"IthinkI want to take the chance, but how? Do I just go and say hi, then ask him on a movie date?"
"Well, no." David's forehead wrinkled under his cloth headband. "That's a good way to get beaten up, so please do not do." His friendly smile disappeared. "You have to decide when to hide and when to not be…" He pointed to his semi-secret husband. "What is the expression?"
"In your face," said Abraham. "It's enough for people to know, but they don'treallyknow, you dig? Get up in what theythinkis their business, and well…"
David motioned to me for a hug. "Oh, sweetie. I'm so sorry to see it on your face. You discover what you are and—"
"—the world hates us?" I finished.
"No," shouted David. "I don't like that word. I never want to hear it again. Ever!"
A knot formed in my chest. It was nineteen sixty-nine and twenty-five years ago, the Nazis were in power. David's vague European features and muddled French accent suggested a terrible history.
Abraham pulled him toward his chest while they both breathed hard. I was an intruder in their moment but leaving would be rude. A minute passed as I quietly sipped the citrusy drink.
David waved his hand over his face, transforming from haunted to a warm smile. "One day, we'll be out and proud."
"Out and proud," I said like a television jingle.
He bowed his head in thanks. "Go and find your man. Say you wanted to return his wallet."
"It's obvious you want to see this kid," said Abraham. "Otherwise, you can just throw the wallet in a mailbox."
A driver's license laid on the bar top from the man I couldn't stop thinking about. "He looks like a policeman or cadet."
David murmured in wonder. "How long did he stay in your mouth?"
"At least a minute," I said with pride.
"He moan?" asked Abraham.
"Oh yeah! He grabbed my hair and rocked back and forth." My pants grew tighter. What if he came? Were you supposed to spit or swallow?I think I know. He gave it to me, and I couldn't treat it like it was garbage.
Did I build this up too much? He was my first sexual experience and Bobby's cousin used to say, 'Don't fall in love with the first girl you screw.' Todd wasn't a girl, but the same logic might apply.
"Can a cop be gay?" I asked both men.
"Oh," said David. "Absolutely! We get all kinds, like army men, construction workers, and bikers of course. So many bikers! Even sailors with their adorable white hats."
"There was a hippie guy with feathers from Arizona," said Abraham. "So yeah,alltypes." He studied my face. "He didn't pull out, so he must like you, at least a little."
The license showed a grim face, but an oh-so-cute man. Throwing his ID into a mailbox meant I'd never see him, and I'd eventually forget his image.
"He may not want you to see him," said David softly. "Iwantyou to have someone, but this young man may want a straight life even if he's not."
"People come here," said Abraham. "They like gay cock or pussy, but don't want a reminder when the sun comes up. They tell themselves it's the whiskey or they were tricked."
He had a point. Todd said he wasn't gay, and he mentioned marriage. Although, I was in a bar filled with jeering men and loud music, so maybe I hadn't heard him right.
"I'll go." I raised my shoulders. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Oh," said David before shaking his head. "Never ask such a question."
***
"This feels like the part in the movie where the old police officer says he's about to retire or someone shows a photo of a loved one. Then they die."
"Hey," I said. "Don't talk about people dying. There's power in words."
