For Whom the Doorbell TollsMature

Chris had just moved to town and found it difficult to meet people.  Two months earlier he had accepted a teaching position at the community college and, for the first time in his life, moved out of his mommy’s house. 


In between planning his literature classes, unpacking and the Lost season two DVD box set, he had no time for a social life.  That is not to say he hadn’t tried.  From an ad he saw on the community bulletin board at the grocery store he joined the church choir.  It took only one practice for hi m to realize he didn’t believe in God, couldn’t sing and that nuns haven’t learned anything from Whoopi Goldberg.


Yesterday, as he was leaving class, he picked up the local newspaper that someone had left in class and browsed through it on the bus ride home.  That’s where he found the ad that took him to apartment 9a.


Will cook 4 u.  0$  Bring open mind.


Clarence called the number that was on the ad, and talked to a man named Clarence.  He seemed enthusiastic enough, polite, and assured him it was no prank.


“Even if I don’t come out of there with a new friend,” Chris thought in the elevator on the way to the ninth floor, “at least I get a free meal.”  He stepped out as the doors opened and stood in the dimly lit hallway.  There were six doors.  He sighed.  “This better not be a it puts the lotion on the skin type of guy.”


Then again, any friend is better than no friend.

The End

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