Page 12 of Ancient History

After a month, I’d become a pro at working these blood pressure checkers. I pumped it and monitored the tightness and numbers.

“Have you heard of an app called Milkman?” he asked me.

“How do you know what Milkman is?”

“I heard some gentlemen talking about it at the center.”

“Gentlemen.” I snorted. Such a classy term for a group of gays scouring a hookup app.

“Have you used it?”

“Pop.” My blood pressure was about to spike. Good thing I wasn’t the one being monitored.

“No judgment here. There are a lot of good-looking gentlemen on the app. Although for the life of me, I don’t get why there are so many pictures of their ding-a-lings. Wouldn’t you want to leave some things to the imagination?”

I ripped off the blood pressure patch and recorded his numbers in a notebook that we brought to the doctor for our appointments. My face was on fire.

“Pop, why are you on Milkman?”

I added that to the list of questions I never thought I would ask Pop.

“Do guys find that appealing? Pictures of each other’s ding-a-lings? Are there pictures of your ding-a-ling online?”

“No,” I said firmly, willing this conversation to end. “Why are you on a gay dating app? When you passed out, did you wake up gay?”

“That doesn’t happen. You’re born gay.” He pointed at the little rainbow flag in the middle of the table, something he grabbed from a pride event years ago. “Baby, you are born this way. That Lady Gaga, she’s one smart cookie. She has such a lovely voice. Why does she have to cock it up with all those getups?”

I snorted. Pop could always make me laugh, especially when he wasn’t trying.

“How were my numbers?” he asked.

“Answer my question first. Why are you on Milkman?”

“For you.” His forehead crinkled as he leaned forward to muss up my hair, which I’d spent a significant amount of time fixing this morning. “I was trying to find a nice guy for you to date now that you’re home.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Are you even out? I’m confused on your status.”

“My status?” Had Pop been readingThe AdvocateandQueertyin my absence? “I’m out to you, and if people ask, I’m not going to lie. But it doesn’t come up.”

Pop’s face called bullshit.

“What am I supposed to do? Introduce myself like ‘Hey I’m Hutch, and I’m gay.’ to every person I meet?”

“Why not?”

Pop made it sound so easy. Straight people didn’t have to announce they were straight. The people that knew me knew the truth. Though, in fairness, not that many people knew me. In Nashville, I kept a low profile. And when I played pro soccer, I never wanted my sexuality to overshadow my game.

Fine,technically, I supposed I was still in the closet.

“I’m setting up an account for you.” Pop’s thumbs moved around his screen with the focus of a gopher digging a tunnel.

“Stop.” I tried to grab the phone away, but I was too slow.

“What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t want people looking differently at me.”

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