"The hell you don't. Just watch yourself, or Tracy will haul you into her office and rip you a new one. She's all about policy, and dating customers is frowned upon."
We were only standing in my cubicle, but as she hissed at me so intensely, she might as well have yelled, I felt as though she'd shoved me into a corner with her finger pointed in my face. "Okay, okay. Jeez. I haven't done anything."
Her expression changed. "I'm sorry, Grant. I like you. I don't want to see you get fired or hurt. You seem very sweet, albeit a bit naive."
She had me there. My cheeks heated from embarrassment.
"See, you're blushing again." She reached up and touched my arm as I clapped my hands over my cheeks. "I'm sorry I commented about chatting up the customers. I think it was my way of challenging what I'd seen. Part of me hoped it wasn't true. You're seriously cute, Grant. Being gay would ruin my chances."
I sighed. "You're right, I'm gay."
"Then why be so defensive about it?"
"I guess because you deconstructed my sexuality based on stereotypes. I don't like labels and definitions. I think there are too many people out there who don't fit into a category. Some get offended."
"But yours are obvious." She looked over my shoulder. "Sorry. Customers. I gotta go." Jessica patted my arm and waved the customer in line to head over to her window.
I waved one over as well. I greeted the older man, saying, "Good afternoon."
I WENT home after my shift and gazed at myself in the mirror of my dresser. Was I really stereotypical? I liked pastel shirts, and I didn't see a reason to wear white or black just to blend in. I undid my pink-and-white striped tie and pulled it from around my neck. I hung it on the tie organizer in my closet and unbuttoned my shirt. My pasty white skin sagged in my reflection. I flexed. The lack of muscle made my self-image worse. I was scrawny and awkward, and my body wasn't one guys like Tristan Carr desired, or any guy for that matter. Even with the .02 percent chance Tristan was gay, I highly doubted I had anything he'd find attractive once he took his eyes off my okay-I-admit-it's-pretty face. In my suit and tie, I had the hot-young-executive appearance in my favor. Out of the suit, I was a pathetic twenty-six-year-old virgin with zero appeal.
I took off my trousers and hung them up, then pushed my underwear down and reassessed. My sad little penis hung to the left. "Negative twenty appeal." I rubbed my crotch and scratched my patch of blond hair. "This poor thing will shrivel and fall off before I find a guy to suck it."
Heavyhearted, I took a shower and put on my pajamas before heating up leftovers.
After I had washed my plate and put it away, my phone rang. I could tell it was my best friend, Mel, by the ringtone. His jingle was different from my mother's.
"Hello," I answered.
"Hey. How's your first week been?" he asked.
I met Mel Tersiguel on my first day of work right out of college. I had graduated with an accounting degree, but I felt the need to ease my way into the work world after so many years in school. Some guys couldn't wait to break free of their parents, but I hadn't been one of them. In fact, it had taken me three years after college simply to move into my own place. Mel had applauded me for my independence, although I still waffled about the decision a year later.
"Fine, I guess," I answered.
"Hmm, you don't sound fine. What happened?"
"Nothing, I guess. Do you think I'm flamboyant?" I asked.
"Wow. Where did that question come from?"
I stretched out on the sofa and pulled the afghan off the back of it to cover my legs. It was the middle of September and I wasn't very warm natured to begin with, so any slight drop in temperature had me covering up. I sighed into the receiver. "I don't know. A girl at work said she knew I was gay from the first day. I've only been there five days."
"So? You've never denied it, have you?"
"No."
"You were as up-front with me as I was with you. Remember our first lunch?" he asked, his voice conveying his happiness so well I could almost picture the smile on his face.
"Yeah, I remember. But it was the way she said it and based her assumption on my clothes and mannerisms."
"Ah! Stereotyping. You've always hated that, haven't you?" Mel asked, but I knew it was rhetorical.
"Mostly since meeting you. I guess I don't want to admit my appearance isn't more neutral. But you didn't answer my question: am I flamboyantly gay?"
"Of course not. But it's more than your Easter egg colored wardrobe, Grant. When a guy … for example, you … ogles another guy's ass as often as I've seen you do, then that guy's gay, and it doesn't matter what color his shirts are or how much his hips sway when he walks."
"My hips do not sway!" I protested.
Mel snickered. "Okay, they don't sway … much, but the way you openly check guys out is obvious."
"I haven't done that at the bank, I don't think."
"Just be careful, Grant. Carroll County is a way more conservative part of Maryland than Howard County. You don't want to piss off some old-school farmer, or a Harley-Davidson – loving auto mechanic." I choked and pulled the phone away from my mouth to clear my throat. When I brought the phone back up to my ear, I heard Mel laughing. "Oh, wow. Did you ogle a farmer? You slut!"
"Oh my God, Mel. Don't make this harder than it already is," I whined.
His tone changed right away. "I'm sorry. I know relationships are hard for you. I didn't mean to poke fun."
"I'd almost prefer being a slut to being alone. I hate it. Every night I come home to an empty house. Maybe I should move back in with my mother."
"Grant," he warned.
"She's all alone. She's got that stupid cat I'm allergic to, but I could take shots."
"Grant, don't."
"But, Mel!"
"No buts. Moving out last year was the best thing you've done for yourself. And if you do meet a hot farmer, then at least you don't have to explain why you're still living with your mother."
"I could tell him she's sick," I countered.
"But she's not. Your mother is perfectly healthy and active. There is no reason that doesn't make you sound pitiful. You're a big boy. You can take care of yourself."
"You're right. So do you think I'm attractive?" I asked, even though we'd covered the answer before.
"Yes, you know you are. But I've told you before, I'm attracted to girls, so your looks don't matter to me either way."
"I know. But do you think my looks would be enough for an auto mechanic?"
"You know I was only joking about the auto mechanic, right? There are other professions in Carroll County."
"Oh, I know. I'm asking because there was a guy who came in today who's an auto mechanic."
"And?"
"And he's hot," I whined.
"Oooh, do tell." I appreciated his interest. Mel had egged me on for details about all three guys I'd been interested in since we'd met. And he'd been there to support me after all three had bombed after one date. He was used to my crushes and hadn't discouraged me from dreaming.
I drew my knees up and tucked my afghan under my feet, positioning myself for the juicy details I was about to spill. "Okay, he's built like a tank. Taller than me, and he has more muscle than the bodybuilder guy we used to make up stories about last year."
"Mr. Goodwin?"
"Yeah."
His voice went up two octaves. "Oh my gosh! How do you know? Was this guy wearing a tank top or something?"
"No. He had on a uniform and coveralls, but his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were bigger than my biceps."
"Niiice. What else? Hair, eyes, height, name?"
"His name's Tristan Carr."
Mel giggled. "And he's an auto mechanic? I bet that's a drag."
"Yeah. I guess. I thought it was amusing. Anyway, I didn't look directly into his eyes long enough to notice the color." I had wanted to look, but I'd been too nervous.
"And you say he's taller than you? Jeez. You're six foot, Grant."
"I know, right? This guy has to be six four, and I've never seen shoulders that wide."
"Wow. I'll seem like a midget."
"You aren't a midget."
"I said seeeem. I know other guys shorter than me, but compared to six foot four, my five five is going to seeeem like I'm a midget."
"Okaaaay," I mocked his mocking tone for mocking me, and then we both laughed.