(Originally published in October, 2011)
I’ve always liked older boys.
One summer day long ago my mother took me to the Griffith Park Merry-Go-Round. I don’t remember if it was my first trip to a merry-go-round, but I remember how excited I was to be able to ride on it by myself. I felt all grown-up. Mom gave me enough money to take several rides and then left me to my devices. I think we went with a friend of hers, and she and her friend went off and chatted while I re-upped on the merry-go-round over and over.
The attendant was a teenager, probably around 15 or 16. He had long brown hair and a skinny frame. He didn’t say too much to me at first. But after my second ride he came to me and told me that I should switch up horses between rides. So I gleefully went from horse to horse from one cycle to the next.
I remember wishing that he would ride with me and talk to me. I thought he was rather pretty. I liked his hair…
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