Part 2: Dale's Advice
I spent the rest of the day in some pretty serious fantasizing. And
believe me, in my dreams Scott turned out to be the best damn lover the
world has ever known. The best part about that, of course, is that the
company still paid me and I did everything short of jack off in my
cubicle. Which, if I had a door, I might even have done. I was
supposed to be meeting a friend of mine after work for a drink and I
was pretty keen to get packed up and out of there as soon as possible
so I curtailed my dreams and straightened my desk up. For a change I
was first out, and was well on my way to the bar before my chair
stopped spinning.
Dale hadn't made it to the bar by the time I got there - he has further
to come than I do. So while we wait for him, I'll tell you a bit about
him. Dale was my roommate in college and we've been best friends ever
since, we always hung out together and I ended up as his best man.
Which is kind of ironic, as I always had a bit of a thing for him. Bet
that surprised you. Its not that he's totally gorgeous or anything,
though he's not bad, he's just a great guy, always got time to listen
and always really nice to everyone. He's about my height and build (we
play squash together) with brown hair and eyes and he works real hard
as a lawyer to keep Eileen and the kids in good style.
His wife is real lucky, as I constantly tell her! Don't worry, I've
been friends with Eileen for about as long as I have with Dale and it
was them I went to after my break up and them I first came out to.
Actually, only them I've ever come out to. I got really drunk and
blurted it all out, including the part about wanting Dale all through
college, which pretty much stopped conversation for a moment. Then
they both stood up and I thought I was about to get thrown out, but I
wasn't, they both came over and hugged me. Eileen is constantly on at
Dale to find some 'nice man' at work and bring him home for me.
Thankfully he's resisted so far. How awkward would that be? But he's
always there for me, I've lost track of how many nights we've sat up
getting drunk, him listening and me yapping about how awful it is to be
me. A true friend, in other words.
"Hey, late again, sorry, bud! Only a half hour this time!" He said
checking his watch as he walked over to me. "What're you drinking?"
I realized I'd been standing there for about twenty minutes and I hadn't
even ordered myself a drink. My mind must've wandered. "Scotch."
"The hard stuff, huh? Tough day at work?" He signaled to get the
bartender's attention. I have zero bar presence, I can be the only one
there and never get served. Dale can walk into a place, standing room
only, and have a tray of drinks in ten seconds flat. "Wanna tell me
about it?" He said loosening his tie as the drinks were poured.
"Work was fine. Better than fine in fact. Cheers." I took a big
swallow of the whisky, good old Dale, he'd bought the good stuff.
"And I'm the tooth fairy, Mikey, c'mon spill. You know I can always
tell when you're lying. Don't make me pour the whole bottle in you to
get the information." He had a point, not that a few more drinks would
hurt.
"Eileen would be ecstatic if you did that! If we show up to dinner
absolutely out of our minds on Scotch she'll skin you alive."
"That's my problem, so tell me about this better than fine day of yours,
and explain how come it ended with your bottom lip down round your
ankles."
I hadn't been aware of being depressed when I came in here, but now I
really was. And even if I could somehow manage to lie to Dale, I
couldn't lie to myself (though sometimes that's much easier), I knew
exactly what was wrong. "I met this guy at work today."
"No kidding? Maybe we should go get a booth, huh?" He steered me
across the bar to a booth that was just emptying and we slid into the
seats. "So, what's his name? What's he like? When are you guys going
out? Why don't you bring him round to our place for dinner?"
"It's not that simple, Dale."
"Sure it is, you just like to complicate stuff. You like him, he likes
you, bingo. That's all you need at this stage. Who knows if he's your
soul mate? Who cares? If you never go on a first date, you'll never
go on a second. Am I right? Well?"
"Yeah, you're right. But first we're not going on a first date, I don't
even know if he's, you know."
"Gay." Not a question, not from Dale. He never lets me get away with
dodging round stuff.
"Yeah, I don't know if he's gay. And even if he is, why would he be
interested in me. You didn't see this guy, Dale." I sighed, why would
he be interested in me? Why would any guy be interested in someone
like me? What could a dyed in the wool closet case like me possibly
have to offer, even assuming I could get up the courage to talk, you
know TALK, to a guy?
"Well, did you ask him?"
"No! Of course I didn't! Hi Scott, the broken copier's right there,
but before you get started, can I just ask if you're gay? Oh, and
single? Yeah, right. Come on Dale." I told him the whole story about
Scott's visit to the office, leaving nothing out, including me falling
on him (which Dale thought was hilarious - thanks, pal!) and the
extended handshake and the funny look he gave me. When I was finished
I was more depressed than when I began.
"So he's a copy repair guy. Have you seen him before?"
"No, it's a different guy every time. Here's his card, I might as well
rip it up and forget about the whole thing, its no use to me." I
handed him the card Scott had given me earlier and which I had been
playing with when Dale arrived.
"Scott Logan, huh? You always deal with his firm?"
"Yeah. Why?" I couldn't see where this was going.
"What firm is that, because this card doesn't actually say? And I'm
willing to bet that no other copier guy you've dealt with ever gave you
their card, am I right?"
"Yeah, I always just call their office number, and they send whoever's
available or nearest." I was beginning to see what Dale was driving
at.
"Want my advice? Jam that damn thing again and call him. If he makes
excuses or someone else comes, forget about it. If he comes himself
then I say throw that boy down on the copier and kiss him tell he
doesn't know which way is up." I burst out laughing, Dale has a knack
of making everything sound so damn easy, even absurd things like that!
Even though I knew there was no way on earth I was taking Dale's advice
on this one, I found myself feeling a lot better. I slammed down my
scotch and stood up.
"We should get going, Eileen is expecting us."
"You are indeed the sultan of segue, Mikey! This conversation is not
over, just on hold. Remember that."
We didn't say a lot on the drive over to his place. Mainly because I
was following him in my car! When we got there, Eileen was in the
kitchen and the kids (twin girls, five years old and so adorable!) were
watching TV. We were just in time, nothing was burnt, so we sat
straight down to dinner and the subject of my godlike repair man was
forgotten. Or so I hoped. After we ate, Dale took the girls upstairs
while Eileen and I settled into the sofa with the rest of the wine and
chatted about nothing much until he came back.
"Pour me some of that wine, you souse!" He kicked me in the shin and
held out his glass. "So did Mikey tell you he met a guy today?"
"Daaaaaaale!" I whined. I should've known he wouldn't let it lie.
"No he did not. Bad boy!" Eileen hit my arm in mock outrage and sat
forward to hear the story. "Tell all, I want every gory detail."
"There's nothing to tell, but I'm sure Dale will turn it into a three
hour epic. The floor is yours, maestro!" If it looks like I gave up
too easily, you just don't know how persistent this two can be,
resistance was futile.
"So he was in the office tearing his hair out over a broken copier, when
this vision of loveliness arrived to fix it..." And so the story went
on as Dale rehashed everything I had told him earlier in the bar,
missing out nothing. Then he expounded his crackpot theory to Eileen
who sat in silence for the whole story. When he finished she turned
and looked at me.
"I don't think you should take Dale's advice." She finally said.
"See! Ha! Told you you were nuts!" My crowing was to be short lived.
"Wait a minute, Mike. I DO think you should jam the copier, but I think
you should do it just before five. If he shows up then and doesn't put
you off to the morning that's a pretty good sign. Just wait until he
fixes it and then ask him if you can buy him a drink, to thank him for
service above and beyond the call of duty and so on. I would hold off
the throwing down and the kissing until the third jam."
Dale burst out laughing, and leant over to kiss his wife on the cheek.
Even I had to admit it sounded like a pretty good plan. Totally
plausible, what did I have to lose? It was worth a try.
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