Ladies Who Lunch
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, Y'ALL!! Thanks to Heather for the candy hearts, too!!! Love, Ran
"I'm having a 'what the fuck' moment," I say to Justin as I pop out my cell phone while Beverley excuses herself to go to the can. I know it's bad etiquette to use a cell phone in a fancy-ass restaurant like Cafe des Artistes, but tough shit.
"What do you mean?"
"Why am I dining with this woman? What's the purpose behind this lunch? I thought it was about making social contact, but now I'm not so sure."
"Where is she?"
"Doing whatever women do in the Ladie's Room for fifteen minutes."
"Is it boring? Unpleasant? Is she coming on to you?"
"No, no, I'm not sure."
"How can you be not sure?"
"Women aren't as direct as men about these things, Justin. It's subtle with them, if I remember correctly. I kind of think she would if I would, but she's a beautiful woman and I think she's used to men making the first move. My sense is that they have a very open marriage, so watch your ass."
"He's not gay."
"Yeah, right."
"She knows you're gay, so what's her deal?"
"I don't know, but to some women that's a coup to seduce a queer. Never figured that one out. Don't they know most men can get it up for a turnip if they think about it long enough? Being able to stick it in, rub it around and shoot is really not much of a win for anyone."
He's silent, and then, "Are you planning on sticking it in and rubbing it around and shooting, Brian?"
"Uh, no. That would be a no. Have we met? Are you crazy? Am I on a desert island?"
He laughs. "Well, Manhattan is an island."
"You can relax on this one. But she makes me uncomfortable. There's something very predatory about her."
"Pot, kettle."
"Shut up. Here she comes, later," I hang up. She's a very striking lady, very well dressed in Versace, very assured. In a different skin, I'm sure I would be drawn to her, but I'm wearing this faggot skin and it just isn't happening.
"So," she says with a smile as we order coffee instead of dessert. "Is it a yes on my little dinner party idea to introduce you and Justin to some of our friends?"
"I'll check with him, but a tentative yes, sure."
"Fabulous."
"So long as we aren't your gay pets, on display."
She laughs. "Don't be ridiculous, Brian. Many of our friends are gay. Nothing unique about that."
"Sounds great, then."
"So you have a son," she loops back to an earlier discussion about Gus. "Ex wife?"
"Current friend. Well, sort of, we are having differences at the moment. She's gay, too. It was a Dixie Cup conception."
"I can see why she'd select your gene pool."
"We've been friends a long time. How about you? Kids in your future?"
She tosses her auburn curls behind her slim shoulders. "No rush on that. Neither one of us feel a compulsion to reproduce." She places a hand on my arm in a casual gesture and rubs it gently. It makes me uncomfortable, but I don't pull away. To others, we must look like lovers. Pretty couple, of a type, tall and slender, interesting racial blend. "Are you and Justin planning on adopting?"
"No. We aren't into the whole breeder-fag mentality. We have Gus. He's enough."
Her hand is still on my arm. She says, "Do you have an open relationship?"
I smile. "That would be your business because...?"
"Because I'm a nosey bitch."
"Are you and Eric open?"
"Flexible. We have our rules."
"I see."
"And you?"
"Not at the moment. Have been in the past. Giving monogamy a try. I've played the ultimate queer stud for many years of my life. I think there's nothing new under that scheme for me. It's nice to try something different and Justin is the only man I could see being faithful with. We just click."
"You seem so different."
"We are. That makes it interesting."
"Do you ever do women?"
"I have in the past. When I was still questioning who I am. Not in years. I found myself and therefore the necessity for experimentation went away. It was fine, but it's not me."
"Such a pity," her hand drops down to rest on my thigh. I feel my muscles tense. I feel my instincts flare. I meet her eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"Am I doing something?" her hand doesn't slide up, or down, but she varies the pressure of her fingers to massage my quadriceps. I shake my head.
"Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?"
She laughs. "You're no innocent graduate."
"No, but that's no innocent touch. What is it you're looking for?'
Swiftly, she glides over to delicately embrace the bulge of my package. I cross my legs, dislodging her hand from my lap. "That's just rude. What if I reached over and grabbed your boob?"
She leans back against the velvet banquette with a grin. "Try them both. You'll like them."
"I like my chests flat. Beverley, I'm not fucking you. I'm not letting you suck me, jerk me, do anything with me. I have no interest in that. If this is your goal, then we should probably call it quits. I'm glad your husband is helping Justin out and I hope this doesn't have an impact on his assistance, but this is a non-starter. I don't cheat on Justin, and if I were going to slip, it wouldn't be to fall into a pussy."
"You view the world way too narrowly, Brian. I need to open you up."
I place a platinum card on the table as a signal to the waiter. She tries to pay, but I insist. After he takes the card, I say, "If you want to cancel dinner, I understand."
"Nonsense. I enjoy a good game. Dinner's definitely on."
"The outcome of this game is determined, Beverley. It was rained out."
She cocks that pretty head at me as she replies, "A rain out means a makeup game."
I sign the check and fold the receipt into my pocket. We get up, walk out. She lives in the building adjoined to the cafe, so I leave her at the elevators, refusing her last attempt to come up for a drink. As I walk out of the building, it begins to rain, and I'm lucky enough to find a cab before I get too wet. As soon as I give the driver the address, I flip open my cell phone. Justin answers immediately.
"She hit on me," I say. He laughs.
"And?"
"And nothing, I'm calling you, aren't I? Not from between her legs."
"You sound rattled. What's wrong? People hit on you all the time."
"This was weird. Very direct and predatory."
"Like a guy?"
I think about that. "Maybe, yeah. Weird."
"So, you think she and Eric..."
"Oh yeah, open, she told me as much. Asked if we were."
"And you said?"
"No."
"Good. You want me to stay away from him?"
Yes, I think to myself, but to him, I say, "Just be careful. He has an agenda. They both do."
"Brian, I don't care what his agenda is. Yours is the only dick I want. You know that right?"
I watch the rain come down in sheets. Such odd weather in this town. I feel suddenly compromised and I don't know why. He says, "Brian?"
"Yeah," I finally say. "Yeah, I heard you."
"And you know that, right?"
He's so young. So very young. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as a headache begins to throb. "I know."
"Come home," he urges me. "You can work from the apartment. I miss you."
I consider that and then sigh. "Okay, be there in a few." I divert the driver to Chelsea and lean back, watching the people scurry for cover as the gloomy day takes its toll.
"I'm having a 'what the fuck' moment," I say to Justin as I pop out my cell phone while Beverley excuses herself to go to the can. I know it's bad etiquette to use a cell phone in a fancy-ass restaurant like Cafe des Artistes, but tough shit.
"What do you mean?"
"Why am I dining with this woman? What's the purpose behind this lunch? I thought it was about making social contact, but now I'm not so sure."
"Where is she?"
"Doing whatever women do in the Ladie's Room for fifteen minutes."
"Is it boring? Unpleasant? Is she coming on to you?"
"No, no, I'm not sure."
"How can you be not sure?"
"Women aren't as direct as men about these things, Justin. It's subtle with them, if I remember correctly. I kind of think she would if I would, but she's a beautiful woman and I think she's used to men making the first move. My sense is that they have a very open marriage, so watch your ass."
"He's not gay."
"Yeah, right."
"She knows you're gay, so what's her deal?"
"I don't know, but to some women that's a coup to seduce a queer. Never figured that one out. Don't they know most men can get it up for a turnip if they think about it long enough? Being able to stick it in, rub it around and shoot is really not much of a win for anyone."
He's silent, and then, "Are you planning on sticking it in and rubbing it around and shooting, Brian?"
"Uh, no. That would be a no. Have we met? Are you crazy? Am I on a desert island?"
He laughs. "Well, Manhattan is an island."
"You can relax on this one. But she makes me uncomfortable. There's something very predatory about her."
"Pot, kettle."
"Shut up. Here she comes, later," I hang up. She's a very striking lady, very well dressed in Versace, very assured. In a different skin, I'm sure I would be drawn to her, but I'm wearing this faggot skin and it just isn't happening.
"So," she says with a smile as we order coffee instead of dessert. "Is it a yes on my little dinner party idea to introduce you and Justin to some of our friends?"
"I'll check with him, but a tentative yes, sure."
"Fabulous."
"So long as we aren't your gay pets, on display."
She laughs. "Don't be ridiculous, Brian. Many of our friends are gay. Nothing unique about that."
"Sounds great, then."
"So you have a son," she loops back to an earlier discussion about Gus. "Ex wife?"
"Current friend. Well, sort of, we are having differences at the moment. She's gay, too. It was a Dixie Cup conception."
"I can see why she'd select your gene pool."
"We've been friends a long time. How about you? Kids in your future?"
She tosses her auburn curls behind her slim shoulders. "No rush on that. Neither one of us feel a compulsion to reproduce." She places a hand on my arm in a casual gesture and rubs it gently. It makes me uncomfortable, but I don't pull away. To others, we must look like lovers. Pretty couple, of a type, tall and slender, interesting racial blend. "Are you and Justin planning on adopting?"
"No. We aren't into the whole breeder-fag mentality. We have Gus. He's enough."
Her hand is still on my arm. She says, "Do you have an open relationship?"
I smile. "That would be your business because...?"
"Because I'm a nosey bitch."
"Are you and Eric open?"
"Flexible. We have our rules."
"I see."
"And you?"
"Not at the moment. Have been in the past. Giving monogamy a try. I've played the ultimate queer stud for many years of my life. I think there's nothing new under that scheme for me. It's nice to try something different and Justin is the only man I could see being faithful with. We just click."
"You seem so different."
"We are. That makes it interesting."
"Do you ever do women?"
"I have in the past. When I was still questioning who I am. Not in years. I found myself and therefore the necessity for experimentation went away. It was fine, but it's not me."
"Such a pity," her hand drops down to rest on my thigh. I feel my muscles tense. I feel my instincts flare. I meet her eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"Am I doing something?" her hand doesn't slide up, or down, but she varies the pressure of her fingers to massage my quadriceps. I shake my head.
"Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?"
She laughs. "You're no innocent graduate."
"No, but that's no innocent touch. What is it you're looking for?'
Swiftly, she glides over to delicately embrace the bulge of my package. I cross my legs, dislodging her hand from my lap. "That's just rude. What if I reached over and grabbed your boob?"
She leans back against the velvet banquette with a grin. "Try them both. You'll like them."
"I like my chests flat. Beverley, I'm not fucking you. I'm not letting you suck me, jerk me, do anything with me. I have no interest in that. If this is your goal, then we should probably call it quits. I'm glad your husband is helping Justin out and I hope this doesn't have an impact on his assistance, but this is a non-starter. I don't cheat on Justin, and if I were going to slip, it wouldn't be to fall into a pussy."
"You view the world way too narrowly, Brian. I need to open you up."
I place a platinum card on the table as a signal to the waiter. She tries to pay, but I insist. After he takes the card, I say, "If you want to cancel dinner, I understand."
"Nonsense. I enjoy a good game. Dinner's definitely on."
"The outcome of this game is determined, Beverley. It was rained out."
She cocks that pretty head at me as she replies, "A rain out means a makeup game."
I sign the check and fold the receipt into my pocket. We get up, walk out. She lives in the building adjoined to the cafe, so I leave her at the elevators, refusing her last attempt to come up for a drink. As I walk out of the building, it begins to rain, and I'm lucky enough to find a cab before I get too wet. As soon as I give the driver the address, I flip open my cell phone. Justin answers immediately.
"She hit on me," I say. He laughs.
"And?"
"And nothing, I'm calling you, aren't I? Not from between her legs."
"You sound rattled. What's wrong? People hit on you all the time."
"This was weird. Very direct and predatory."
"Like a guy?"
I think about that. "Maybe, yeah. Weird."
"So, you think she and Eric..."
"Oh yeah, open, she told me as much. Asked if we were."
"And you said?"
"No."
"Good. You want me to stay away from him?"
Yes, I think to myself, but to him, I say, "Just be careful. He has an agenda. They both do."
"Brian, I don't care what his agenda is. Yours is the only dick I want. You know that right?"
I watch the rain come down in sheets. Such odd weather in this town. I feel suddenly compromised and I don't know why. He says, "Brian?"
"Yeah," I finally say. "Yeah, I heard you."
"And you know that, right?"
He's so young. So very young. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as a headache begins to throb. "I know."
"Come home," he urges me. "You can work from the apartment. I miss you."
I consider that and then sigh. "Okay, be there in a few." I divert the driver to Chelsea and lean back, watching the people scurry for cover as the gloomy day takes its toll.