On a cold, winter evening in New Orleans, Michael Gauge waits impatiently for his BFF to meet him for happy hour. Across the bar, he spies a handsome man, and through an unfortunate series of disastrous events, they meet. In short order, Michael is intrigued. Is he gay? Why is he in New Orleans? His bright, multi-colored sweater makes it obvious he’s a tourist. Is he interested in Michael, or just looking for a drinking buddy?
A quick dinner and a walk through the French Quarter lead to more drinks at a piano bar. Inhibitions drop, Michael comes out, and the handsome Jack Robbins reveals the real reason he’s in New Orleans. Does this man hold promise for Michael? Could they possibly have a future together?
Jack finished his drink and waved for the waitress. I finished mine as well. Alcohol is great at reducing inhibitions, including the ones in the conversations in your own head. I looked at this man, this Jack Robbins. I’m sure he’s not everybody’s cup of tea, but to me he was just beautiful. The pretty green eyes and the soft, floppy hair, just a bit taller than me with a great build, those dimples and the tiniest little cleft in his chin. That sweet ass. I was incredibly attracted to him and I was so enjoying spending time with him. But I was also drunk enough to know that I was kidding myself. I knew there was no way I was gonna be hooking up with him. He had a girlfriend, even if he wasn’t gonna keep her. I knew how this evening would end. He’d get just drunk enough then some girl would hit on him and he’d take off like the wind. All I was gonna have to show for this time spent with Mr. Perfect would be a hangover tomorrow at work. I did still want to see him naked, though.
“Michael, have you ever wanted to tell someone something and you knew it was gonna hurt them and make them upset, but you just felt like in the long run, it was important for them to know?”
Okay, I’d had it now. This bastard cheated on her and wanted to clear his conscience by telling her but he knows it’ll end the relationship. Great. I was plenty drunk enough. What was I up to now, six? It didn’t matter. After six, I could never keep count anyway, and they were all doubles. I knew there was no real future or friendship with Mr. Perfect Jack Robbins, the sweater guy. What is it with straight men who can’t keep their dicks in their pants, I wondered, still feeling my erection. I thought about Jack’s question and decided to answer it honestly. If he didn’t like what he heard, it was a twelve dollar, fifteen-minute taxi ride home to my Garden District apartment.
“Yes, actually, I have. When I told my parents I was gay.” I was looking down at my drink. Jack didn’t say anything right away, so I looked up at him. He had a serious look on his face that I couldn’t really read.
“Wow. So, you’re gay? Is that why Elise asked if you were working fast when she found out we’d just met?”
“Yes. Elise likes to think I’m kind of a slut, which I totally am not.” This was the fifth lie I told him.
“I can’t believe you just told me that.”
“That I’m not a slut or that I’m gay?” I was whispering, but I’m not really sure why. Pat O’s isn’t a place where a lot of evangelical Christians hang out.
The waitress brought fresh drinks.
“Michael Gauge, I have never, ever, in my entire life heard someone say those words. I mean, I’ve heard people say it on TV, but it was usually like a pride parade or a civil rights march or some madness going on. Never has a clean cut, normal, everyday guy spoken directly to me and told me he’s gay. That’s incredible!”
I was perplexed. “Incredible?” I asked. “Incredible as in you’re proud of me or incredible as in oooh, that’s nasty?”
Jack put his hand on my neck again and leaned in close. I instinctively put my hand over my crotch, as if anyone was gonna see my erection under the table in a dark bar. I looked him right in the eyes and breathed his smell in as deeply as I could without making actual gasping noises. “Michael, those are the words that I have been far, far too afraid to say. That’s why I have to break up with my girlfriend.”
“What?” I almost yelled. “You’re gay?”
“I am gay,” he said. Even as close as we were, I could see he was smiling. “Michael, you are the one and only living human being on this entire planet who knows this and has heard me say those words.”
