11

Mike Honey never regretted the change.
It made him free.
There was no parade to celebrate his freedom, no celebration, not even a small collection of friends and well wishers. It was just him, his partner and a reassuringly unnoticed medical staff that day. The world kept spinning, but life stopped and silently applauded the real Mike.
Personal liberation gets devalued in this age of reality TV and American irresponsibility. Everyone is so inundated with narcissisms and self-promotion that nobody believes in the inward journey anymore.
It’s all a load of shit
The mouth breathers soak up the spin fed diatribe that shits out of the Idiot Box every night, lapping it up like suckling pigs.
The next day at work, they all validate themselves around the water cooler as everyone regurgitates what they were spoon fed last night from the broadcast. Sips of coffee all around, an awkward pause, then everyone realizes they have nothing more to say. They slink back to their designated cubes, the death-holes where they pretend to be busy and choke down eight hours of denying that people they spend more than half of their waking life with are not people they particularly like.
Fuck them.
Mike got his. Four and a half inches of flesh that validated what he was born to be.
He was a man.
He was real.
Modern Science fixed Natures hiccup. The mind and the body finally matched in philosophy. Jeans looked good low slung off his hips and his soul patch rocked.
Not to mention he owned the best Bed and Breakfast in Maine. Torbins Shore had eight rooms and four bathrooms. It overlooked a rocky beach that was saddled between two large outcroppings and it had the best chef this side of everywhere. Its rooms were filled from April till November.
Usually Mike spent the winter cleaning and repainting the empty rooms. Not this winter, the rooms were filled with rich Liberals. Not the Liberals he identified with, but the Money Liberals that were really Conservatives with a conscious. They were taking a break from their $900-a-plate dinners for the homeless and drove their SUV’s up to Easter Egg Rock to save the puffin.
Mike didn’t mind the business, but these jerk offs irritated him. Snooty mother fuckers always kick started his bad side. Silver haired fifty somethings honeymooning on their Do-Over Weddings always made better clientele. He didn’t even mind the young Affected Artist couples, even though they tipped lousy.
These people just sucked.
His life partner agreed late night in whispers, but during the day she never let her smile fade. No want went overlooked and no need wasn’t anticipated. She always knew how to make everybody comfortable.
Mike had never seen her falter.
He was surprised to see her body almost slump after the phone call from her nephew.
Mike guessed that he was coming to visit.