Page 28 of A Straight Line

“Pretty mythological at this point,” I said. “She hasn’t even shown her face tonight, and she seems to be all that anyone talks about. Well, besides Harry and Vic, I guess.”

“Well, you know,” Denny produced a beer from his pocket and held it out to me, “what they say about our community?”

“No?” I accepted the beer with a smile.

“Everywhere we go, we sprinkle magic,” He said with a smile, producing a second beer, seemingly out of thin air, for himself.

We both popped our tops and tapped our cans together. The first sip of the beer hit just right, proving to be something I needed desperately but hadn’t been aware of. Of course, when you’re feeling maudlin and socially anxious at a party, a beer always helps.

“They say a lot of things about our community,” I said.

“Such as?” He grinned.

“Well,” I said, “depends on who’s saying it, I guess. It could be good or bad.”

“Let’s talk about the good then.”

“Well,” I thought about it, “we’re well-groomed. Well-spoken. We care about personal hygiene. Fashion.”

“We’re good cooks.”

“We have a ton of disposable income,” I added.

“We throw fabulous parties, obviously,” He said as he waved out over the crowd.

“Excellent taste in music, too.”

“Obviously,” He said. “We queers know good music.”

“We’re incredibly funny and clever.”

“We are good with a quip.”

I took a giant slug of my beer.

“Though, here we are, drinking brewskies like a couple of wallflowers while everyone else dances,” Denny said. “I think that might prove that we’re not as fabulous as everyone thinks.”

“Maybe.”

“I haven’t seen one single bit of debauchery tonight, though,” Denny added. “So, that disproves another myth.”

“Which myth?” I asked, then finished my beer.

“That we’re all sex-crazed maniacs who will sleep with anyone who comes along,” Denny said. “The world would have you believe that this party was just one big bacchanalia. An orgy of epic proportions. Genitalia flying.”

“Oh?”

“That’s what a lot of the world thinks of us queers,” He said. “It’s all about sex, sex, sex with us, ya’ know?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“It’s just what we do. Sex, sex, sex.”

I looked over at him just as he tipped his beer back and guzzled the rest. I had only seen Denny drink one other beer before the ones we had just shared. He lowered the beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then belched as quietly as possible.

“You drunk?” I asked.

“On these?” He looked down at the can. “Absolutely not. But they’re not making me any less social, I guess.”

“Gotcha.”

“You drunk?”

“On one beer?” I chuckled.

“Fair enough.” He smiled.

We stared at each other for several moments, both of us seemingly unsure of where else we could take such a conversation. Then I had an idea.

“Wanna exchange blowjobs in the garage?” I asked.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He smiled.