Trader Gays

Posted on January 11, 2015

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Approaching the entrance to Trader Joe’s, I notice the guy walking in front of me. The handsome guy walking in front of me, rather. He was. Handsome. Also walking in front of me. Both undeniable. One a fact, the other a strongly held opinion. The guy was handsome, to me. Also, presumably, to his girlfriend. Who was walking in front of him.

Fine. Let her walk there. I’m perfectly happy to walk behind the handsome boyfriend. Dressed in a black sweater, hugging snugly to his perfect form. Really, he was my ideal type. Just the right height. Just the right weight. He had a nice frame. The sweater looked good clinging to him. It was wet. From the rain. So were the pants. Which were also black. Also clinging to his perfect frame. Nice hips. Cute butt. Okay, lets’s just agree he was as close to perfect as a straight guy with a girlfriend can get.

Dark hair. Scruffy shadow on his handsome face. Dark eyes. Strong profile. In case I haven’t pointed it out adequately, this was an extremely handsome man. I walked as closely to him as I could, without intentionally brushing up against him accidentally.

“Oh excuse me, I didn’t notice you bending over to reach for that shopping cart. My bad.”

Naturally, I continued walking behind him all through the store. Which was crowded. I suppose that would have made standing extra close to him excusable, but I stopped short of stalker, and stayed a respectable voyeuristic distance away. As long as I could keep an eye on him, I was happy just to dream.

Why does he have to be straight? The best looking ones always are. For example, there was a cute gay couple standing right there. By the free samples. Both of them were cute. Adorable, even. Something sweet about the way they seemed to be wearing pajamas. Felt pants with elastic cuffs around the ankles. Socks and sandals. In the rain. So they must not have walked far.

Sleepy boyfriends staying in bed till late in the day, then rousing only enough to put something warm over the pajamas and cheat a free breakfast at the sample stand at Trader Joe’s.

One of them was red headed, and I’ve got a thing for those. Red heads. He was a nice match for his beau. They looked like they belonged as a couple. Both about the same type, both perfectly attractive men. Was I in the slightest bit interested in either one of them? Of course not.

Not while there was a dark brooding romantically dashing half wet straight stud with his girlfriend advertising how drastically unattainable he is. The redhead having a boyfriend did not create any hint of that same unavailable desirability. At all. I looked right past those two, silently wishing them joy and happiness in their relationship, of course, but even so. The dark haired straight guy held my attention the whole time.

Which didn’t last that long, to be truthful. No need to torture myself needlessly. I bought the one item I came in there to buy, and blew an imaginary kiss to my nearly perfect pretend boyfriend as I stepped back out into the rainy Sunday.

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Posted in: Incurable Pathos