Page 3 of Full Service

“I know you do. All the youngins do. My grandson says it’s a pandemic with homosexuals these days.”

Oh, good lord. I’ve heard all about his grandson, Junior, the man Lee keeps trying to hook me up with. But I keep refusing. I have no interest in meeting this elusive grandson. We’d probably have nothing in common, and I’d hate to disappoint Lee with any kind of rejection. Who knows how old this Junior is anyways? He’s probably just as young as that guy who gave me a lap dance. I already feel like the creepiest of creeps, coming in that chair in that dark, dank club. But dating a man half my age?

No thank you.

I may be lonely and up for a change, but I’m pretty sure that’s not it.

“We’re gays now, Lee. Homosexual is outdated.”

“Meh, I’m too old to change,” he tells me, and I roll my eyes with affection.

I met Lee a few months ago while I was shopping at the grocery store. He was slowly wandering the aisles with his walker, and when I noticed that he appeared to be walking back to his place, three grocery bags precariously placed on the little seat, I offered him a ride home.

He told me I was a serial killer and waggled his arthritic finger at me.

I offered to buy him ice cream if he got in the damn car.

He caved like a house of cards.

The rest is history.

I found a fast friend in him that day, and I’m so glad I ended up at that particular grocery store.

“Stop on by tomorrow. I want ice cream and some fries.”

“You need to keep your cholesterol under control, old man.”

“I may be old, but I’m not dead. Let me live, gay man.”

I grin and agree to meet with him tomorrow. Like I’d refuse him. He knows I’m a sucker for spending time with him.

With a quick goodbye, I hang up and get back to work.

The morning wears on, grading taking far too long. Mainly because I get distracted with thoughts of ass-man being a student here and trying to manage the slight anxiety I have at the possibility of running into him and him recognizing me. Perhaps I should purchase a hat and grow my beard out longer.

I should unearth my Groucho glasses and wander the halls with a cane.

A novel idea.

When I finally end up back in my office, only half of the quizzes are graded. Perhaps I’ll leave the rest for the TA to finish, I think as I open my door for students to come in for office hours. And they do come. The biology classes I teach aren’t easy, and I spend a lot of time explaining concepts to students who need it. Perhaps my TA can set up a study group and individual tutoring. Something that will lessen the toll office hours takes on me. Because as much as I do love teaching, interacting with students is draining.

Really, any human interaction makes me want to curl under my desk and hide.

I’m not a real social animal.

Hence the lack of dating. I just can’t be bothered.

I do wish a man would literally fall into my lap. It would make everything so much easier.

When I’m finally done with office hours, the last student ushered out, I shut the door. But before it can close all the way, something stops it, a resistance.

I pull it open, my eyebrows rising at the impertinence of someone trying to stop me from shutting out the world, when I see him.

Ass-man. His dark blond hair is swept back from his face, showing me his piercing blue eyes and those pink lips.

And his face. It’s even better up close in broad daylight. Flawless, perfect. Absolute sex.

Oh, fuck me.

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