When did it start? It was not when the tall blond ordered a Bacardi Cola and almost spilt the content, turning clumsily on his stool.


It wasn’t the pale blue eyes watching him do his job as a barkeeper.


After some days, the stranger sat at his usual place, nursing a beer. “Your dream job?” he suddenly asked, smiling shyly.


Starsky wasn’t used to talking about himself. “If you knew!” he answered.


“I’m Ken Hutchinson. Tell me about your dream job,” the blond said.


“I’m Dave Starsky. Well…” To his own surprise, Starsky began to tell Ken about his plan to become a cop, like his father.


“Good choice,” Ken nodded.


“What about you?” Starsky wanted to know.


“I was supposed to be a doctor…” Ken shrugged.


“That’s great, isn’t it” Starsky said.


“I’m not sure about it,” Ken said. “Tomorrow I’m leaving for Duluth, I have some business to do there.” He stood up.


Starsky nodded. He couldn’t explain his sudden feeling of loneliness; he barely knew the other man. “Goodbye.”


Ken reached out and took Starsky’s hand. “Let’s not say goodbye. I’ll be back.” Ken turned to go and waved at Starsky.


Then it started, Starsky loving Hutch.







Enter supporting content here