Attraction - 1. Chapter 1 - Average

I am an average looking guy. Quite decidedly so. On a good day with very well chosen clothes I may turn a head or two, but after a once over, audience generally loses interest. Not that I haven’t elicited enough keenness from guys to accumulate experience in the sack. With a lot of calculation and striking precision of a sniper I manage to get some without sabotaging the ego entirely.

Not that I am unpleasant looking or grossly out of shape. Some people even find the pattern of hair on my chest sexy. But without Brad Pitt’s face or body (short and too lazy to exercise), or even a porn star’s appendage (it’s the least God could have given me), I am not a blindingly alluring package in the eyes of Gay men. And that’s been proven to me repeatedly in all set-ups – streets, night-clubs, dating sites, bath-houses. It’s with this browbeaten understanding that I look about for my Shining Knight to grow old with.

One of my times for looking is mornings. On the train, sipping my latte, I check out guys on the way to work. Or let’s say, I look for this one guy, others just get swept into the net I cast. He is way out of my league, this guy. Athletic, towering man who rides a bike to work, whose well-fitting shirts show off the absence of love handles, whose serious thick eyebrows betray the supreme importance of his emails, guys like him generally cohabit with others of the species who project equal appeal. That is, people unlike me. The chances of his swinging the correct way aren’t great either. Only positive I have noticed is the absence of any ring on his finger. I still ogle him. Bad for mental health - I know! Just that the coffee and he together get my day going.

I was in an online meeting when Trevor came knocking to my cubicle. I signed to him that the call is winding up. He pointed to his stomach. I nodded and held up ten fingers. He waved and went back. Little over ten minutes later, we were in the sandwich deli across the street from our office building.

“How was the weekend?” Trevor asked, with his mouth full. He’s this smart, blond, dashing colleague who I came out to before awkward crush killed any chances of becoming friends. He was nice about emphasizing his straightness and a great relationship thus began.

“Not too bad! Did some grocery shopping, got some cleaning done, picked up a new book, watched a game..”

“You got laid” he noted between bites.

“And I got laid” I added before diving into my salad.

“Any good?”

“It was alright, nothing ground breaking” I shrugged. “What did you get up to?”

“Went for a movie with Cara”, Cara was his girlfriend. In fact, she was only the second girl he had ever introduced me to. I knew there had been more. There must have been.

“Yea?” I asked “Which one?”

“Gatsby”

I stopped chewing. “Really? Did you guys like it?”

“Yea! Leo’s good.”

“I know” I agreed enthusiastically. “If he dies at the end of a movie it’s bound to be good.”

“True that.” He agreed as we concentrated on finishing our meals.

As we headed out of the joint I enquired if he wanted to go for the soccer game on Sunday.

“May be… Is the weather good?”

“Bright and shiny says weather.com”

Trevor made the brooding face in which his lips curve downward with lower one jutting out, “I might! Let me ask Cara” he said. “If she doesn’t have anything planned, we can go.”

I know that most gay guys are generally jealous of their hunky friends’ girlfriends – I’m not. Trevor and I do not hang out much on weekends anyway, what with his mountain rescuing and rock climbing commitments, things I’m not into. We do meet up when he wants company for drink and no one else is around. I’m kidding. We just hang out at work and go for drinks every other week on a weekday. It seems natural to socialize with other friends on weekends.

“You guys seem to be getting serious” I pointed out. It was not a nonchalant remark.

“I know right?” Trevor had this disarming habit of sounding surprised with himself. Some attributed it to his dumbness given his jock credentials, but I knew how intelligent he was, so it was easy for me to like this eccentricity.

“Planning to pop the question are you?” I quipped.

“May be, I’m not getting any younger.”

We continued our conversation in the elevator.

“Is that the deciding factor then - Age?”

“Don’t get cynical on me. I just meant that it’s the right age to start a family if I wanted to. So thinking of marrying the person I’m in love with is only natural.”

“Wow!” I was surprised. “You guys used the L word?”

Elevators opened and I followed a grinning Trevor like the nag that I was.

“Yes!”

“Wait, when did this happen?”

“Saturday night.”

“Wow, and all you could come up with when we talked about the weekend was that you saw Gatsby? Dude!”

Trevor turned and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Calm down man!” he said. “I was embarrassed, OK? Not that I didn’t want to tell you.”

He smiled abashedly. His shyness always showed up in unexpected situations. I could not help my smile.

“Congrats man!” I said with genuine happiness. Sounding like a hyper teenaged girl I asked, “So you guys going steady now?”

“Shut the fuck up!” he said good-naturedly, as we parted ways. I heard him add, “I’ll ask her about the game”.

“Cool”, was my shouted response.

As the day progressed I could not help feeling a little jealous of Trevor. I know he’s a good friend and all, but closing in on thirty and with no prospects of a relationship for me, I was not exactly peachy about learning that my very handsome friend had entered a serious, hopefully lifelong, one.

Feeling sorry for myself is not a state I let last too long though. When work wrapped up, therefore, I decided that a release was mandated. Post a nice Italian dinner I wrapped the day up with some bath-house fun.