Saturday, August 20, 2005

Saving Ryan's Privates ...

I recently came across another blogger's post concerning the relative ease of "hooking up" in the retail industry. I'm here to verify that fact. I swear, I'm seriously considering combining a bookstore and a bar and naming the place "Read Between the Lines" because I get more phone numbers at work than I do at happy hour, and they're mostly from the types you would never even see let alone talk to in a gay bar. I'm talking the married, the closeted, the "straight" guys. The guys who's, when asked point blank, usual reply is: "I'm straight, but I experimented." I've seen some of these "experimental" types. Circus freaks can take some lessons for their sword swallowing act from these guys.

My most recent account happened just two days ago. I was bored at work and stepped out into the main concourse of the mall. The watch repair kiosk across the way had a few people milling about, including a hot little number with dark hair and glasses. Outside of noticing him, I really didn't pay too much mind. It looked to me like he was in line. A few minutes later, he came quickly walking into my store. I nodded casually and said hello. He walked past with a greeting and disappeared into the store.

Between the watch shop and the eyeglass place next door, there are several people who come into my store and just hang out, looking at the artwork with no intention of buying anything. That's what I figured this guy was doing, so I let him walk around a bit as I did my own thing.

A few minutes later, I found him in one of the side rooms, just staring at a piece of art. He looked at me and said he really liked the art. I figured okay, I better go into sales mode. And so, I started explaining all there was about the artist and the piece. I only stumbled briefly during my monologue when I caught him mindlessly adjusting himself. But I stared more intensely as I spoke, paying more attention to his body language. He was definitely a hot guy. About my height, dark military-style buzz cut, nice tanned muscular body, deep voice, glasses (unfortunately hiding very intense green eyes).

We talked casually for a bit, before I decided that this wasn't going anywhere. I let him alone to look at the rest of the art, saying I'll be in the back doing some framing if he had any questions. While I was back there, he passed by the doorway several times, smiling at me with each pass. I went back out into the main gallery and was trying to figure out what to say that would make what I was sensing accurate. I didn't have to say much.

"What time do you get off?" He suddenly asked.

I looked at my watch. "I should be gone now, but my replacement must be running late. That reminds me. I have to jump on-line to check the bus schedule."

"Where do you live?" He asked, following me up to the desk.

I sat down, logged on and looked up at him. He was standing on the other side of the desk. He adjusted himself again with a smile. Even through his baggy shorts, I can make out substantial meat he was moving around.

Around that time my replacement came in. I quickly said my hellos and good-byes to her, gathered up my crap and headed for the door. Mr. hottie was now hanging outside the store, waiting for me.

"Can I give you a ride home?"

I mentally started kicking myself almost immediately with my reply: "I'm supposed to go to a party tonight, but I don't even know what time. It's nothing big. Just a birthday for a bartender in a bar. You're more than welcome to join me."

"I'm not really into that. Maybe I'll swing by here again tomorrow if you're not too busy."

Did he want sex right there at work? I told him to hold on a second and I ran back into the store. I quickly jotted down my name and cel number and gave it to him, with a typical "give me a call sometime" line. We parted ways.

That night, at the bar, I was telling anyone who'd listen about the "hot military stud" who tried picking me up at work. I had no idea if he was or not, but that's what he reminded me of.

I never really expected to hear from him and was surprised the next morning when my cell phone rang.

"Hey, Chris," came this incredibly deep and sexy voice. "It's Bozz." (what a fuckin' hot name too, huh?)

"Hey, what's going on?"

He tried to make small talk, asking me how the party was and blah-blah-blah. I think he was slowly trying to figure me out as much as me him. I asked him what he was up to.

Very hesitantly, he said: "I'm....watching some...porn."

"Oh yeah? Cool...what kind?"

"Oh man, it's hot..." He went on describing the guy-on-guy scene he was watching while stroking. "Man, I had to go into the bathroom and stroke out a big load after meeting you yesterday." He told me. This wasn't really turning me on, but I pretended otherwise. I can tell by his voice that he was jerking off on the phone right now. This was something I wasn't really into. I wanted him though. I kept inserting the idea of getting together as he described the movie.

"Ever fuck a marine?" He asked me. HOT DAMN!!! My instinct was right (unless he was lying).

After a few more minutes he announced, with growing breaths, the...ummm...climax of the conversation. "I'm gonna cum! Oh man, I'm gonna fuckin' shoot!! AAAAAAAAAARRGH!!!!" He screamed into the phone. I held it away from my ear. He continued to scream. I wondered how much was for show.

"Maybe I'll swing by later." He said.

"Okay."

"Seeya."

Just out of curiosity, I tried calling him back several hours later from the caller ID. The first time, I got a strange busy signal. I tried a 2nd time about 30 minutes later and it sounded as if someone had picked up and then quickly disconnected.

I decided to wait until I got home and try him on my home phone. I just wanted to know if this was something that was going to happen or was it some married guy who's wife was out buying eggs and milk and he needed a quick fix (not that I provided one). I forgot to call him when I got home. I'm wondering if I should try now? hmmmmmmmm......

Nah.... hot marine or not, it's about time I start giving the orders around here. He'll...ummmm..come when I say.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey! I worked retail for an entire miserable year and the closest thing I got to any kind of lovin' was the day one of the assets protection guys walked by and, seeing my hand on the counter, stroked my pinky finger and smiled.

Alas, the next week he left to join . . . ready for it? . . . the Marines. **sigh**

Chris said...

hmmmm...

rabbit: maybe it was one in the same guy... LOL I never DID hear from him again.