The Infection Vector Chapter 3 Toby
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Second Chances - Chapter 1 - Hello My Name Is Toby free porn video
Did you ever look back at your youth and fantasize about redoing it a
second time with all of your future knowledge and experiences? What
would you do if given a second chance? Would you take the path you
didn't take the first time?
That's where my story starts. Or ends, depending on your point of view.
Time travel gets confusing like that.
Friday, April 6 2018
My name is Anthony Demarco. Friends and family call my Tony. You can
call me Tony too since you're reading this. I'm 37 years old, and as of
this afternoon, I'm a divorced man.
My wife and I split as amicably as possible. After having been married
for almost 3 years we both mutually came to the conclusion that we were
no longer the right fit for each other. She claimed I never really
loved her and I only settled down with her because she was the longest
relationship I had prior to proposing. I denied that accusation until
the end. But a part of me wondered if she was right. Months after the
wedding, the excitement started to fade and we realized we were
different people heading in different directions. After the constant
fights, there was a point where I stopped trying and the romance faded.
I mean, we've been separated for a while and I knew this was coming,
but it still hurts.
I've always been more interested in my career. I'm a web designer for a
local consulting company building applications for various non-tech
companies. I actually love what I do. It's been my hobby since I was a
teenager. My only regret is that I work for someone else instead of
myself. As such, I'm overworked and underpaid, and I've certainly been
passed over for more than one promotion because I'm not out kissing up
to upper management. There is a "game" to be played in "Corporate
America", and I refuse to play it.
When my marriage started crumbling, I buried my head into my work,
which only made it crumble even faster. Today I signed the divorce
papers.
I walked into my quiet house, threw down my keys and unopened mail, and
fell down on the sole sofa in the living room. The house is quiet
except for the hum of the heat. Pulling out my cell phone from my back
pocket, I start to check my missed voicemails from the day.
"Hi Tony, it's mom. I'm just calling to see how you're doing. With all
that is going on maybe you should take some time off to come visit. Me
and Dad haven't seen you in a long time."
- Next Message -
"Hey man, It's Ron. Just checking up on you. Why don't we get together
for drinks. Just us guys. Give me a call back."
- End of Messages -
I didn't feel like calling either back right now. I was not looking
forward the inevitable guilt trip my mom is going to put on me. I
already know the failed marriage is my fault. I didn't need her rubbing
it in. I'm a grown-ass man. I don't need to run back to my parents when
my social life crashes and burns. As for Ron, my best friend, I didn't
feel like driving the 40 minutes to his house right now. I wanted to
wallow in my own self-pity. I reached over to check the mail. Bill,
Junk, Bill, Circular. I got up to the kitchen and deposited them in the
trash.
I turned to the fridge to fish out a beer. My fridge was practically
empty. My wife hasn't lived here here in 3 months, so I wasn't
expecting a full fridge. I hadn't been to the store in at least a week.
I thought there was some left over pizza in there. I guess I ate that
last night. I was out of leftovers; out of beer. "Wonderful" I mumbled
to myself, closing the fridge door.
When I closed the fridge door, a piece of card-stock fell down from the
top of the fridge. It must've been moved off the front of the fridge
during my wife's move and shoved up top. It was an postcard invitation
to my high school reunion. It was adored with a red and black picture
of my High School Mascot - the Bull.
"It's Reunion Time!" the fancy text read. "The Class of 1998 officially
invites you to our 20th High School Reunion." The date read, "Saturday,
April 7th, 2018." That's tomorrow!
I recalled actually RSVP'ing to this months ago. Before my separation
with my wife. I was actually looking forward to going to this with my
wife in tow. "Well, there goes those plans!" I mumbled to myself.
Aside from my younger sister Cindy, the only person from High School I
really kept in touch with was Ron. Everyone else I could care less
about. I wasn't very popular in high school. I was very much an
introvert with one or two friends. Granted I was in the marching band,
and Rob had peer pressured me into playing JV Tennis, but that was it.
I never went to parties. I never had a girlfriend. Never dated. I
barely went to the prom - and I remembered it was awkward and I didn't
enjoy it.
Despite not caring what those people from 20 years ago thought about
me, there was a part of me that wanted to show up with a great job and
a loving wife to show all of those losers that I turned out pretty
cool. Well I certainly wasn't going to go stag now.
"OK," I told myself. "Dinner Time. I could either order pizza for the
2nd time this week and Netflix and chill with myself, or I could go out
to the pub and try to redeem my Friday night." I chose the latter. Only
because I was out of beer too.
* * *
I walked into the local pub. It was a small hole in the wall I started
coming to with my wife when we first moved here. They serve pretty good
burgers and some nights had live entertainment. Tonight I was just
looking for dinner and a drink.
I took an open seat at the bar far away from everyone else. I looked
around, and there were definitely people at tables eating and enjoying
each other company. Near the front right where I walked in, there was a
few high school looking guys testing musical equipment. Great. I
must've come during teen-night or something. A couple of bangs on a
drunk and some strums of the guitars to test the volume. Maybe this was
a bad idea.
I flagged the bartender. A 20 something woman with green hair and green
lipstick walked over. "What can I do for you?" she asked.
"I'll have that IPA on tap. And a shot of whiskey," I responded. "Plus
I was going to get a bacon cheese burger, lettuce tomatoes, Cooked
Medium."
"Sure thing," she replied.
As she walked away to put my order in, a group of teenagers walked into
the restaurant. A mix of guys and girls gathered around the 2 guys
setting up. High-fives and fist bumps. Clearly they knew each other.
The TVs were tuned to ESPN and CNN. I wasn't interested in any spring
sports, and CNN just had politics on. Our President said something
stupid and the other political party was furious. It's almost as if CNN
is just playing repeats every day.
My beer and shot arrived at that moment. I picked up the shot glass,
tapped the bar-top with the glass and downed it.
The band started to play a cover of a Chainsmokers song and the teens
in the front cheered. I ate the burger and while glancing up at the TV
on the wall seeing if there's anything new up there.
ESPN was talking about the up and coming NFL draft in a few week and
the various college prospects. Having been raised in New Jersey, I was
a New York Giants fan, so I had my favorites on who they should pick.
The experts had differing opinions.
I washed the burger down with my beer.
I glanced back to the teens. They were nothing but smiles. There was
one couple holding hands as if this was their date night. One guy was
playing on his phone. Another guy was using his phone to video record
the performance. One girl was just staring at the lead singer lost in
her own world. The lead singer was definitely starring back at her as
if he was singing directly to her.
I made eye contact with the bartender who was delivering a tray of
sodas to the teens. I made a scribble motion on my hand to indicate I
wanted the check. She came by shortly with the bill and I handed her my
credit card.
"I didn't expect it to be teen night," I said to the bartender.
"Yeah," she said, "typically we'd have them in here during the week,
but the schedule got a little messed up. They seem to behaving
themselves. This seems to be one of the better bands anyway."
"Well, at least they're having more fun than I am," I stated.
"Whoa," she said, "was my service that bad?"
Realizing I had just insulted her, I back tracked. "Oh no. That's not
what I mean at all. I'm just having a bad day. Was hoping for just a
little quite time."
"I see," said said about to turn away.
I felt stupid as if I had to explain myself and I continued. "I mean
look at them. Not a care in the world. The girl and the singer are
clearly eye fucking in public!"
She turned back towards me with her eye brow raised. Clearly I just
spewed word vommit. Maybe this is why I have a hard time talking to
people.
"Envious?" she stated.
"Pardon?" I replied.
"You're stuck in a rut," she continued, "and you're envious of that
group of there having fun. Didn't you do the same thing when you were
there age?"
"Well was in a rut then too. Just seeing them, is bring back some
memories of when I was them. It was a frustrating time for me."
"Well, Teenagers are horny and in a perpetual state of frustration.
What made you any different?"
"I was an introvert. I wanted to socialize. I just couldn't. I was
paralyzed from saying the right thing and putting myself out there. I
rarely took risks. I settled on what was comfortable. I was comfortable
staying on the sidelines."
She didn't say anything and let me continue.
"Maybe if I did things differently I wouldn't be in such a rut today.
Man, if I could do it all over again - with the last 20 years of
experience - things would be different."
"Oh really?" She was intrigued. "What would you do differently?"
"Oh I'd be more outgoing."
"You actually seem outgoing to me right now" She said. "You're clearly
lacking confidence from whatever bad day you had. Are you sure you're
as introverted as you're saying?"
"Well, I slowly started coming out of my shell during and after
college. I found a group of friends that pushed me out of my shell. I
got a job, and money. I was pressured into joining my company softball
team. That's where I met my wife - I mean ex-wife. I really didn't date
anyone until I met her a few years ago. I was just too introverted and
too concerned with how people viewed me to take risks."
"So Mr. Outgoing." she said moving closer to me. "If you had to do it
all over again, what would you do differently?"
It took me a moment to think. But I knew the answer. "I wanted to date
more. Join more things. Go to parties. Put myself out there. Enjoy my
youth. Somewhere inside me there's a 17 year old screaming that he
missed out on.. something..." I let my voice trail off and I glanced
back at the teens.
There was silence for a few moments, and the bartender walked away with
a smile.
"Dammit Tony," I thought to myself. "You just spilled your guts to a
woman you just met. Can you be any less awkward?"
The bartender came back with another shot. This shot glass has a neon
pink drink in it. "This one is on the house," she offered.
I moved my head closer to the glass and starred at the liquid. "What is
it?"
"Just a little pick me up for times like these. My own recipe," she
stated and walked away.
I turned back to the shot, and picked it up. "Cheers!" I said as I
downed it. It was fruity. I reminded me of a tropical drink, but I
couldn't quite place what drink it was. I hope it wasn't tequila.
The bartender returned with my credit card and receipt without saying
any more words. I scribbled my signature and left her a good tip as
well. I walked out of the restaurant the same way I came, passing the
group of teenagers and the band members who were laughing and smiling
and jamming out to a new song.
I didn't know what was in that shot, but by time I walked through the
front door of my house, I was woozy. I started disrobing my clothes and
crawled into bed with just my boxer shorts on. It didn't take but a few
minutes to completely fall pass out.
* * *
My alarm was buzzing.
Wait, that's not right. My cell phone's alarm isn't a buzzer.
The buzzing is coming from my left side, so I roll over and see what it
is. I slowly open my eyes a little bit, and I see red LED lights
displaying "5:45". I kick my feet out of bed to reach it and turn it
off. After fiddling with the clock and pressing a few buttons, I find
the one that silences the alarm.
Now that the buzzing is over I sit back on the edge of the bed for a
moment and try to catch my bearings. There's a hair in my mouth. I blow
it out and wipe my face.
The room is dark except for faint street lights coming from the window
behind me. I see the slight outline of the room.
This is wrong. But familiar. I reach back under the pillow for my
cellphone to shine the flash light but I feel nothing under the pillow.
This almost resembles my childhood bedroom back home. But that's
impossible. I got out of bed and run where I believe the light switch
to be near the door.
The light is blinding. As my eyes adjust I look around to inspect my
surroundings.
This does look like my child hood room. Almost. The placement of the
bed and night stand. The closet. The model of the USS Enterprise on the
shelf. But the walls are purple instead of blue. Instead of a tall
dresser in the corner, is a wide dresser with an attached mirror. The
disheveled comforter on the bed is a grey and purple pattern. The rug
is a newer pastel blue instead of the worn green shag carpet that my
parents never replaced for me.
This can't be my parent's house. My parents moved away 15 years ago.
"This isn't right. Where am I?" I mumble to myself. "I have to get out
of here," as I walk around the room to see if I can find my clothes. I
know I left them on the floor last night. I get on my hands and knees
and notice something else.
What am I wearing?
Speaking of cloths. I clearly remember going to sleep in boxers, yet
I'm wearing a t-shirt. I look down to examine it. Instantly I noticed
two bumps protruding out my gray t-shirt.
I grabbed them and I realized this is indeed my chest.
"Boobs?"
I rushed to that dresser mirror and looked in it. Staring back at me
was a teenage girl with shocked expression.
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