Black is nice

Jim found himself stretching alongside Sean as the two of them met up at his place and the younger man worked him out carefully, showing him how to stretch and balance his weight so every time he moved, it would be in a fluid motion, very careful to acknowledge the bum knees and hands from his high school years and making sure to take it easy on him. Jim laughed a bit in embarrassment but Sean, to his credit, brushed it off and actually worked with him to take his time and move. They had set a slow pace to run and the two of them made sure to keep it slow and steady.

Jim told Sean, while they were resting, about what he did at the company while Sean talked about his main job during the day as a Chef while he often worked in the evenings at the gym downtown. It impressed him that the young man had saved up to afford a house in the moderately upper-middle class neighborhood and Jim felt a bit proud of him for that, though he had no real idea why he did.

As they reached the houses again after their jog, Sean looked at Jim's workout clothes and nodded. "You should look into getting some good running clothes. Those aren't bad," he mentioned, pointing to his shirt and baggy shorts, "but they don't work for you either. Here, why don't you look at this page? It's off Amazon, you should get free overnight if you use this code. Can't hurt?"

Jim nodded and after thanking Sean for going easy on him (which Sean, again the nice guy, denied), walked back down the block to his house and slipped inside. It took him a few moments to slowly reach the kitchen after taking off his shoes and he reached immediately for the painkillers and popped a few into his mouth. He knew Laura was going to be late tonight, she called him at work, so he didn't even bother getting anything for dinner and pulled out some tuna-fish salad and made himself a quick sandwich. You should look into getting some good running clothes... Sean's voice echoed in his head and Jim placed the plate down next to the computer and he pulled up Amazon.

Within an hour, and the plate sat untouched, he had ordered several pairs of pants and tank-tops that he had seen some reviews on, a brand that he hadn't really heard of but it seemed to get some pretty good reviews for fabric comfort and ease of wear. He noticed that there were mostly darker colors, some reds mixed in with pink socks and white/red/yellow running shoes. He shook his head at the final bill but decided that his health was worth at least $500 that he shelled out. Hell, Laura probably blew that much every week drinking.

With that, he turned and looked at the quiz in front of him and as he picked up and munched on his sandwich, he read the question in front of him.

5.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WHAT COLOR WOULD YOUR HAIR BE?

He glanced at his reflection in the glass window and paused for a moment. His mother had red, fiery red hair and his dad had blonde hair, meaning the likelihood of him turning into a ginger was pretty good. Instead, of course, Tara had inherited the red hair. He had gone for a dull blonde hair, dirty in color, and nothing really of note. As he tugged the curl fringe in front of his eyes, he thought about keeping it the same color. He liked blonde and wasn't the adage that Blondes have more fun?

Jim was about to write that when he thought again and spotted Sean in his yard, the man was working on the grass and trimming the hedges near the patio doorway, and he smiled a bit. If he were a girl, he wouldn't want to be something simple and plain like what he had now. My hair would be black, a bit closer to a rich brown, but black from most people's perspectives. He placed the pen down and stretched, feeling his scalp itch just slightly as the roots of his hair became dark but as quickly as he felt it, the sensation went away and he turned and walked over to the door, picking up his shoes and deciding that one good turn deserved another.

***

Laura's arrival home at a decent hour (if 12:15 a.m. could be considered "decent") was a bit of a surprise as she walked into the house and kicked off her shoes and dropped her things by the door. "Damn it damn it damn it..." she muttered. Jim looked up from his spot on the bed as she came into the living room and after giving him a kiss on the cheek, muttered something about damn men everywhere and slowly walked up the stairway. He was about to call out to her if she wanted to talk but the door closing behind her told him that she was probably going to be in a bitchy mood the rest of the night and it was best, especially for his genital safety, to keep out of her way.

"Hey dad," he looked back down and smiled as Angela peered back at him on screen. "Was that mom?"

He nodded and she just rolled her eyes. "Now come on, sweetheart, you know your mom's a busy woman."

"And you're just schlepping there, dad? Don't sell yourself short."

He nodded. "Well, it's getting late. I got an early meeting tomorrow."

"Okay. Oh, and dad?" Jim looked at her for a moment and Angela smiled and winked. "Love your hair!"

He laughed a bit and thanked her before turning it off and he walked over to close the rest of the lights and locked the door behind his wife, her snoring already coming through the doorway and down the stairs. She loved complaining about him but she could put a lumberjack to shame at times. With that, he turned and walked into the master bedroom and closed the door behind him. As he brushed his teeth, he noticed for a moment that the curly mob of hair on top of his head was now almost a perfect pitch-black color, though he knew that there were small tinges of brown meshed in it. He smiled, feeling glad that he took after his grandmother on his mom's side of the family, she had almost indigo-colored hair, but he could also see his mom's influence a bit.

6.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WHAT COLOR WOULD YOUR EYES BE?