Last night, I went to an office happy hour. Antony was there, as was his boyfriend (whom we’ll just call Officer Frank to preserve his anonymity). It was awkward.
See, Antony and I haven’t really had much of a chance to talk since the barbecue incident two weeks ago. We’re about 90 people or so at the company, so it’s possible to avoid someone if you time things right. I think both he and I kind of avoided each other. Anyway, at the happy hour, we sort of drifted within vicinity of each other, without really meaning to, and ended up sharing a long moment of silence (even if it was pretty loud in the bar). Antony broke the ice by introducing me to Frank. “You’ve met Frank, remember?” I couldn’t help my eyes, which darted down to his groin, then back up. (Look, IT WAS JUST A REFLEX! I’ve seen more of the guy than I meant to, and now it’s kind of etched in my mind.) I shook his hand, praying he hadn’t noticed.
He had. He glanced down at his own crotch, then looked back up and into my eyes. “Yeah. I know. But look, Jaycee,” he added with a grin. “I’m flattered, but I’m with Antony right now.”
I blushed. Antony laughed.
“Guys,” I mumbled. “C’mon…” I knew I blushing, and the more I tried to stop it, the worse it got. They laughed harder.
“Jaycee, it’s okay,” Frank said. “You’ll come out when you’re ready. Then you can join in the man-love…”
I wanted to crawl under a rock. There was none around, so I sipped my beer and tried to face them with some kind of witty retort. All I had was “Erm… I’m not gay, guys.”
Sharp, Jaycee, REAL sharp! Then Antony hit me with the Big Whammy.
“I think Craig might disagree with that, don’t you think?”
My mind kind of went blank at that moment. I had nothing. A quick exit was the only way to salvage what little was left of my dignity. I mumbled some apology, said I had to hit the men’s room, and vanished as quickly as I could.
Thanks, Craig. Thanks a LOT.
Jaycee
P.S.: For those of you who want to know the result of my “hand-test” within crotch reach of Miss Reiss, you’ll be happy to know that NOTHING happened (or maybe you’ll be disappointed, what do I know). Unfortunately, this result is bitter-sweet. At least, if I’d grabbed her crotch, there might not be a doubt about my sexual orientation…
