About, and Out, 3 Years Ago.
About, and out, three years ago.
I see Annie again today. She looks warily
at me as she descends the stairs. She is warm brown skin, long straight hair,
and tired beauty. It’s a beauty as fragile as a middle aged fag’s ego, although,
missing the latter’s serrated edges. Gripping my hand to greet
me, she massages and holds it firmly. I momentarily forget I am gay. She speaks
English with a Vietnamese accent.
"Oh, I know you." She asserts, and I nod, "You were…",
she points up to the 2nd floor coffee house where we met.
"You are Goy?" she asks.
"I am", I say, as it is true: I am Goy
and I am Gay.
She sighs, in a seemingly tranquil way, and
tells me, again, a little of the story of Annie. Afterwards, she questions me:
"You have boyfriend?", and continues, "I not have boyfriend, life is hard, but with
boyfriend: life is harder."
I laugh a little.
"I no like man. I want…” she uses a
hand sign for woman that I partially understand.
Annie politely refuses my offer to
buy her lunch. (In reality, an offer I haven’t made.)
Shortly after this, I am on my way.
She is laughing as I mount the stairs.
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