Page 101 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
“Oh wow, you have kids that come and play your game?”
“Yes. Mostly preteen boys. They’re a handful, but I enjoy them. Kids get so into it. They have such wild imaginations.”
“I take it you enjoy working with children?”
“Yes.” Devin paused to take a bite of his salad. “I love them. I love everyone who comes into the shop. It’s grown into a real community.”
“And how is this little endeavor financially feasible?”
My father’s abrupt, impolite question was like a dampening blanket on Devin and my mother’s cheery conversation. My mom shot him a dirty look, and I tried my best to relay an apology to Devin through my eyes.
God, my father is so rude.
But Devin wasn’t even fazed. He smiled that same polite, unheeding smile as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“It’s funny, I’m sure people wonder that a lot,” Devin chuckled. “And the truth is, it’s difficult. At least, for the first few years it was. I actually have a Bachelor’s in IT management, so I took a day job at a call center and managed the shop at night and on the weekends. I finally managed to get us in the black two years ago, so I left the call center and now run the shop full time. It’s a lot, though. I rarely work less than sixty hours a week.”
“My goodness,” my mother interjected. “Those are long hours.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was working closer to eighty before I left the call center.”
“When did you sleep?”
Devin laughed. “I didn’t.”
Even I smiled. I’d never asked, but I had always wondered how Devin managed to run the game shop financially. I also hadn’t realized he had a second job, but I remembered all the half-empty energy drinks he had behind the register for the first few years I lived in Orlando.
I peered back over at my father. Devin had answered his question perfectly, not falling victim to his sick little interrogations. But my dad still didn’t look pleased, although it was hard to tell since his facial expressions never seemed to change.
“What are your plans for the future?”
Jesus Christ, Dad.
This isn’t a fucking job interview.
Devin balked slightly at this question, taking a moment to swallow his food and cough. “My apologies, but what do you mean?”
“Well, do you intend to manage this little shop forever? Or do you have career plans?”
Little shop.I scowled. Critical Games was one of the largest game stores in Orlando.
“Jim.” My mother’s scolding was soft, but her eyes flashed like lightning.
“What? I want to know.”
Under the table, my hands balled into tight fists.
“Um, no, I plan to continue and expand the shop in the coming years,” Devin replied, although I could hear the wavering unease in his voice. “My current project is doing more online sales, so I’m cataloging individualCreatures & Cryptscards in a database. But it’s taking a long time. We have tens of thousands of cards. But once the project is done, I’m hoping it brings in enough extra revenue for me to hire more staff.”
My chest loosened. Devin was good at this. But it sent a pang of sadness through my heart as I wondered what sort of judgment he’d dealt with from his own family.
My father was silent. His eyes were still locked on Devin, his mind likely searching for more questions to stump him with. He’d already overstepped to the point of being cruel, and even though he was running out of steam, I feared he wasn’t done.
“Roll your sleeves up.”
Devin froze mid-bite, attempting to process what my father had just said.
“Dad!” I scolded, fury burning in my veins.
