Excerpt from Dinner at Jerry’s
Lawton Lindemann is a quiet man with an active imagination—perhaps too active for his own good, especially when he lets it get the better of him in the middle of his favorite restaurant.
- Inner fantasies
- 17 pages
Dinner at Jerry’s was a sport to Lindemann, one he considered harmless. He was proud of his ability to create a limitless succession of scenarios involving the young men he observed there. Over the past year he had turned his waiter Samuel into a medieval knight, a high roller with a gambling addiction, a 1950s spy on the French Riviera, and a Silicon Valley tech magnate who liked threesomes and more. Lindemann liked to cast himself in various roles in the storylines he played out in his mind. Sometimes he was the villain, sometimes the sympathetic friend, and sometimes the unexpected character that makes victory possible for the hero. Most often he was the love interest who gave the object of his fantasy the strength to win the day.
He was always the top in these relationships, but not in a power-hungry, conquering way. He saw himself as the key to freeing the object of his fantasy to become all he could be. His love partners always thanked him for releasing them from the shackles of whatever psychological condition Lindemann had set out for them, allowing them to break through the mental block that made it possible for them to complete their mission. He knew that he was the true hero in this regard, knowing that, if real people saw his mental videos, they would know it was his character, not the supposed lead, who made things happen. Lindemann was always the key to the lead’s success. He rather liked being the power behind the throne. The man he focused on always came home to him, always thanked him for helping him to become a better person.
There was always plenty of sex, of course, but Lindemann knew that wasn’t the main thing. He definitely enjoyed it, but what he really wanted from his fantasies was recognition, appreciation, and most of all, to be adored.
Lindemann sipped his drink and set it down. He leaned forward and put his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand.
“I think we’ll start off simply with Ian. He’s obviously Irish, so we’ll put him on a soccer team.” Lindemann closed his eyes.