It's a sunny day finally. A Monday you finally don't mind going through. Again defeated by my insatiable need for needless sleep time, I finally make it out of the confines of my apartment and make my way up Seneca street to the starbucks across the street from where I usually take my bus to work. I go to the starbucks and not the bus stop because I just missed the 545 by three minutes. The thought flashes through my mind that I believe things are always just passing me by, after being almost at reach... foreshadowing...
I stand in line behind a little girl and her mom, she looks up at me with a cute little smile and a very disconcerting, almost adult stare as if she is in on a joke that I have no clue is being played on my by some otherworldly force only five year old children can sense. I tell myself I need to stop getting up so late.
Finally making it to the cashier, I order my tall soy hot chocolate, no whip please, only to hear the barista correct me by repetition, as if I was five years old. "Tallsoynowhiphotchocolate" he yells as I realize his lesson doubles as an order to the other barista who is standing no more than three feet away. The little girl giggles her way to a table, and I stand next to the counter, waiting for my drink.
This is where the game began. Gay boys have this little past time we are always playing, even when we don't even realize it. It starts every time you go into a room, meeting place or congregation of any form really. You venture in, eyes fixed on infinity, as if pondering the very meaning of life, as you walk confidently towards whatever brought you to that place. You then find a good vantage point, with eyes still glowing with the Enlightment and otherworldliness that comes from not looking at anyone in the eyes, but instead on the floor, the ceiling or out the window... Who would think that the key to the Tao would be hidden in such mundane things? Either way, there I was, having done this, at starbucks.
As I stood there, a modern day Siddhartha armed with a cargo bag and waiting for his flavored soy juice, I began phase two, reconnaissance. Slowly and almost indistinguishable to the straight eye, my sight zigzags from newspaper to woman on the leftmost corner, to concrete column, to old man with empty stare to a guy reading a book, where it quickly jumps out the window and onto the cars on the street and lays right there as if run over by the truck that just passed by. I had just moved on to phase three.
This happens to be a game of chance... Usually with pretty overwhelming odds, and passing to phase three is the first diverging point. Slowly and carefully, I go back to the guy with the book. Cargo bag, tight
fitting black shirt, freshly cut black short hair, flared jeans and what appear to be puma sneaks, but could be diesel. The thought flashes through my head that I really want to know what book he's reading, only
to be stomped on by the thought that his biceps look very much in shape. I feel bad for half a second, and realize that while this internal struggle was taking place I had broken Rule #2 - DO NOT BE THE FIRST ONE TO STARE. I look up and he's looking right at me.
Rule number two seems very clear cut. However, Zen teachings tell us that the path to Truth is through Paradox and Confusion. So true to form, you have to also take into account Rule #1 - ONE OF YOU HAS TO STARE FIRST. I usually don't break Rule #2, but this time I had to suck it in, the game was on, and as if in some anime cartoon, our stares were battling each other in a show of strength and conviction. I suddenly remembered why I don’t like breaking Rule #2, because I'm so bad at the ensuing battle. After a second that seemed like a weekend with my parents, I broke it off, defeated, and looked back at something else, I can't quite remember what it was. The clocks started ticking again and everyone at starbucks, unaware of what just went on, went on doing whatever it is that people do at starbucks at that time of day.
This is were things in this game get more complicated. Having obviously lost the first confrontation, lines have been drawn and it’s either retreat or recoup. As luck would have it, while I measured the innumerable variables that come into play in such a dilemma, someone interrupted my thoughts by almost yelling into my ear.
“TALLSOYNOWHIPHOTCHOCOLATE!”
“Shit!” – I thought. I had no problem that my drink was ready, but I’m sure that for a millisecond, I looked very disconcerted and surprised. All players of the game are easily surprised, but a master of the game is never caught showing that he was. Had he seen it? I glance over at the guy with the book. I had just lost my second battle.
I think “At least he thinks I’m a health freak” When really I just don’t like milk… or coffee for that matter.
“Thanks” I say to my coffee-making loudspeaker as I walk over to pick up a straw. It’s time to get a seat. At this point, as in real estate, it’s all about location, location, location. There’s no real good reference point as to where to sit, it all depends on what point you want to make. Should you sit close and risk being blunt, far away and seem dismissive? The repercusions can be catastrophic, from being judged as too cocky or too shy. I thought for a second “Judge me please, but judge me right”… I realized I just thought this and part of me didn’t know if it should laugh or cry.
My brain started to calculate the guy-with-the-book’s complete personality based merely on clothing, skin tone, facial expression and eye color. Once I sat down I realized that I had just decided he was, to some degree, interested, he most likely enjoyed this game and was fairly aggressive at it. It would turn out, as I found out later, that I was right on all counts.
However, as good as I am in the mathematics of flirting, I am well known to have poor follow through performance. Yes, I’m shy. I can play like the best of them, but when it seems like it should be a win for all, I often capitulate. And I say this only as an introduction to the end of my Monday morning.
Things happened in a flash. I took out my phone and started typing this story, being a firm believer that art should not only comment on culture, but also shield me from thinking that I’m playing this game just because it’s fun. I’m so good at deluding myself. And so I started typing “It’s a sunny day…” I really had no idea where I was going with that, and I looked back and forth from my seat which was about three tables away, slightly behind and to the left. The perfect spot so that it wouldn’t be too awkward for him to look back this way, but obvious enough (to me, or anyone “in” on the game) that he had to turn to look at me.
And so he did, numerous times. I relaxed a bit and actually did what I almost never do… in one of our glances, as I turned down to look back at my phone (having already established that I was the glance-breaking one), I smiled. Ok, maybe it was more of a little squirm, but it was definitely in the smiling category and counted as me taking the next step, showing that I was having fun. I was holding up to Rule #3 – NEVER BREAK THE RHYTHM.
But then it happened. The tables turned. Somewhere around the second paragraph when the little girl looks at me, I looked back up at him and he was staring at his book. He had a huge smile across his face.
“SHIT” – I thought again.
See, now the problem was not that I had broken a rule or shown anything that should reflect some ungodly human characteristic. The problem was not that my bus was getting there in five minutes. The problem was that I was now in the lead. I had the ball, five minutes left on the clock and I had to make a play in order to keep with Rule #3.
And this is how we come to the end. While I was enthralled with my thoughts I missed a critical point. At some point when I was lost in my gameplan, he had stood up and was about to leave through the door.
Standard procedure would have me follow him but only if he had been looking at me while he stood up. Unfortunately I might as well have been thinking about an obscure cheese making process judged by the look I probably had on my face when he decided to go for the powerplay.
And there he went and walked behind the glass window, passing by me and out of reach, looking and smiling.
"Ah" I thought "this is fun". And I meant it.
OMG We need to TEACH YOU . I know you are better at the game than than...
muah
Posted by: Adam | 06/15/2004 at 02:35 PM
I love this one :)
Posted by: Ky | 02/26/2010 at 11:18 PM