Monday, October 31, 2005

Super Boy, and The Rare and Elusive Homo

A co-worker approached me last night about how "flirty" Super Boy has been with me, despite his alleged girlfriend. She was annoyed in part by the fact that he spends more time helping me, than he does her, and that he seems to prefer me to the other employees.

I smiled when she said it, because someone else had finally taken notice.

"He has to be gay. He gets really close to you when he talks, and is always flirting! And YOU -- you flirt too!"

I'll accept the accusation, but only because it's true. I can't help it. He helps stock chewing tobacco, something none of the other managers do. To my co-worker, it's "an excuse to be up front with" me.

"He never helps me stock tobacco!" she claims.

I let her in on my secret, and she said that she's going to help me pry him out of his shell. She's going to bring up my sexuality tonight, because we BOTH work with Super Boy. It's going to be topic of discussion, and I'm going to feel him out (out, not UP) for how he feels about gays.

Since he's closeted, the task will be even more difficult. But, I have a way of gaining and keeping people's trust.

I'm hoping to get some pics of him at the party for work. Maybe I'll persuade him to bump and grind.


Last night, a group of girls approached the counter. The transaction was EBT which usually takes a minute longer than regular transactions.

I said something to the customer, like "I've had a long day", or something to that affect and one of the girls behind her asked if I said I was gay.

"Did you just say you were gay?" she jested in an immature tone.

Rearing and ready to play the game she obviously wanted to play, I shocked her by saying "Yes, that's what I said."

Her eyes got to the size of dinner plates.

"NO you didn't!"

"Sure I did." I laughed.

"No, I didn't say that honestly. But thanks for asking."

"ARE you gay?" she questioned (the group giggled)


"Nuh uh! NO WAY! You are NOT GAY!" the group discussed my response.

"Well, I don't think he is," one girl stated "if he was, I don't think he could've gotten a job here. I don't think they would hire gays."

I bursted out with laughter, shook my head, and the audience of customers behind them shook their heads in response to her stupidity.


Where farming and football rules, fags are like fictional characters that came from the city, inhabiting the town. Lord knows we're surrounded by all sorts of stereotype, and some don't even believe we exist.

I suppose in this way, I'm similar to Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny.