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Tink and I arrived at Calgary International airport on July first – Canada Day – after a nine hour aeroplane ride which was made particularly uncomfortable by a moaning Tink who had bitched non-stop about the fact that his bubble-gum pink chaps were chaffing his member on the cheap polyester seats. Yep, chaps. My dad – in all his wisdom, and potentially as revenge for my moving – had thought it hilarious to give Tink a full pink cowboy ensemble complete with glitter rhinestone accents to celebrate our move to Canada’s Cowtown. I had, as usual, reaped the benefits of that little gift, and had the burst ear-drums to prove it. The outfit did however, help my camp cowboy bag a post-flight date with an air steward who had been eye-fucking my bestie for the majority of the flight and had eight hours free for a scheduled layover.
Tink exchanged his digits with his date and we jumped off the plane with uncontrolled excitement and swiftly passed through customs after receiving a very cheery ‘Welcome to Canada’ and ‘Have an awesome day’, from the enthusiastic immigration official.
We grabbed our mountain of luggage and stumbled out of the airport to meet Suzy, our ‘realtor’ who had been a godsend during our planning and had nabbed us the super extravagant condo, a black Smart car ‘For Two’ for me and a very American yellow-and-black Camaro for the Tinkster (yep, you’ve guessed it, it’s ‘Bumblebee’!).
“Well, suck me dry and call me dusty!” declared Tink as we entered our new condo on Seventeenth Avenue, downtown.
It was unbelievable. A brand-spanking new penthouse with floor-to-ceiling glass and panoramic views of Calgary. Not the best financial move, but with millionaire Tink and my whopping contribution, we had decided to throw caution to the wind and splurge.
“Well, Dusty. It is unreal. Can you actually comprehend that this is our new home?” I said, my voice filled with awe.
“I can and I do. Now for my little extra surprise. Come now, my little Porky Pig,” Tink said as he grabbed my arm and dragged me onto the roof-top patio.
“Tah-dah!” he shouted as he pointed to the monstrous hot tub set to the left of the patio.
It was huge. As in orgy-huge.
“Tink! Wow! This is amazing! It’s practically a flipping swimming pool. Thank you!” I squealed as I launched myself into his arms.
“No problem, my Canadian ham sandwich. It’s probably more for me than you anyway!” he winked teasingly, lowering me back to my feet.
“Ha! Probably! What a bloody big hot tub,” I commented, staring in fascination at the neon UV lights flickering below the surface.
“Well, I plan on entertaining…A LOT, so thought I’d make plenty of room. So many Canadians and so little time!” he sighed dreamily, staring at his new toy.
“Ewww, invest in a good water filter, please. God knows what I could catch after you and your ‘friends’ have ‘relaxed’!” I said, turning up my nose.
“Hey! Give me some credit. You know my motto, Wil,” he trilled, looking and pointing at me to give him an answer.
“Yes, unfortunately I do:
‘If a lad should catch my eye,
Enough to say ‘howay, way aye’,
Play it safe, just in case,
And sheathe it tight, from tip to base!’
“Ugh, I hate saying that!” I exclaimed with a shiver, even though I’d delivered Tink’s charming ditty with the accompanying actions of bending an imaginary person over doggie-style and repeatedly slapping their arse.
“Well, none of my precious baby batter will be floating by your head as you relax with a daiquiri, okay, sausage?” assured Tink.
“Erm… yeah thanks, chuck,” I replied, trying to move the conversation on.
We walked to the edge of the balcony, and looked over at the hustle and bustle of a new and exciting city.
Tink put an arm around me and asked, “Are you happy, Wil?”
I turned to my slightly vulgar but always loveable BFF and declared, “You know, I genuinely am. I’m so unbelievably excited for this new chapter in our lives, and to be doing it with you is the icing on the cake,” I said, cuddling into the nook under his arm.
Sighing deeply, he kissed my forehead, and said, “Love you, Wil. Always have, always will.”
Smiling, I answered back. “You too, chuck. Always have, and always will.”
“Honestly, you’re my soul mate. It’s such a bugger that you don’t have a nice big juicy dick.”
Shaking my head, I retorted, “Yeah, but I’m happy with what I’ve got, thanks. But speaking of big dicks, aren’t you expecting company of the glorified-waitress variety?”