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The man came around the corner of the living room. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt. And a leather cock ring. It, and his shiny bald head, made him look like he was in gladiator school. He swayed with drunken legs as he fished for money in his worn wallet. He handed me thirty dollars, took the bag, and walked away, stopping only to grab a bottle of red wine from the kitchen counter. He turned a corner and shut himself in the bathroom.