Thursday, October 21, 2021

Petey, Part 2 of a Story in 3 Parts blog post #520

 Image Courtesy of Twitter

According to Facebook and email comments, readers like Petey and are anxious to see where his story leads.

So let’s see what happens next.




           I kept my mouth shut about the second note. Marco wasn’t exactly making fun of me, but it was close. Another week went by before I got up the nerve to check the stall again. I wished I hadn’t. Right below the second message, my unknown “admirer”—or should that be “stalker?—had written a new note.

Can I take your silence as acquiescence? Man, I hope so. I can hardly wait! Do you think you can talk your marvy roommate into joining us? He’s an Okie, isn’t he? Real exotic looking. Must have some Native American blood.

Okay, that was it! No mistaking what “Petey” the creep was talking about now. It was me. And now Marco. I grinned as I took a photo of the scribbling with my iPhone before scratching through the inked letters. Now we’ll see if Marco still thinks it’s funny.

He did… apparently. “Wow! Somebody thinks I’m on a par with you! ‘Marvy,’ he says. That’s quite a compliment. And, of course, I have to agree. I am sorta marvy.”

“Is that ‘marvy’ with Native American blood, or ‘marvy’ without?”

Quarter Miami,” he said.

“Miami? You mean a quarter of you is from Florida?”

“No, I mean a quarter of me is Miami. Don’t you know nothing about us redskins? Miami’s a tribe up in the northeast corner of the state.”

“No shit?”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Damn, now when somebody says they’re from Miami, I’ll have to quiz them if they mean Florida or the tribe.”

“Nah. You’re from a state, but you are a tribe. I’m from Miami is one thing, and I’m Miami is something different.”

I shook my head. “Enough of the bullshit. Back to the stalker. Doesn’t what he said bother you?”

He shook his head back at me. “You the primary, I’m just secondary.”

“How do you know he won’t decide you’re hunkier than I am?”

“Well, if he had any sense, he’d have started out that way. But obviously, he’s mentally defective and fixating on you. I feel safe.”

“You’re so full of baloney. I think I’ll transfer to A&M and make you the prime target.”

Marco laughed. “Most likely, he’d just follow you.”


A few days later came the corker. I avoided the SUB men’s room whenever possible, but sometimes nature demands attention. I no sooner closed the stall door than I spotted the latest message.

Wow, got an eyeful of Petey at the urinals. He’s impressive and—can you believe it—uncircumcised. Don’t see many like that these days.

I’m pretty sure I raised quite a racket scratching through that one because when I went to the sinks to wash my hands, a couple of guys gave me odd looks. As I went upstairs, seemed like everyone in the joint was watching me. Weren’t, of course, but felt like it.

I didn’t tell Marco about the latest message, but it didn’t matter. That evening, he gave me a lopsided grin and said he’d heard I’d been “outed.”

“How’d you know?” I snapped. “And I haven’t been outed.”

“Exposed. Would that be better? George saw it and told me.” George Harris—no, not that George Harris—was a Hoosier kid we sometimes bummed around with.

My eyes bugged. “You don’t suppose—”

“Naw. It wasn’t George. Nancy’d pound him in a hole if she caught him eyeing your butt. Oh, but that wasn’t the part being described, was it?”

I didn’t have anything in my hands to throw at him, so I just turned and went in the other room. Didn’t do any good. He yelled at me.

“Didn’t mention me this time?”

“What’s the matter, you feeling slighted,” I yelled back.

His answer was a laugh.


My stalker was quiet for another week, then he changed tactics. I was working on an essay for Freshman English one afternoon and also waiting for Marco so we could grab a bite to eat before heading out to a bar. I left my stuff on the table and went into the stacks in search of a particular reference book. Took me awhile to locate it, and when I returned to my table, I saw a piece of paper sticking out of my notebook. I read the message on it and felt my cheeks flame as I scanned the big room. Weren’t many people around, and half of them were females. Then I spotted Marco trudging up the steps and coming my way.

My first inclination was to hide this latest note, but on the other hand, maybe he had a useful suggestion.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked when he reached my table.

I thrust the piece of paper in his hands. He scowled as he read the words in a hushed voice, “Petey, you’re driving me crazy and making me do things I don’t normally do. That’s how handsome and desirable you are. You’ve got to let me do wonderful things to you. You’ll never regret it, I promise. I’ll take you to the moon… and beyond to the stars. Sex will never be the same for you again. Meet me at 8:00 p.m. tonight at the tennis courts. If you show up, I’ll reveal myself. I hope I can make it until then without going crazy. As ever, your devoted (and hungry) admirer.” A grin lit Marco’s face. “Hungry and devoted? Wow, I didn’t know you made such an impact on people.”

“Shut up, Marco. What should I do?”

“Depends on what you want. You can go meet him and see if he can deliver on his promises—”

“Asshole,” I snarled.

“Me or him?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued. “Or you can turn this note over to the campus police. Or just wad it up and throw it on the floor. What’ll it be?”

I dropped into a chair and propped my head up with my palms. “I’m not gonna go to the cops. And I’m damned sure not going to drop the note on the floor. Somebody might read it.”

“So you’re gonna meet your would-be lover, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But he’s got you curious, right?”

“Maybe. But if I go to the tennis courts tonight, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna get what he wants. But at least I can face him and tell him to cool his jets.”

“Maybe. That what you’re gonna do?”

His question pushed me to a decision. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Marco gave me his most infectious grin. “Then you probably better not hit the bar tonight. Alcohol might impair your decision-making ability.”



Of all the comments I had on part 1, only one reader answered my question by saying he (presumably) had never stalked nor been stalked. I asked him to think about his answer. Had he never gone too far in pressing someone for attention? Had no one ever done that to him? I believe this is a question you have to think about when answering. At any rate, how did you like part two?


Tell me what you think.


Stay safe and stay strong.


Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it!


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Twitter: @dontravis3


See you next Thursday.




New Posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m. US Mountain time.

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