Monday, May 31, 2010

Straight Jeff

After my little gay experiment I focused on work. Work, work and more work. I needed the money. I needed to stay busy, too.

Microwave ovens had arrived in stores, including McAlpin's. Giant Amanas flew off the shelf at $1200 each. Since I was the only 40-hour person in the department, most the sales were mine.

Thinking I was good at selling high ticket items, they moved me to Electronics. I didn't know squat about the finer points of televisions and sound systems. The black and white television and 8-track stereo I had at home were barely even related to the high-end pieces on the show floor.

Jeff G. also worked in electronics. We used to go out to Smuggler's Inn, the Library Lounge or 2001--that giant club way out Richmond Road--to meet chicks. That's what you do when you're 21, straight and single.

Jeff lived alone. We talked about the high cost of having our own apartments. Since we got along so well, we decided to move into a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment at The Cloisters.

Our third-floor apartment overlooked Tates Creek Golf Course. The balcony was nice, unless the golf course was open. Errant balls hit our sliding glass door at least once or twice a week.

Jeff was not happy when he found out I was going to Johnny Angel's again. He said he could not and would not live with a gay guy. I vowed to do better and insisted I was straight.

Except of course, I wasn't. Jeff started driving around Johnny Angel's to see if my car was there. One night he came all the way upstairs to find me dancing with the Elite Fleet. He walked up, made sure I saw him, then left.

When I got home the deadbolt was locked and I couldn't get in. I pounded on the door for a while. The people across the hall were laughing and making jokes about the fags across the hall having a fight.

Since they were up, I figured what the heck and knocked on the door. A blond woman a few years older than me answered. She said her name was Patricia. I explained about the deadlock and asked to use her phone to call him.

Jeff let me in and told me he would be out by the end of the month. That gave me about a week to find a roommate. Damn!

Fate intervened. Linda was looking for a place to live. We'd worked together at Saint Joseph Hospital and ran around during the Kathy era. To this day she remains the best friend I ever had.

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