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Wednesday July 28th, 1993. I had just gotten up. I was
starting to make some coffee when my pager went off at 7:30. It was
my boss in LA. I knew it meant I was going somewhere. A page at 7:30
means something important. They had a service call in Phoenix Arizona
and they wanted me to do it. I had not been to Phoenix in many
years, since 1978 in fact. My boss said it was a major problem and he
wanted to have it fixed fast. That was why he was sending me. Who
knows what he says to the other guys, but he does seem to like his
Queer Engineer. He knew I had just had a very bad weekend, a very
bad weekend indeed.
The last few days had been very difficult for me. A relationship had ended very suddenly, one in which I had invested all of my resources of every kind. We were living together. We were going to have a ceremony. And then it was just suddenly all gone, and there were tearstains on my carpet where I had passed out crying a few nights ago, hugging the cat, needing something warm against my skin. My friends were there for me, good friends, in that way I'm lucky. I was devastated like never before, but I knew I was on my way back, I knew I was going to make it. The tears were coming less and less often now, not lasting as long. On Tuesday I had actually laughed a few times, gotten out in the sunshine, had thoughts about the future that did not frighten me. And I had a date for tonight, a blind date. But a trip to Phoenix, now, would I be home in time ? It was the last thing I had expected today. I only wanted the day to be over so I could have my date. When my ex left that Friday night I had just gotten off a plane from the East Coast. He was not home. He had not called my hotel. I knew something was up. Then he strolled in at quarter to 2 in the orning. By 3 AM he was gone. The fire was burnt out. Our love now ashes in an abandoned place. In order to fight my depression I had posted a message on a gay BBS. In it I talked about relationships and meeting people. I said just a little about what I was looking for and what I was like. I got a few replies. One from a guy who just wanted to be serviced and one from a guy, we'll call him the K man, who asked if I was the guy that wrote the stories. So I told the first guy that I was looking for a boyfriend and not a good time and I gave the K man my number. We talked on the phone for over an hour - K man and I - and I liked the musical lilt of his voice. I liked the fact that he was bright and worldy and friendly. And I liked the fact that he did not ask what I liked to do. But of course, he reads what I write, so he did not need to ask anyway. Our discussion was on a higher level than many I have had with new acquaintances. I felt good when we hung up the phone. I had to rush to get a flight booked and get off to the airport to catch it. My return flight was set for 4PM, if I managed to make it I'd be just in time for K. If I didn't I was going to be very disappointed. At the ticket counter in San Jose they asked how I wanted to pay for my ticket. I did not want to pay for it at all. It was supposed to be prepaid by my company. I felt my stress level zooming. I could feel my pulse in my neck. A phone call to corporate travel. Arguments between the airline and the travel agency. I was the last person to board the plane, but I made it. Once I got to Phoenix I called the K-Man and left him a message that I might just not make it in time for our date. At the Hertz Counter I told the girl I'd be back by 4PM. She commented on the fast trip and I told her that I had a date that night. We got to talking about dates and blind dates and I told her this date was through a BBS. She never knew, as far as I could tell, that I was planning a date with another man. It should not have mattered anyway. They gave me a Toyota Camry station wagon. It was parked in the sunshine. One hundred five degrees outside on a hot Phoenix summer day. It must have been a hundred fifty in that car. I was soaking wet before I had the key in the ignition. My mind was not working very well. The controls for the windows frustrated me, the air conditioner frustrated me. I did not want to be in Phoenix Arizona. I wanted to be in California. The airport in Phoenix is like a maze, it took me a while to find the air cargo terminals where the parts from LA and Atlanta were supposed to be. I had to wait for the parts at both counters. I had visions of a plane taking off with one empty seat. I got more frustrated. At the customer site I learned that the problem was miles away. They just wanted me to see the alarm on their PC. It was an alarm alright. I could see it. I wanted to kill. I wanted dead bodies lined up at my feet. I wanted to catch that plane. Off to Mesa to fix the real problem. Three O'Clock now, almost time to miss my plane. By 3:05 I had replaced a circuit board. 3:10 and I was out the door. At 3:30 I was giving Hertz back their car. Running through the airport, hating everyone in my way, I got to the gate and on to the plane just in time to sit down, relax and then realize I had eaten nothing but a bag of airline peanuts on the first flight this morning. I didn't care, I wasn't hungry. I wanted to be in San Jose. More peanuts on the flight home. One fourth of one ounce. And a small glass of ginger ale. Elegant. I chewed slowly. It was the same plane. I was in the same seat. The cute gay steward from the first flight that morning was nowhere to be seen. In San Jose I walked off the plane slowly. Not enough time to go home and change into jeans and a T-shirt, but plenty of time to make it to The Saint. I called his number and told his machine I had made it. I had told him I'd be wearing a pink baseball cap. So I walked into this gay bar wearing a tie, dress slacks, white sneakers and a pink baseball cap. If my ex-lover had seen me he would have died, but that might not have bothered me. I got a cup of coffee and sat down. I got another cup of coffee and sat down again. Then he walked in, I knew it was him right away. I have more hair than he does, but who cares. The thing was that right away, at first glance, he seemed like a likable guy. He smiled the way I had pictured him smiling when we talked on the phone. We shook hands. We stared. We each had a beer. I told him I had a few things to take care of that my trip had interrupted. A friend whose cat and mail I was babysitting, a trip to an ATM. We were two of the three customers in the bar. I suggested we take my van. Cash at Wells Fargo, then we went to see Simon. Simon is Sweet Sweet Brian's cat. Brian is a very close friend. The K-man did not hit on me when we were alone at Brian's place. I respected that. Off to Original Joe's. I was starting to relax. We had one more beer at the bar as we waited for our table. The meal was excellent. He had veal, I had chicken livers. Italian vegetables with garlic, more coffee, someone's leg kept rubbing up against mine. We talked about lovers and life. We exchanged childhhod stories. I told him about how I had married, had kids, thought it would make me straight. He listened and smiled and something kept touching my leg. He told me about his family and his career and I kept thinking that this man had his life in order. He started to seem more like the kind of person I'd like to know, than just a date. I was really relaxing now. The meal was over. It was 10PM. We walked through the night back to my van. Crisp San Jose air. Cool but not cold. Half of the moon was showing. There was a tension I'm sure that we both could sense. What would happen. How did we both feel. As I climbed in on the drivers side I looked at him and he looked at me. We talked about dating, and ruining things, and what our intentions were, and I gave him a ride to his car. Then I followed him home to his place. We had both decided, there might be something there. I picked out a CD as he got us both another beer. And we sat. And we touched. We talked and we touched for a very long time. The room grew smaller. Time stopped for us to give us a chance. I knew that I wanted more. He did too. We went to the room where he keeps his waterbed. And we did the things that people do. He pulled me close, we both trembled, and in the darkness of the night he held me for hours. The pain went away from my soul for a while. The sadness drained out of me as I lay with my head on his shoulders. Peace, satisfaction, a sense of caring if only for just one night. Who knows ? I sure don't. But someday I'll find love with a man who loves me as I am. Someone like K or someone else. Somebody Queer like me. He called me a day or so later. We will see each other again. From the depths of depression to the edge of hope. They say ashes to ashes, I say ashes to flame. I had not been to Phoenix in years. It was hot !
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