Sunday, December 08, 2002

His goattee is under my balls, he looks up. Eyebrows scrunched a bit, puppy-dog eyes focusing on mine, as if to say "am I doing it right; do you like it?" His tongue continues flicking lightly, I don't say anything, but he hears my confirmation that he's doing just fine. Then I wake up. Sunday morning, got to get to work. Damn. But, Sunday is the day I am most likely to actually see Eyebrow Man, so once I have a bit of coffee in me, I'm perked up and ready to go. Last Sunday, we exchanged big hellos mid-day, then a bit later he ordered some food to go, which I packed for him (actually, when I saw it was ready, I snatched it from the counter, bringing it over to the take-out side so he'd have to come get it). He put out his big thick hand, we shook, and he said something ordinary like "have a good one" (or was that me? who cares, his hand felt good, the gesture even better). That was pretty much it, but enough to get me out of the gloomy mood I was in earlier in the day.

So this morning, my bike chain falls off as I'm leaving for work, so I re-lock it in front of the building, and walk the 3 blocks to work. Going through the side door, just inside, Eyebrow Man is standing in the stairwell, and says a big "Good Morning!" - yum! I mean, "good morning, man" as I smile but continue going to put my stuff away. Then I don't see him anywhere, and figure maybe he's already left. While doing some prep work for the shift, I'm sorta in my own world, but look up, into the kitchen, and there he is, about 5 feet from me, with a big bowl of whip cream in his hands, and whip cream on his mustache. I shout out "Boy, wish I had a camera!" - puzzled, but smiling look on his face, he asks why, and I just grab at my own mustache, and he laughs, puts a little more whip cream into whatever he was having (at 11 a.m., I might add) and walks out of the kitchen. Now, I know what you're thinking, but thats honestly not what I was thinking. I was like, "cool, he really enjoys food like I do, how great."

A little bit later, only minutes after noticing where his truck was parked, I see that it's gone, and just relax with the silly thoughts of him going through my head, and have a decent day of work. But a couple hours later he's back, talking to the manager about work stuff, and I see he's wearing a sleeveless shirt, exposing his hairy arms, and what might be hairy shoulders! A few minutes later he's over in the take-out side, on the other side of the counter from me, and starts chatting. Something about some mix-up from earlier in the day, I have no idea what he's saying, or why, but he's put his jacket on one of the stools, and is standing just on the other side of the counter, and i can smell him. Light, but good, armpit smell. Mmmmmm. He's talking, a couple of words sound like New Yawk, and I'm just drifitng away, nodding at what I hope are appropriate moments. As the story finishes, I ask if he wants food (often workers get their meals ordered from the "to go" side), but he says he already ordered. Then he asks "Hey, you ever go to Hogs and Heffers?" Um, could you name a scarier straight bar in NYC? I think. But I say something like, "um, no - isn't that on West 13th?" "Really, you never been? it's great - there's a few places over there I like" and he starts naming non-gay bars that I've never heard of. Then he mentions the Hell's Angels, he's heard they have a bar near here, and I am clueless what this guy is trying to tell me. Who knows? He's a truck driver who hangs out in biker bars. He's also the hottest man I've seen in months. Is it straight? Is he queer but, um, likes all that straight shit? Sigh.