"So who actually asked who out?" Kevin asked over a remixed version of a Journey song. We were crammed in a booth that seemed to sit right underneath a blaring speaker. The bar/lounge/restaurant was largely empty on a Friday night. Gordon said that he would give the place until the end of the year. It felt very corporate, like a place for white-collar types or convention-goers to let loose and make hazy, regretful memories. I looked over to Sam, who maintained his silence and held a blank stare in his eyes. Steve Perry wailed, "Doin' anything to roll the dice, just one. . . more. . . tiiiiiiiime. . ."
I guess it was up to me, then, to tell our story.
"Well, we had seen each other at the gym a few times before we actually met. We nodded to each other at first, then we smiled, and eventually, we met at the water fountain and introduced ourselves. He said that if I wanted, we can work out together. At this point, I still thought he might be straight, but hey, a hot, straight workout partner is still nothing sneeze at.
Somehow, I don't remember how, we saw each other in the locker room later, and he gave me his business card. I still have it somewhere, I think. I called him that night, to hell with playing hard-to-get, and we ended up talking for about half an hour, which I thought was odd given how I barely knew this guy, and I'm not good on the phone to begin with, much less with a stranger.
But we did end up working out a couple of times, and then he asked me out to dinner. I met up with him at his house after work, and we had a few drinks. . ."
"That was when he was still falsely advertising the fact that he drank," Sam interjected. Which was true, since I really don't like to drink, but just did it as the price of admission into his house.
". . . before walking to a restaurant down in the Financial District. Afterwards, we cabbed it back to his house, and I was very proud of myself--I did not sleep with him."
That came out wrong. Kevin, or Gordon, or likely both, made snide comments.
"And so we dated for a few months or so before I realized that I just wasn't ready to date. . ."
"So he dumped me," Sam said, always quick with the drama. It's amazing I ever thought he was straight.
"So we stopped dating, became friends. And again, I was very proud of myself because we actually did stay friends. We talked often, had dinner sometimes, and kept up with each others' lives. I ended up dating a loser who told me everything I wanted to hear, everything that Sam wouldn't, or couldn't, say. But there was no chemistry, no attraction there, so I stopped that as well and stayed single.
Months, and a trip to Montreal, later, I decided that I wanted to be with Sam, so I resolved to ask him out again after getting back from Canada. But as luck would have it, another guy at the gym asked me out when I got back, and not knowing how to say 'no,' we dated for about three weeks."
Gordon said, "You tend to like dating guys from the gym, huh?"
"Well, since I don't go to the bars," I explained, "where else would I meet boys? But that, obviously, didn't work out either, and I stayed single for a couple of months before asking him out." I jutted a thumb in Sam's direction. "And here we are."
"I don't know how I feel about this story," Sam said.
"Well, there's no other version of it for you to prefer," I replied.
. . .Hold on to that feeeeeel-iiiiiiiin'. . .
"And it ends well, right?"
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