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No, Richard isn’t like the creeps I’ve dealt with.
He really could be a man I’m going on a blind date with. Someone real. Someone I can touch.
Someone who can touch me.
I also realize I hold all the cards here. I’m still in control. Yes, I do have the power to leave. He isn’t making me do anything I don’t want to do.
I chose to show up tonight, didn’t I?
I chose to close my chat room and come here.
And so, with a breath, I return to the bar, but I remain standing. “No, Rich. You’re not desperate.”
Richie watches me warily. “You’re being kind.”
“I just say it like I see it.”
“Then say it like you see it.” His tone is calm as he brings his gaze up to mine, still seated as he is. He smooths out the lapels of his handsome blue suit. “Tell me what you see in front of you.”
I search his eyes for what he wants me to say.
“No, no, no,” he clips at once, as if reading my mind. “Don’t tell me what I want to hear. Don’t try to serve me. Please. We’re both better than that. Be truthful. Be revealing. Tell me what you truly see.”
His demand for honesty causes me to lower myself back down on the barstool next to him. It’s nearly a subconscious choice. I don’t even realize I’m sitting again until I am.
“I see a …” My mind works hard not to be the Master Assessor Zak right now. I examine him in the most objective way I can. “I see a … a lonely man. A lonely man who … is in need of something real, too. A meaningful connection.”
“Yes.”
“Hence the reason you’re asking me to tell you what I see. Because you want me to connect to you.”
“Yes.”
“And I also see …” I gesture at his suit. “… a man with a sensibility about fashion.”
“You’re using humor again.”
“Yes, but it’s honest. And I’m not deflecting.”
He tilts his head, continuing to listen.
My drink is in my hand suddenly. “You know what? This shouldn’t be one-way. Let’s take turns. How about we assess each other?” I suggest. “It’s only fair that you tell me what you see, too. I’m curious what your impression of me is.”
Richie smiles. “Is that so? Want to know my real first impression of you?”
I nod. “Bring it. I’m ready.”
“You’re taller than I expected.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Taller? Really? I state how tall I am on my profile. Everyone can see it.”
“Yes, but …” He runs a hand over his chin, as if to stroke a huge wizard’s beard that isn’t there; only the silvery-brown whiskers of his own short, well-kept beard touch his fingertips. “I suppose I’d assumed it was exaggerated. Most men on the site exaggerate all their numbers: how young they are, how big it is, how tall they are … I also couldn’t help but notice how many male models claim to be bisexual on VirtualTease. Nearly all of them, even if they later reveal they have girlfriends, or never dated men before. Is there a reason for that?”
“It’s a safe middle ground,” I explain. “Most of them are straight, but if they say they’re bi, they can catch the male and sporadic female customer. Behind a computer screen, does it really matter?”
“Right, of course. Part of the game.”
“Part of the game,” I agree, then help myself to another sip of my drink.
He smirks. “But your profile says you’re gay.”
I nod as I set down my glass. “Because I am.”
“How many boyfriends have you had?”
“Serious ones? Or casual?”
“There’s such a thing as a casual boyfriend?”
“Of course.” I chuckle, give him a curious look, then fidget with my glass. I’ve drank half already. “I haven’t … had a serious boyfriend.”
“Ah, I see. Just casual ‘encounters’, then. Is it not what you want?” He lifts a questioning eyebrow. “A serious boyfriend? You enjoy the single life?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“So why don’t you date more often?”
I give him a sassy look as I go for my glass, at once needing another sip. “Can’t you answer that on your own, Captain Not-Therapist?”
“Well, of course I can take a guess. You think other men wouldn’t respond well to your business. Or maybe you just don’t have the time. Or both.”
“Bingo, and bingo.” I sip again.
“You’re drinking fast.”
My glass hits the counter again. “I’m starting to notice how observant you are, Richie.”
“Sorry. It’s a habit.”
“It’s a habit of mine as well.” I turn my laser eyes on him, smirking. “You don’t think I notice things, too? Like how utterly panicked you were the second you thought I was about to leave? Or how well dressed and groomed you are tonight? This night means so much to you. Maybe everything. And while you’re keeping yourself impressively calm and collected on the outside, I suspect that on the inside, you’re a nervous fucking wreck.”
