(This was a short story I wrote in my creative writing class, during quarantine. Enjoy!)

Copyright © by Nick DeCoopman (All rights reserved)

“This is a work of faction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.”

“What the hell am I going to wear?” Nate said to his reflection in the mirror after brushing his teeth. Getting ready was always a struggle. Dropping the towel in the hamper and rummaging through the clothes in his closet was a daily chore. Especially for a chubby bald guy that wanted to look like he didn’t buy his clothes at “Old Navy”. Nate made minimum wage for a non-profit company that provided care for mentally ill adults, making big bucks was out of the question. Instead, he wore clothes that fit and made him look like he had some sense of fashion. With the right accessories, anyone can look like a plus size male model for “Old Navy”. Thankfully being gay had its’ perks. Or at least in Nates case.

Clean underwear (check) clean clothes (check) cigarettes & lighter (check) cell phone charged (check) wallet (check) keys (check).

Walking past the mirror one last time, “You could always stay home and play Sims” Nate said to his reflection. What fun is that on a Saturday night? Nate dreamt of being wined, dined, bent over and railed till his hair grew back. Being single after 8 years of being with his ex and the horrible sex, Nate needed to get out. His Sims characters had more of a life than he did. Better clothes, more money and didn’t live in Chesterfield Farms.

Bob and Nate decided to meet in the middle of where they both lived. Roseville. Olive Garden was the decided place to meet up at. Roseville didn’t have many options. Oh joy, bottomless breadsticks and carbs. Just what Nate needed on his first date with a guy he had been chatting with on Bear411. It wasn’t his first choice on how to meet a guy, but with the lack of gay community where he lived, his options were slim to none.

Nate recognized him as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. The baseball jersey with his name on the back and some kind of voter hat, that he could see from a distance. It was definitely Bob.

Bob. Wannabe “Senator Bob”.

All “The Senator” could talk about was Softball, running for some State Representative thing, food and getting in Nate pants. Pants that were a bit snug and were only going to grow more uncomfortable after devouring endless breadsticks.

Nate blew off “The Senator’s” advances since he joined the site. After being ghosted by a guy he was chatting with for over a month, Nate needed to go out. “The Senator” said just enough to get Nate to accept going on this date. “The Senator” seemed like a nice guy, when he wasn’t gushing about himself.

Checking himself one last time in the rearview mirror to make sure there was nothing in his teeth. Nate walked to the door, where “The Senator” was waiting.

“Hey, you must be Bob?” Nate said with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

As Bob looked up from his cellphone. “Yup”.

Nate was not a fan of one-word responses. He wanted to get back in his car and go home. This was a bad idea. Nate scolded himself “Stop being a brat, give the guy a chance”. Exhaling and smiling Nate replied “Shall we?”.

“The Senator” grabbed the handle of the door and held it open for Nate. As Nate entered the restaurant, “The Senator” grabbed a handful of Nates ass and said “Lets eat”. Nate felt ill.

They waited at the bar until their table was ready.  “The Senator” ordered a beer, and Nate ordered a Diet Coke. The conversation with “The Senator” was one sided and somehow, he turned everything into some weird sexual inuendo. Nate was not a prude by any means, but this guy sounded like a horny virgin.

“I am the coach for my softball team, maybe I can get a home-run with you tonight”

 “I was once a Gourmet Chef; I would love to Holland-glaze your face”

“Maybe you can handle my breadstick later”

Nate just stared at him, while sipping his Diet Coke.

“The Senator” bragged about how he was going to be the youngest and hottest Politician in Michigan. Nate knew he’d vote for whoever was up against him, regardless of Political Party. “That’ll teach him not to grab my ass again” Nate thought.

 “Do you want to go door to door campaigning with me?”

Nate was not impressed, nor did he want to go door to door asking people to “Vote for Bob”.

Why did he agree to this date? Oh yea, his ego was bruised and he needed to get “Ghost” out of his head.

Nate kindly replied “Oh yea, maybe once we get to know each other, for sure”. Nate knew he was lying. There was no way in hell he was going to walk anywhere or go anywhere with this guy again.  Arrogant was the kindest word Nate would sum up for “The Senator”.

The guest pager started buzzing, letting them know their table was ready. They walked to the Host station and were escorted to their table.

While looking over the menu, Nate dazed off into his head with different thoughts about what he’d rather be doing.

All while “The Senator” droned on about himself. His campaign. His horrible sexual innuendos.

“Does he ever shut the fuck up?” Nate thought.

The thought made Nate chuckle to himself. Little did Nate know “The Senator” changed subjects and was talking about his dead cat. He dazed right through the conversation change. 

“What’s so funny?” as he looked at Nate like he had 3 heads. “Oh, the baby over there just flung a breadstick across the table and hit who I assume is his Mom”. Nate had to think quick and something semi funny.  He didn’t want “The Senator” thinking he was laughing at the dead cat story. The cat was lucky. He didn’t have to deal with his masters nonstop talking anymore.

“The Senator” replied “Oh, so where was I?”.

The waitress came to take their order and of course “The Senator” had 10,000 questions.

“Is the sausage spicey?”

“Can I have my sauce on the side?”

“Can I have an extra plate?”

“These EYE-Talians sure know how to make good food”

(Nates ancestors were turning over in their graves. 1 for him being gay and 2 this guy calling his people EYE-Talians).

“Do you make a lot of tips, Shelby?”

Her name was Shelley.

So much for “The Senator” listening to anything other than himself. Nate had just one question looming in his head yet again.

“Does he ever shut the fuck up?”

Salad turned into dinner, dinner turned into dessert and then the date would be over. Checking the clock every 5 minutes to when Nate could make his great escape.

Nate made his plans in his head for the rest of the evening. After getting out of this restaurant and far, far away from this guy. First things first, Nate was deleting his stupid Bear411 account when he got home.

“NO MORE MEETING UP WITH GUYS FROM THE INTERNET!”

 Most are creeps, and the one nice guy he wanted to be on a date with, ghosted him. The rest of the evening would consist of putting on some comfy clothes (you know pants that weren’t cutting off the circulation to his lower body), checking his very lucky Sim characters, masturbate and go to bed. So much for being banged like a screen door in a wind storm.

Plus, no one would be there to talk.

Especially “The Senator”.

The night would end on a positive note. Come on 5 more minutes, as Nate looked at the clock one last time.

Nate reached for his wallet when the bill came. “Oh no, I got this. My treat” with a wink.  “The Senator” said this with a little too much excitement. Nate thought “Does he think he’s getting some because he’s paying for dinner? Olive Garden dinner?” He’ll be lucky to get a hand shake after all the nonsense Nate had to sit through. “Thanks, at least let me leave the tip” Nate offered. “Big Bank Hank” (name change of course) replied “I got that too”. Nate watched as he put $6.00 in the check presenter for the waitress, Shelby as he called her yet again. As they got up to part ways, Nate slipped another $20.00 in the check presenter. The poor waitress had to endure just as much as Nate did, especially with “The Senators” demands. The least she could do was get some cash out of it.

They made their way to the door.

Nate could feel the freedom as the door opened and the non-EYE-Talian food air, hit his face.

Sweet, sweet freedom.

Nate kept walking toward his car when “The Senator” asked “Want to hit up this gay bar down the road?”.

Nate tried to think quick of a response, “Sorry, early morning”, “I shit my pants”, “I have to feed my fish, Mother and Fucker” (yes, that was their names) “I’d rather have my teeth pulled out with pliers by some cousin humping mountain mutant than go anywhere else with you”.

“The Senator” was basically begging. “Damn it, Nate. Just say NO! You got Sims to put to bed, porn to watch and pants with an elastic waist just calling your name! Get in your car and get the fuck out of there”.

“The Senator” looked pathetic. Nate thought to himself “1 drink and then you can leave”.

“Sure, I’ll follow you” was all Nate could say. Why do you have to be so nice? Are you gluten for punishment? Aren’t your pants tight enough right now? Nate got in his car and thankfully with the windows up and no one around, he screamed.

Walking through the doors of the gay bar, the familiar scent filled Nates nose. Perfume, smoke, alcohol and fried food. Loud music blaring, lesbians playing pool and Drag Queens twirling around entertaining the crowd. This was Nates safe place growing up. He’d spent many nights here. Dancing the night away while sipping on his Diet Coke. The feelings all came back to him, 18 years old and wanting to be someplace where he could be himself and not worry about the world’s cruelty.

Thankfully this was the bar “The Senator” wanted to go to.

They made their way to the bar. 1 drink and Nate could peace out and forget this evening. Fortunately/Unfortunately, Nate and “The Senator” knew most of the people in the bar, including the bartender. Kisses and small talk were exchanged. Nate ordered a Shirley Temple and “The Senator” ordered 3 bottles of beer. “Nice” Nate thought, “He’s going to get sloshed and I’ll have to drive his ass home”.

They sat at a table top close to the dance floor. A Drag Queen was performing on the stage. Nate watched The Drag Queen like she was the only one in the room, making sure to avoid “The Senator”.

As Nate watched the show, he felt a hand start sliding up and down his inner thigh, under the table. “Great, now he’s trying to get fresh”. Before Nate could get “The Senators” hand off this his thigh, he moved it higher and cupped Nates crotch. Before Nate could even react to the hand now pawing at his crotch, here comes “Grabby Hands” (name change again) in for the kiss. The feel of wet, sloppy beer mixed with EYE-Talian food flavored lips were on Nates. Nate tried to pull away, but “Grabby Hands” took his free hand and grabbed the back of Nates head, holding him there. Nate was screaming in his head “I am being assaulted by a Politician”. “The Senator” must have been satisfied with his onslaught and pulled back. Smiling, mouth covered in saliva. Nate kindly excused himself and sprinted to the bathroom.

Standing at the mirror scrubbing his face with soap and water, the Drag Queen that was just performing, was now standing at the urinal peeing. Dress hiked up, being held by her chin. She looked over at Nate and asked “Little boy, are you ok? That soap can’t be good for your skin, I think it’s actually dish soap. This bar is so cheap”. Nate turned to The Drag Queen and said “I was just kissed by a man that wants to be a Senator, has beer flavored garlic breath and thinks my crotch is a softball”. The Drag Queen laughed. “Ohhhh honey, did he at least pay for dinner?” Nate replied “Olive Garden”. The Drag Queen must have agreed with Nate because her next words were “You need me to sneak you out the dressing room back door, baby?”. Nate shook his head “No” while staring in the mirror.

He put himself in this situation, he had to get himself out. “No, thank you. I have to pull up my big boy pants and just tell the guy I am not interested”. The Drag Queen patted Nates head like a dog (she towered over him wearing 6-inch stilettos, mind you Nate is 5’5)

 “If you need Auntie Maddy, you come into the dressing room and I will ram my fist down “Mr. Gardens” throat”. Nate thanked Auntie and made his exit.

As he was walking back to the table to grab his keys, cigarettes and to get the fuck out of there. “The Senator” was chatting with 3 people that Nate didn’t know, but the tall one looked familiar. Nate walked up and they all turned to look at him. “The Senator” quickly walked to Nates side and said “This is my date, Nate, hey that rhymed”. Nate rolled his eyes and shook hands with the first 2 people (short butch lesbian and drunkish gay guy) and paused when his eyes landed on the 3^rd. Nate knew exactly who the 3^rd tall guy was now. “Your name is Milo, we’ve chatted before” Nate said as he shook his hand and thought at the same time “And the jerk who ghosted me after talking on line and texting for over a month, promising they’d hang out. Even exchanging pictures of his (Milo) new dog and a dick pic or 2 (Nate)”. Milo apologized, stating school had got in the way and he meant to text Nate back. “Likely story” Nate thought.

As “The Senator” stood there talking like he was George Bush, Nate walked back to the table, set his keys down and lit a cigarette.

“Oh, you aren’t going anywhere now, bitch” Nate thought. “You’re staying put to see if “Ghost” aka Milo, was interested or not”. Nate exhaled a long puff of smoke, when the smoke dissipated there was “The Senator”. “Wanna dance?”. Nate mushed his cigarette into the ashtray and said “I thought you’d never ask, I’d love to!”.

The dance floor was packed. It reeked of sweat. “The Senator” positioned himself behind Nate and began to dry hump Nate like he was trying to mash potatoes with his crotch. Nate moved his hips to the music, but his eyes searched the bar for “Ghost”.

Of course, “The Senator” had a hard on and was grinding it into Nates ass as they danced. Out of the corner of his eye, Nate saw “Ghost” standing with his friends, staring at Nate. Nate really put his ass into it, just to show “Ghost” this could have been him if he wasn’t such an asshole. “The Senator” grabbed Nate hips as they danced to “Buttons” by The Pussy Cat Dolls. All Nate wanted was “Ghost” to be the guy behind him, grinding his dick into his ass, but nope. He stood there with his friends whispering like elementary kids. As the song was coming to an end, so was Nates patience and hope for “Ghost” to push “The Senator” out the way and take his place. Nate pushed off “The Senator” and decided it was time to go home. The DJ must have had jokes, as Nate was leaving the dance floor “Damaged” by Danity Kane started blasting out of the speakers.

Nate had had enough. He walked back to the table top to pick up his things and just walk out. Nate had no intention of saying bye to “The Senator” or “Ghost”. Like the song playing, Nate was “Damaged”.

  “The Senator” walked up to the table as Nate started to walk towards the door. “Hey where are you going? It’s early. Have another Shelley Temple”.

Nate was officially over this night. If he didn’t cut this guy off right now, he was going to be suckered into marrying him and becoming Michigan’s first Lady Man.

Nate replied “Shelley was the waitress at the Olive Garden, the drink is a Shirley Temple, look I have an early morning, I have to get home and get some sleep. Thank you for a lovely evening, but I really gotta go”. That was the only excuse Nate could muster up. “The Senator” said he understood and asked if he could walk Nate to his car.

As they were walking out of the bar, Nate took one last glimpse at “Ghost”. He was standing there with his brown shirt with green seems, dark hair and good looks. He was still in the same spot chatting with his friends, where he watched Nate dance. “Ghost” took one last look at Nate as he exited. And he was gone. Danity Kane belting “My heart is damaged” faded as the door closed. Nate walked directly to his car, “The Senator” in tow.

All Nate felt was exhaustion. Exhausted from entertaining this guy all night and exhausted from men in general, particularly “Ghost”. “Why didn’t he reply to my messages? Were the dick pics too much?” Nate thought.

“The Senator” walked Nate to his car and opened the door for him.

“The Senator” leaned in with his eyes closed for another kiss. This time Nate was prepared, he put his hand up and stopped him from getting any closer to his face.

“The Senator” kissed Nates palm and opened his eyes. “Oh, I wanted to give you a kiss good night. I had the best time. We should totally do this again”. Nate just shook his head yes but, in his mind, he was screaming “HELL TO THE NO”. Nate did the gentleman thing. He grabbed “The Senators” hand and shook it like he was campaigning for a vote.

Nate got in his car and rolled down the windows, the night air felt crisp and Nate needed to wake up. “The Senator” made one last attempt to get in Nates pants. “Wanna come back to my place. I could show you more of my dance moves, but naked”. Nate shook his head no this time and replied “I think you got enough of that on the dance floor, see ya around Senator”. Nate put the car in gear and drove off. In his rearview mirror he could see “The Senator” walk back into the bar. Probably to find his next victim to grind on.

Nate turned up the music and drove home.

Pulling into the driveway Nate sat in the car going over the night in his head. Lighting one last cigarette for the night, he looked up to the sky. Staring at all the stars. Nate whispered to himself “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I will, I wish with might, I wish to have this wish tonight”. Nate wished to be carried up the stairs by ‘Ghost” and thrown into his bed, where they snuggled till morning. Nate finished his cigarette and flicked it into the street.

Nate climbed the stairs to his apartment. Walking in he felt the loneliness and darkness. He switched on the light and walked to his fish tank. Mother and Fucker swam around opening and closing their mouths. Nate pinched off some food from the container and fed them a late-night snack, turned off the lights and walked to his room.

Again, in darkness and feeling lonely.

Nate stripped off his clothes and took a long, hot shower. He needed to wash this night away. His face felt like it had rug burn from “The Senators” kiss and then using the bathroom soap to scrub his face, after.

Nate brushed his teeth, put on his most comfortable pajama pants (ones that didn’t break the circulation off his waist) and climbed into bed.

He didn’t delete his Bear411 account, check on his Sims or even masturbate. Exhaustion took over.

“The Senator” text Nate a picture of his dick and said “You’re missing out on this Grade A Prime Beef”. Nate didn’t reply. “The Senator” was a total creep, Nate was never going to reply to him and deleted the message. He plugged in his phone and pulled the covers up over his head and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning when Nate woke up, he replayed the evening in his head. “The Senator”, Olive Garden and “Ghost”. Fucking “Ghost”.

Nate saw his cellphone blinking on the night stand. His first thought was the text from the now deleted “Senator”, but he remembered he deleted the message. Nate picked up his phone. When the screen lit up, he gasped, sat up, shook his head and smiled to himself. Pinching his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He read.

Milo D. from Bear411: I am really sorry for “ghosting” you. Do you want to go on a date tonight? I am sure your date with whatshisface was horrible. We could meet up later, say around 7?

Nate laughed out loud and thought to himself, maybe the Star wish worked…..