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Lunchtime Snack, Part 1

by Dead serious


Lunchtime Snack, Part 1

Well, it’s quite possible that you won’t believe the strange set of circumstances that came about for me. It all started about three weeks ago and quite frankly, I wouldn’t have believed the possibility of this happening myself—that is if I hadn’t been a willing participant.

I usually take a quick lunch in my office, as our company’s lunch room is notorious for filling up during the lunch hour peak, and the conference room is off limits for employee dining.

After being cooped up in my apartment for the better part of the past three weeks of foul weather due to the three hurricanes that have managed to either threaten or ravage most of Florida (and yes, there’s Jeanne apparently on the way as I write this) I and two other employees broke with tradition and decided to eat our lunches outside at our office building’s picnic table.

It was a very nice day, less humid and no rain, apparently attributable to what the weather guy calls “sinking air” ahead of a low pressure hurricane, which results mostly in dry and clear weather. We talked and talked while eating our lunches, and since I got outside late, I was also the last one to finish. Just as I was wrapping up my lunch, a guy from one of the upper floors in our office building came outside on a smoke break.

Now I’d seen this guy come and go over the past several months, but didn’t know where he worked or even his name. However, he was the kind of guy that any red blooded, healthy gay guy WOULD notice. He was about 5’11” - 6’0” and around 180-190 lbs, short cropped dark brown hair, a finely tripped moustache and goatee, and beautiful brown eyes, which complimented his light-olive-brown flawless skin. The only thing I found disappointing was his smoking habit—ahh but nobody’s perfect. Under the right circumstances this would just have to be overlooked.

He approached the picnic table and said hello. It was obvious that he also recognized me from my going in and out of the office building. He smiled and asked if I minded if he joined me at the table. Certainly I was not the one to refuse. I decided I’d stay put for a while longer—a few minutes less on the computer that afternoon wouldn’t hurt anything.

He introduced himself readily and I did as well. His name was Rodrigo, and although I had him pegged as most likely being Cuban or Puerto Rican, he was actually from Panama. He’d moved here with his parents when he was 15 from Panama City, and spoke nearly perfect English, just a slight hint of an accent, and the occasional wrong word. Actually, he spoke English as good or better than most people in South Florida. We got to talking briefly, and I found out he worked on the fourth floor and was a computer programmer—so we instantly had something in common.

I got the strange feeling that we were getting acquainted possibly too fast, and cowardly decided that I needed to end the lunch break. That’s when Rodrigo said he’d be taking another break about 3:30; why not continue our conversation then. I agreed. I went into the building, headed to my office and got down to business. The afternoon went by very quickly and I almost forgot about the break—something I never do anyway. I happened to look at my watch, and it was already 3:40. I leaned around my office credenza and looked out at the backyard communal area. Rodrigo was outside smoking with two other guys, so I dropped what I was doing and headed out.

Rodrigo introduced me to two of his co-workers, both of which I didn’t know personally, but had seen around. They were just finishing their breaks and headed in. Rodrigo hung around for a few minutes more. We talked business, but he was paying close attention—looking me straight in the eye, then sort of “sizing me up” I thought. I regarded this as a bit strange, since I’m in my early 40’s and this guy was probably upper 20’s or so.

Just as he was putting out his second cigarette and getting ready to go back to work, he asked me if maybe I’d like to get together after work for a drink. Since I had no plans (usually just go home to make dinner and catch TV at night), I said that would be just fine. He asked me if I had any favorite place and I answered that I knew of nothing in the immediate area. He then said that he liked the bars in the Wilton Manors area.

I must have given myself away, possible my eyes bugged out—or certainly noticeably widened—because he smiled. I told him to pick his favorite place and I’d go. He did—Georgie’s Alibi. Bingo. This is definitely a gay bar…and my all time favorite. True, they do have a decidedly “mixed” crowd at “happy hour” and in the early evening, and the area is very mixed as well. The straight and gay residents get along just fine, and many straight people are very cool with hanging out at Georgie’s as well. I still played in cautiously, but agreed.

We took our separate cars, and arrived at the bar just before 6 PM. Rodrigo decided he’d better make sure I was clued in on the type of place we were about ready to walk into. I just shrugged my shoulders and smiled. Rodrigo found out soon enough when we approached the bar and the bar keep called out my drink preference. At that point, the cat was out of the bag…the horse out of the barn…

Rodrigo just laughed and said, “Yeah, I thought so.”

I asked, “Was I really that obvious? How could you tell?” Now I usually pride myself as acting masculine and am definitely not a “flamer” or anything remotely close.

“Actually, I couldn’t,” Rodrigo confided, “but I was hoping so. I’ve been watching you for months, but I never see you outside or anything. Then a few weeks ago, I thought I’d seen you here, but I wasn’t sure.”

Now, I was really flattered, and ready to pinch myself. Was this really happening? I’d been sort of looking for the past four years since moving here, and was half-heartedly in the market, but still not over my ex-lover who stayed back north due to his job career. My trance was broken by Rodrigo continuing.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I find you very attractive,” he said.

“Have your eyes checked lately?” I retorted in my attempt at self-deprecating humor. This threw Rodrigo slightly off the track for a few seconds, but then he smiled. We got our drinks, and moved away from the bar.

“Ugh, you have figured out that I’m…a gay man?” Rodrigo cautiously volunteered, apparently suddenly afraid that I might actually be straight and he could be barking up the wrong tree.

“Well, I’m certainly relieved that you are, and yes, I think you can safely assume that I am as well. My sense of humor can be a bit ‘dry’ and times, I guess you’ll just have to try and get used to it.” I said.

“I’d like to get used to it,” Rodrigo said as he brought up his glass in a toast.

We clicked them together and moved on. That was as they say when the two freight trains collided. From that point on, the evening was a blur of conversation and getting to know each other. The bar filled up and we decided to hit the Thai restaurant a couple doors down from the bar. We had a great dinner and continued our acquaintance. It strangely seemed like we’d know each other for quite a while. We both sort of lost track of time, but reality came to me—I had a business trip the next day and an early flight out.

By this time, Rodrigo was making it quite clear that he would like to continue our friendship on a much more personal level. I was certainly fine with that, if it weren’t for that 6:40 AM early bird to Houston. I dropped the news. There was a momentary sadness in his eyes, but this was also replaced by a conflicting sort of “relieved” smile. I told him that I’d be back Friday afternoon, and we could make some dinner plans if he was available. “I know this great Italian restaurant, that is if you like Italian,” I offered. Rodrigo jumped at the chance. “I eat there quite a bit, as it’s just around the corner from my apartment.” I added, before I realized what I might be saying to him.

Rodrigo just grinned and clicked his almost empty water glass, “To Friday then, I’ll be looking forward to a great dinner…and maybe there’ll be room for dessert.”

We left the restaurant and ducked back into the bar, ostensibly for a night cap, but the place was too crowded, we barely made it in the door. Rodrigo spoke first, “I think we’d better pass on the drink, you’ve got to get up early.” With that said, he put his arm around the middle of my back and propelled himself forward, giving me a strong hug, and then a kiss. “Besides, I really didn’t want another drink anyway, I just wanted to be able to do this,” he said as he kissed me again.

“Actually, Rodrigo, you’ve made my day. Friday can’t come soon enough for me.” I said.

We pushed our way out of the bar and headed to our cars. “Take care my friend,” Rodrigo shouted as he waived from his driver’s door, “I see you Friday!”

When I got home, my cats were there as always to greet me, but I wasn’t thinking of them and they seemed to notice. I got a loud chorus from both when they decided I was ignoring them. I placated them briefly and set about packing a suitcase for the morning flight out. This really pissed them off. But I didn’t take much notice…my mind was elsewhere. I also forgot to pick up my mail—a first for me.

End of Part 1

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