I still live in the house I was born in back in the early 60s. The neighborhood has gone through its series of changes over the past seven decades, but a few things remained the same...until this week.
At the top of my street (which runs off a main street, though not too busy) sits a gas station which opened up in the 1950s, just when my neighborhood was being built up. It started out as an Esso Station, then changed to Exxon (in the 70s), then Texaco, then a 'no name' brand. Most of the houses surrounding it were built around the same time, and the building boom ended around the early 1970s, as there were no more empty lots to build on. I remember going to this gas station with my mom or dad as a toddler. It was owned by an Italian man who immigrated here in the 1920s when he was a baby, and he opened this station when he married. It has remained a 'full service station' ever since (never changed to self-serve) with a one-bay garage for very small mechanical work.
Around 1975, when I was starting middle school, this guy had his son - a recent high school graduate - join him at the gas station. So I was around 11, and this guy had to be 18. I remember driving up in the passenger seat, and seeing this gorgous young man pump our gas, open the hood and change the oil, and then stretch across our windshield and wash the windows - usually with his 'uniform' unbuttoned and wide open. I still remember his wavy brown hair on his head, his mustache and light facial hair, and the light hair on his chest. I realized I was gay from the first day he waited on us. (And he was so friendly and polite to my parents).
As I got older and learned to drive, I would always offer to fill up the tank each Saturday, knowing that 'Kenny' was working. So I'm in my late teens, he's in his 20s, and now fully matured into a man - complete with a full chest of hair and dazzling smile. In the hot summer months, he always wore his shirt opened or no shirt at all - showing off his beautiful sculpted chest / arms. I lost count on how many times I sprung a boner staring at him stretched across the windshield washing the glass bare-chested. I remember to fill the tank up then, it cost $15 and I would give him a $20 bill and tell him to 'keep the change' (my mom and dad told me it was nice to tip, but that was too much! I didn't care - it was my money from my part time job!). Kenny would always wink and smile, and say 'Thanks buddy ! See you next Saturday'.
As we got older, Kenny aged like fine wine into his 30s, 40s, 50s - kept the handsome face, the hairy chest, the muscled body. (He looked very much like the Playgirl model Rock Pamplin in his 1970s spread.) The only difference was his wavy brown hair had a sprinkle of gray in it (including his chest) which made him all the more sexier to me. He'd make light conversation, but I was always too lost in his looks to respond - worried about the boner in my pants. My tongue would hang out whenever he stretched across the windshield and showed off his chest and muscled arms. (In the meantime, about 25 years ago, his dad passed unexpectedly, leaving him the business. That's when I stopped tipping him, when he became an owner.)
I still go on a regular basis to get gas from him, especially in the summer. Now in my early 60s, I somehow found the courage to engage in conversation with him if he's talkative. The other day he broke my heart - said he's putting the business up for sale, as he's pushing 70 and is tired of pumping gas in the frigid cold winters. He plans on moving to Florida to be closer to his 'family' ( a sister and his nephews) in November. This is the first time in 50 years that Kenny actually killed my boner. And I didn't realize this gorgeous hunk never married, and never had kids. For the first time, I wondered the other day if he was possibly gay ? Damn! I could've offered more than a five dollar tip over the years !
So it's the end of an era in my neighborhood. I'm going to miss Kenny, his gorgeous smile, his beautiful body even at 70 (he could pass for early 50s). If I had enough guts, I'd ask him to shave some chest hair and put it in an envelope for me - to have as a keepsake. But I don't have the guts.
