Net. Let me continue where I left off in the last story.Finally, the time arrived. It was exactly 9:00pm that Alka knocked my doors. I opened the door... and was stunned to see the beauty and elegance standing before me. She was wearing a red saree wand wore a small pendant chain that only accentuated her beauty and elegance. She looked like a newly married woman on her first night. I stood speechless admiring this beauty. While, I don’t want to describe myself, I feel that I need to describe. He was a gentle giant kind of guy. 6 foot 6, big and strong, but nice as can be. Our paths crossed a couple of weeks ago and I invited him over for dinner. My wife Matty didn’t have a job and she liked company but didn’t have many opportunities to meet new people.We’d had a good time, going quite a way through a case of beer during and after dinner so it was smart to put him up on the living room floor.Early the next morning Matty went to take a piss in our small place which meant that she had. It was almost empty. All my male clothes had gone. There wasjust a blue dress, a black dress, and a few skirts. No trousers. I putthe blue dress on. I was slowly getting better and dealing with a backzip. I was relieved to see that the dress was a decent length. A fewinches above the knee. I picked up the red dress, put it on a hanger andput it in the wardrobe. It seemed the girly thing to do. I checked thetime. It was five minutes to ten. I quickly drew in some eyebrows,applied some lipstick,. That character was a real slut.The Hemingway I knew, was a real asshole. He was forever bullying people, particularly Fitzgerald. To me; his macho man act was just a cover-up for the fact that he was a closet queer. But, Papa liked the ladies too. At various times, he paraded two wives and a dozen mistresses past me.I didn’t begin life running a bar. The family had a farm in one of those all-German enclaves in Wisconsin. I don’t remember whether my first language was English, or German. But, it.