Retail is a horrible, soul sucking workplace.
No really. I’m allowed to say that though. I work in retail, selling expensive pretentious clothes to even more pretentious fags. It has its upsides though, namely the fact that it allows me to live in my pretentious Commercial Road apartment through its pay, and that sometimes the pretentious fags buying clothes are incredibly pretty.
For the most part though, it’s just about the money. I go to uni, and so one day I will be doing a highly paid career that will earn me many squillion dollars and be able to drink martinis and reminisce about the days where I worked in retail.
However in the meantime, that dream is just a dream. I have another year at least of being a sales-pleb while I finish my degree. Day after day of stocking shelves, swiping credit cards and doing my ‘customer service’ smile whenever it’s required.
One important thing about retail though, especially when upper management is in the store, is that you always look busy. A broom or a duster is all that is required to make it always appear to a casual observer that you are doing work. This is why Katherine and I had spent an entire morning sweeping and dusting the store, so that no matter who looked at us, we both looked incredibly busy.
“So tell me more about Matt! Was he good in bed?”
It also gave us both a chance to gossip about our weekends.
“Amazing! Angry sex can be so good sometimes”
Katherine didn’t reply immediately, instead she took a moment to stare at the ceiling with a very happy look on her face as she considered this prospect.
Katherine is a Class B Fag Hag. Which although is probably quite a scientific distinction, it is probably also quite accurate.
The Fag Hag is a strange yet vital facet of the gay community, and they come in many shapes and sizes – ranging from the overweight fag hag who goes clubbing because it’s the only way she gets male attention (Class D Fag Hag), to the fag hag who sleeps with the drag queens at your local gay bar (Class A Fag Hag).
Katherine had at one point been this last category, however after a blessedly brief affair with Jacinta Glitter she swore off gay clubbing and instead decided to live vicariously through the dramatic sex lives of gay men – a perfect example of your Class B Fag Hag. I think this second option is completely preferable, because being friends with the woman sleeping her way through the cast of the Commercial’s drag show is an awkward position for a gay man to be in.
“Okay so tell me more.” Katherine said, returning to reality.
“What do you want to know?” I said, not looking up from spending a lot of time sweeping a small section of hardwood floor.
“How big was he?”
“You do not need to know that.”
“Okay so either really big or really small. Based on everything you’ve said about him he’s hot...so you would think that well hung would follow from that, otherwise you’d be at least mildly disappointed.”
“We’re not having this discussion Katherine!”
“C’mon! Give a girl something!” Katherine pouted at me, and then realised how little information she was going to get out of me. “So did you have to deal with Xander the next morning?”
“Unfortunately. Travis sent him off for the walk of shame while Matt and I were having breakfast?”
“Toast or pancakes?”
“Pancakes.”
“Interesting...you only make them pancakes when you like them again....so when are you seeing him again?”
“Well...I didn’t get his number or anything...”
“WHAT?!” Katherine hit me with her duster. “You idiot!”
“I was a bit distracted by trying to kill my housemate with the power of my mind! And since when do I only make pancakes when I like them!?” I poked her with the end of my broom in retaliation.
“Do not make me start listing. I was there when you met Xander, and Brett, and...”
“Okay...I get the point...pancakes.”
At that point, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a customer entering the store. Katherine bounded over to him first, which was good since I was too busy hanging my head in pancake related shame. About twenty seconds later, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around.
There was Katherine, looking so horribly pleased with herself it wasn’t funny, and standing next to her, was Matt.
Fuck, it wasn’t just the dark light of the club or my angry feelings the next morning that made him hot. We’re talking total package...arms, chest, face, everything is pretty. After being a deer in the headlights for a few minutes I actually realised that this was a situation where I was expected to make words...not strange grunting noises under my breath.
“Matt! Hey!”
“Hey. I didn’t get your number the other night, and I remembered you saying you worked here, so I figured I would come say hi. I hope that’s not too stalkerish for you..”
“No that’s totally cool.” I tried not to laugh, as Katherine bounced about behind Matt doing a happy dance and giving my thumbs up. There was then a somewhat brief pause, which Katherine felt was too long, so she jumped over next to me.
“Colin was just telling me how he made you pancakes. And how he has nothing to do tomorrow night.”
I had a facepalm moment. Katherine could not be even remotely subtle sometimes.
“Well that works since I was planning on asking Colin out for dinner tomorrow night.” Matt said to be. Katherine shrunk away, her work done.
“That could be really cool.” I said. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up from your place at about 7?” Matt replied, digging into his shirt pocket to grab a card. “Here’s my phone number by the way. Call me if you have any trouble, or if you get bored or anything.”
True to form, I just stood there a little dumbstruck. This wasn’t improve when Matt leaned in and gave me a quick kiss.
“Okay! I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow? Wear comfortable shoes.”
And just like that...Matt was gone. I also had a date with a really pretty boy. Definite improvement on the morning. Katherine was so incredibly happy with the situation you would have thought Matt had asked her out. If only Travis and Xander didn’t exist (especially in such close proximity to each other in a sentence), my problems would be solved...
Friday, October 17, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Update
What's that you say? It's been over a month with no update? Yes I know shush....I've been busy. I have however written three handy new chapters to my ever so fun tale of gay sex and drama. I am kinda screwing with my own continuity a bit here....and some of the chapters should no longer exist in my mind (ie. the Justin chapter in my last post)...but I will at some point re-organise it all...until then...enjoy a new chapter of Justin-themed fun!
Justin
There is a fine line when you first meet someone, the line between friends, and “friends”. Although quotation marks don’t appear to make a great distinction between the two concepts, they are the difference between a friend who you go shopping with and do social activities with, and a “friend” who you go on dates with and shag.
Ben was 23, worked in the office building across the street from me, and despite having an unfortunately common name among the gay population, also had the unfortunate problem of sitting somewhere on that line between friend and “friend”.
Because although there are activities that fall firmly into one category or the other, there are those that could be construed as either one, depending on your vantage point. For example, in the last week Ben and myself had gone underwear shopping (normally a friend activity, but underwear leads to the expectation of seeing it which is more of a “friend” thing), had dinner at a cafe (we split the bill, which is more friend, although he offered to pay which leans toward “friend”), and had coffee on our lunch breaks three times, each time mostly being spent whinging about work (a friend activity, but the regularity is definitely on the “friend” side of things).
All in all, I was rather confused that although I was spending quite a large amount of time with a very cute boy, I had no idea if I was making my way into “friend” territory, or whether I was going to be relegated into that awkward zone of friendship.
“So your housemate drunk himself silly after getting dumped?” Ben asked, sipping a glass of water
“Basically – as much as he liked to pretend he didn’t have feeling for Xander, I think the drunken stupor indicates otherwise”
“Your housemate dated Xander? Poor guy...”
At that awkward point in the conversation our food arrived, which delayed my response.
“You know Xander?”
“From St Kilda right? Yeah I dated him a while ago for like...twelve seconds. Total skank, and felt that the best thing to do after we broke up was for him to try and shag his way through my friendship group.”
“Oh...” Was the best I could reply.
This is the problem with the gay world sometimes. There isn’t a huge population, and there is the inevitability that when you meet someone, you will be able to hear something that they have done wrong from someone else. It can really ruin some guys when you hear they’re the “shag and run” kind, but then sometimes, such as now, you hear how horrible a person is *after* they’ve screwed over your friends.
Even more unfortunately for me, was the fact that Ben had dated him. I’d met Xander, and in terms of looks and personality he was very different from me, meaning I probably wouldn’t be considered to be Ben’s “type”. There was also the fact that Ben had sunk to the low of dating someone as despicable as Xander, but that’s the kind of food-for-thought best considered after the second date.
“By the way...” Ben continued, apparently oblivious not only to my flirting but also to the fact that my mind had wandered into a new train of thought. “...did you want to catch a movie on Tuesday night? I have some free tickets to use.”
Back we went to that line....dinner and a movie is the archetypal first date, a very “friends” activity, but of course sufficiently close friends could also go to the movies again, especially with free tickets. It was the kind of thing that Colin and I did all the time, and neither of us were under the delusion it was anything more than killing time. I just had to wonder whether or not Ben and I had reached that point in our friendship.
“That could work, any idea what you want to see?”
“I haven’t even looked yet...how about I check times and everything and give you a call on Monday night?”
And just like that, Ben and I had plans for what might have been a date. The only way to find out really was to go on it and hope I didn’t get stuck watching a boring chick flick...
Justin
There is a fine line when you first meet someone, the line between friends, and “friends”. Although quotation marks don’t appear to make a great distinction between the two concepts, they are the difference between a friend who you go shopping with and do social activities with, and a “friend” who you go on dates with and shag.
Ben was 23, worked in the office building across the street from me, and despite having an unfortunately common name among the gay population, also had the unfortunate problem of sitting somewhere on that line between friend and “friend”.
Because although there are activities that fall firmly into one category or the other, there are those that could be construed as either one, depending on your vantage point. For example, in the last week Ben and myself had gone underwear shopping (normally a friend activity, but underwear leads to the expectation of seeing it which is more of a “friend” thing), had dinner at a cafe (we split the bill, which is more friend, although he offered to pay which leans toward “friend”), and had coffee on our lunch breaks three times, each time mostly being spent whinging about work (a friend activity, but the regularity is definitely on the “friend” side of things).
All in all, I was rather confused that although I was spending quite a large amount of time with a very cute boy, I had no idea if I was making my way into “friend” territory, or whether I was going to be relegated into that awkward zone of friendship.
“So your housemate drunk himself silly after getting dumped?” Ben asked, sipping a glass of water
“Basically – as much as he liked to pretend he didn’t have feeling for Xander, I think the drunken stupor indicates otherwise”
“Your housemate dated Xander? Poor guy...”
At that awkward point in the conversation our food arrived, which delayed my response.
“You know Xander?”
“From St Kilda right? Yeah I dated him a while ago for like...twelve seconds. Total skank, and felt that the best thing to do after we broke up was for him to try and shag his way through my friendship group.”
“Oh...” Was the best I could reply.
This is the problem with the gay world sometimes. There isn’t a huge population, and there is the inevitability that when you meet someone, you will be able to hear something that they have done wrong from someone else. It can really ruin some guys when you hear they’re the “shag and run” kind, but then sometimes, such as now, you hear how horrible a person is *after* they’ve screwed over your friends.
Even more unfortunately for me, was the fact that Ben had dated him. I’d met Xander, and in terms of looks and personality he was very different from me, meaning I probably wouldn’t be considered to be Ben’s “type”. There was also the fact that Ben had sunk to the low of dating someone as despicable as Xander, but that’s the kind of food-for-thought best considered after the second date.
“By the way...” Ben continued, apparently oblivious not only to my flirting but also to the fact that my mind had wandered into a new train of thought. “...did you want to catch a movie on Tuesday night? I have some free tickets to use.”
Back we went to that line....dinner and a movie is the archetypal first date, a very “friends” activity, but of course sufficiently close friends could also go to the movies again, especially with free tickets. It was the kind of thing that Colin and I did all the time, and neither of us were under the delusion it was anything more than killing time. I just had to wonder whether or not Ben and I had reached that point in our friendship.
“That could work, any idea what you want to see?”
“I haven’t even looked yet...how about I check times and everything and give you a call on Monday night?”
And just like that, Ben and I had plans for what might have been a date. The only way to find out really was to go on it and hope I didn’t get stuck watching a boring chick flick...
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