I could have walked out a changed man.
A tattoo to announce my reluctant manhood. Stepping lightly on polished brogues, shinier than a chrome-dappled fixie. Tailored coattails trembling in the eddies of gorgeous, thigh-high humanity.
If only I’d taken up the hirsuit pursuit, for here lay an urban shortcut to such nirvana. By its sheer, brooding presence alone, fecund walls oozing perfumed masculinity; linger any longer and I surely would have birthed a lush, voluminous beard for the ages.
But I didn’t.
I took my poison in liquid form; dark, rich and bitter; and left on a cloud of my own making.
Captains of Industry – From boys to men, since 2009.