 5, or midnight to 8. Wears a suit or jeans to work as it doesn't matter, but mainly sets his schedule out like he's his own boss. Especially during his travels. He's kind, polite, good -nature, humble, humorous, gentle, adventurous, intelligent and soft-spoken. He can love a man compassionately, honestly and genuinely too.

Three years passed since my first experience with a man and of the few times I'd been with a guy, I have yet to find one unattached or compatible. Not because of my appearance (that wasn't the problem), but because of my unique taste in gay men and the belief in the number of those that lacked the demeanor. I didn't go into the bars and seldom did I have spare time for any other activity beside work, so I didn't think the opportunity of meeting a man of my dreams was in my immediate future. Except, one day I met "Ted," and to this day my world has never been the same since.

I'm about 5'10," 175 lbs, short curly blond hair and blue eyes, clean cut, of Danish descent with very little body hair, athletic build, but not of strict muscle. I didn't enjoy "the gym," while growing up, but did join in all sporting activities for youths until college. I did acquire a decent looking bodily feature as a result of sporting activities, as well as from moving heavy boxes and furniture often required by my parents while growing up as a child. We've must have moved 10 times to different cities and always used U-Haul. Never got rid of any of the junk either. I guess I didn't really have much fat, but didn't have a big enough build for the college football team either. I was a decent player for many years as a teenager too.

I arrived at "The Inn's" pool about 9:10 am and not long thereafter, I heard the sound of the fountain starting to churn. It was so wonderful by myself and I was filled with great anticipation by knowing I was going to do well on my exams...being so well prepared, up and around early and eager to get so much studying done. I ordered the smaller carafe of coffee, a Danish pastry and a fruitcup from the room service attendant on duty (who I didn't know) and parked myself at one of the patio tables with an umbrella near the fountain. I removed my sweat pants and undershirt, revealing my body in only short blue swim trunks. I sat down on one of the lounge chairs and started to read about math formulas that I wasn't particularly fond of.

At about 10:00, I began to hear the clanging sounds of someone's coffee cup and spoon hitting a saucer and the wheels of a housekeeper's tray rolling along. I looked up, stretched my arms and to my wildest imagination, there was in plain view at about 40 feet slightly to my left from me, sitting in a chair at another patio table was a man with a tight "rolling ball" of a belly, obviously with some girth at about 250 pounds, around 50 years old, clean shaven and very handsome indeed, facing me while reading a book wearing only white "Speedo" swim briefs and a blue baseball cap with an orange "D," on the front. I had a feeling he was from Denver and a fan of the "Bronco's," but I didn't have "the balls," just yet, to get up and ask him where he was from.

He was a sight I could not bare to look at longer than a split second, for in fear of being caught with lust of his bulging penis in plain view. I wasn't a rowdy college student howling or whistling like I see other male students do often for females, but I knew now why these macho students drooled when they did. Instead of acting foolish, loud or stupid though, I just did what I normally did...once in awhile glance over and dream about a quiet romantic time with someone like him.

There was something telling me this particular guy was different, though. Something that was obviously missing that normally displays the man I like as "straight." I still didn't have the guts to look longer than I normally did (though), because I feared humiliation if I was wrong. I was still quite intrigued and very interested in knowing the truth about this man, but other than for a moment of hope now and then, I still thought I was wrong.

After a few minutes, I sank into the feeling of despair because I began to believe and realize that I was failing in the ability to meet someone I was interested in. I began to think about coming to grips about my sexuality and if I didn't do something about it soon, I was going to be alone for an indefinite period of time. I decided, if I could be subtle about my direction for this particular guy, polite about which way I looked, he might acknowledge me and who knows, even start a conversation. So now, I was thinking positively, without negative consequences and decided his anger wasn't going to be that "big of a deal" if he caught me admiring him.