Catching the #20 bus home at one in the morning, you step on moments later and sit directly across from me on a bus full of late night lasts. Awhile later our eyes meet and you smile at me. You are perfection. So, naturally, what do I do? I awkwardly smile back and quickly avert my eyes downward as I begin to fidget with my rings and admire the interior leopard-print lining of your adorable black boots. Further down the road it happens again. Repeat awkwardness, add a cell phone diversion, then pull the bus cord and flee the scene.
I should tell you, I am a gay man... but I am also still, apparently, just a man.
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