Diana almost turned and fled. In fact, she had begun to do just that when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned back. Sitting in a beat-up old armchair in a corner of the room, barely visible through the crowd, was James. His head was tilted back and he appeared to be asleep, although Diana couldn’t for the life of her imagine how anyone could sleep in the middle of all this chaos.Making her way across the room involved more squirming than walking, and a couple of times she found that the only way to make any progress was to allow herself to be propelled in another direction entirely and work her way around. Somewhere along the way someone shoved a huge plastic cup of beer into her hand and as there was no place to put it down she continued on with the cup held high over her head.At long last she arrived, out of breath and feeling as though she’d been squeezed from a tube of toothpaste. James was still asleep - or possibly drunk, Diana thought, noting. It isn't the manliest thing in the world but my sensitive skin needs it. Next, I went to the dresser which stood beside my nightstand but on the opposite side of my bed. I went in to my underwear drawer, pulling out a pair of gray briefs, which comfortably hugged my muscled thighs and outlined the bulge in my crotch which I was slightly proud of. I went into the drawer below it and pulled out a neatly folded white t-shirt which I slipped on easily and decided to go to the kitchen to start breakfast.For me, breakfast comprised of: A homemade omelet, two strips of bacon, a glass of milk and the Saturday morning news. Thankfully, going to college with culinary arts as my major, and a job at a prospering downtown Chicago restaurant helped make it the best damned omelet around. The forecast called for rain at around seven, and I sighed. I was home, single, and with no plans for the entire Saturday! When it got to be around 10:35 AM, I began calling my friends up, seeing if they had plans.
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