We also talked. At times it felt awfully close to an interrogation."What kind of work do you do," she had asked me."Odd jobs."She made a doubtful face... "You can't make very much doing odd jobs." No, odd jobs; Jobs where it can be difficult to find somebody who knows how to do them."One guy wanted me to teach his son how to throw a twelve-to-six curve ball and a slider. He also wanted me to teach the kid a changeup, but I never learned to throw a decent one myself."Another guy hired me to stop. After ten minutes, my mom looked at me and asked, “What went down this evening?”“Sorry?” I asked, pretending bewilderment.“You and Warner… is there something I should know about your holiday?” she persisted.Acting as nonchalant as I possibly could I simply shrugged. The next comment from her nearly blew my head off. “Are you gay, Grant?” she inquired. A cold chill completely enveloped my entire body. Motionless, I stood there like a deer caught in the headlights.“Uh… umm… oh, shit, ma… yes, I. More

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