Blind Date

-

Stairs and more stairs lead me upward. I could have taken the elevator but I really could use the exercise. Not that I am overweight. I just need to stay in shape.


A meeting. No, a date. Is it a date? A blind date. Not that the word date came up in conversation but it was through text. Not direct, but a friend we share brought us together. Our friend, who shall remain nameless, sent us both a text about the other. Not that we have not crossed paths but only in small talk. His name, what was his name?


So, the word date was not mentioned but it was implied, I think. I mean why else would you arrange a meeting of two gay men. I think he's gay. I am. Does that really mean it's  a date? I would hate to assume, presume, something like that only to find out otherwise.


The restaurant is on the top floor. How fancy. Can I afford fancy? Maybe, just this once.


I begin to wonder if I should have skipped the exercise and taken the elevator.


I open the last door. The restaurant is in sight. There is still time to go home and text him that I have a cold or a family emergency. I could take the elevator down, no way I'm taking those stairs again, and go home or to a club. I could cruise the clubs. Take someone home. Something simple. Just one night of passion. No, I will go through with this date, meeting, and see what happens... 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love Story (Part One)

-
Steadily the rain pours in a rhythm that has me awake at this late hour. The small light beside my bed allows the canvas of stars outside my window to be seen while I read. I do not read now, my eyes skimming the page, absently I glance over the pages, and random words catch my attention while I recall the events that have brought me here.   What moments of sorrow are these that keep me from dream and what times are these that make it difficult to look beyond these days?   I look at his photo and wonder if our time spent together was no more than a facade. Those days shared now seem more like a dream enclosed within ironic truth. It began on one Friday morning and ended the same, a week later. The clouds drift in small patches across an otherwise blue sky. I sit in this lovely park on such a beautiful day. Some children play nearby, birds singing in the trees around me, and the daily press before me waiting to be read. The rest of the day open to many possibilities I sit
Read more

Sunday, December 3, 2017 (Series 3) (Part Three)

-
Somewhere I hear the sounds of sirens. It's night and I am in bed. I sit up in bed, dream still fresh on my head, trying to figure out what day it is. each day seems the same when you do nothing all day. I look at my phone. No reason to have a phone anymore. I have no one to call or text. I'm here alone wondering if these bad dreams will ever end.
Read more