Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees by Michael Murphy (namjoon book recommendations txt) 📕

watch Ghost! You will love it! I love it, and I can’t wait to watch it with you! Oh, this is fan-fucking-tastic!”

“You forgot that movies are the work of the Devil.”

“Sorry about that. This is going to be like deflowering you again, only this time I’ll know!”

“You are enjoying this entirely too much.”

“No! This is going to be so awesome. All the movies—all the crap and all the classics—they’re all new to you. I’ll get to show them all to you and get to see them all over again as brand-new through your eyes!”

“Is that good?” Kyle half joked. Movies really were novel territory for him.

“Yes, you goofball!” I said as I swatted the man’s arm. “Did you bring food?” I teased, already knowing the answer. “I thought you Southern boys had manners and always brought something when going calling.”

“No. I’ve been running to get to you! You’ve been sitting here doing nothing, so I should be asking what you’ve done about food.”

“Do you like Chinese? There’s a great place around the corner that delivers.”

“Love it.”

“There’s a menu on the wall by the phone in the kitchen. Take a look and find something you like, and I’ll call them. They’re really good and reliably quick since I tip well.”

Kyle stopped me, hugged me again, and said, “Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Thanks for coming over.” I wasn’t going to lose it. No! I most definitely was not going to lose it! Okay, is anybody buying that? I know I wasn’t, and I was there. We broke apart while we both had our dignity intact. I took his coat and hung it up in the closet while Kyle went to examine the menu—a pretty standard Chinese menu. He wandered into the living room while I called in the order.

When I returned to the living room, I watched Kyle as he carefully inspected my movie collection. I’ll admit it: I like movies. Some might call it an addiction, I don’t care. My living room had a nice big, flat-panel TV hanging on one wall along with piles and piles of DVDs. He jumped when I appeared by his side.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. You found my movies?”

“Sorry. It’s just all so new to me.”

“You really didn’t go out to see movies?” I asked, not believing that such a thing was possible.

“No. I heard my friends talking about some of the big movies they had seen—sometimes over and over again. But my mother wouldn’t allow me anywhere near such things.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Just remembering one time when I tried to sneak off with some friends to see a movie. Somehow she got wind of it and not only foiled my plans but also embarrassed me in front of my friends. It was humiliating.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing. “Quite an impressive collection.”

“Do you know any of them?”

Kyle shook his head. “No. Well, I’ve heard of this one,” he said, pointing to one of the big-name hits.

“Well, we’ll take care of that.”

“My mother would not like these.”

“Well, guess what? She’s not here, and she’s not invited tonight.”

“She probably wouldn’t be happy with you trying to lead her angel into a life of depravity.”

“No, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have much good to say about me, especially after showing you some of the ‘temptations of the flesh’—is that the right phrase?” I asked.

“That works.”

We looked at some of the movie boxes and talked for a few minutes before a guy from the Chinese restaurant interrupted our conversation to deliver our food. I got out plates and silverware while Kyle unpacked the bags. We ate, we talked, we laughed, we argued over who had the better choice for dinner, and I even tried to show Kyle how to use chopsticks—he was surprisingly adept at using the bamboo devices. All in all we both had a good time. After we finished eating, Kyle insisted on cleaning up the plates and taking care of the empty containers.

“Do you know how to do that? I thought you doctors had nurses to do things like that?”

“I am quite capable of washing dishes. I’m rather good at it, actually. I will have you know that I have washed thousands—no, tens of thousands of dishes while in college and medical school. I did a lot of restaurant jobs to help pay tuition and living expenses.”

“Well, I will not wrestle you to see who gets to wash dishes. I hate it.”

“You just haven’t had a pro show you how it’s done.”

We continued talking and joking while Kyle washed the plates and silverware. The job was not terribly onerous, since there were only two of us and the food had been delivered in the usual paper cardboard containers. When everything was cleaned up, we sat on the couch and watched the early news. All too soon it was time to call it a day and get to bed.

Kyle insisted that we not simply go to sleep. In fact, he had budgeted enough time in his mental mapping of the evening that he and I could take a walk in the Promised Land once again before going to sleep. I was only too happy to oblige.

I gave Kyle one of my award-winning blow jobs and taught him some of the finer points of reciprocating. I don’t know if I was a good teacher or he was a great student, but he took to my training like a duck to water. When we turned off the lights and fell asleep a few minutes later, we both had smiles on our faces.

The following morning Kyle was out of bed at six and out the door to work at six thirty. I had wanted to prepare a proper breakfast for him, but all Kyle wanted was a bagel. Without realizing the full import of what I was saying at the time, as Kyle was ready to leave, I quickly asked, “What time will you be home after work?”

Kyle stopped dead in his