Somebody figured out a clever sort of business builder and they called it the Hall of Fame. The idea was that you would get this tee shirt with 100 different beers listed on the front. Each time you would order one of the beers in your friendly participating bar, the bartender would stamp a little fill-in box next to the beer. When you got all 100 fill-in boxes stamped, you were in the Hall of Fame.
Most of the places and most of the beers were, in a word EXPENSIVE! A guy could easily spend $500 getting in the imaginary Hall of Fame. Since we were all just 18-years-old and out of high school, $500 was a lot of cash.
Most of the guys I know went for Hall of Fame like they go for Monday night football. Most of the girls I know did not go for the Hall of Fame. Times were a little tough and the girls wanted the $500 spent quite a bit differently. The difference of opinion led to quite a few knockdown, drag-out, yelling, screaming fights between guys and girls.
However, the lure of fame was just too much for the guys and the Hall of Fame race was on.
I could not see myself in any Hall of Fame for drinking beer. However, I thought the Hall of Fame idea had merit. I wanted in a Hall of Fame, only not for drinking beer.
I went over to see Amy, one of the most militant of the girls. Amy told ol’ Alvin that he could have all the beer he wanted. No pussy but all the beer he wanted.
Now I figured that Amy was probably a little short on hard cock what with Alvin working so hard on the Hall of Fame thing.
Amy and I talked, mainly about Amy and Alvin not being seen together any more. Amy told me that Alvin would rather be famous and horny, rather than dating Amy. I told Amy that I thought Alvin was stupid. I had no desire to be famous for sitting at a bar drinking. Now, if it were for lying in bed doing something worthwhile, that was my kind of Hall of Fame.
Amy laughed and pointed out that there was no tee shirt involved with my Hall of Fame. I replied that I didn’t want to be in a Hall of Fame for strangers, just one for people I cared about.
Amy looked kind of thoughtful. She finally said that it would take a big man to be in my kind of Hall of Fame. I told Amy that I thought that nine and a half inches was big enough. Amy told me that was bullshit. I asked if she wanted to measure?
Amy got this sort of devilish grin on her face and she went and called her girlfriend Bea. Amy explained the idea of my kind of Hall of Fame. Apparently Bea, who was also mad as hell at her boyfriend had the same initial response as Amy. However, after quite a bit of conversation Bea and Amy were willing to experiment. I suspect that the severe local shortage of hard cock may have been an important factor here. And, of course, the revenge factor would definitely have to be figured in.