And in fairness to Hans, I should admit that I fall into the “straight but gayish” camp: men who, while sure about our heterosexuality, gravitate toward mid-century modern design, opera and flat-front trousers. That we even use the term “flat-front trousers” is evidence of the sexual-orientation vagueness we seem to emit. A bit of unwanted male attention is the price we pay for being just gay enough. So, while Hans’ offer was flattering, it left me wanting to swaddle myself in pleated Dockers while guzzling pitchers of warm Schlitz in a sports bar.
I still belong to the gym, and I still see Hans, hovering in the doorway of the massage room. We don’t make eye contact, though I think I can feel his cold glare. It’s my allegiance to the gym that forces me to deal with our awkward situation-a release-crazy massage guru and a former client weathering the uncomfortable silences of a not-so-happy ending.You are about to enter a website that contains explicit material (pornography).
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