Notes from the Other Ballpark

Post- church one Sunday, I bumped into two of my favorite guy friends-Chai and Shai-- waiting out front of the chapel. Every Sunday that we attend services, four of us meet up after and head to brunch. Carmen was MIA that day so as is our tradition when it's just the 3 of us we headed around the corner to our favorite Brooklyn diner with cheap waffles that taste like cake. (Carm talks us into going to chi-chi restaurants when she is there.)

It’s a teeny tiny diner where you freeze every time someone opens the door in the winter, but I love this place-- mostly for the food, but also because it is located near The Man Factory. Now I have never seen said factory, but I know it exists. Every time I dine at this place, a plethora of cuties (tall, wide, gorgeous cuties) stroll past the window or come in to sit at the counter for a good brunch. There MUST be a factory nearby, because I’ve seen the assembly line. But that is not the point.

The point is that as I recounted to Chai and Shai the general details of my situation with my SSO (for the record, things are well), a pair of cuties passed by the window and caught my eye. (I'm situated, not blind.) One was chocolate, broad shouldered and beautiful. The other was pale and just plain old fine, crisply attired, and perfectly manicured. I look, I look away, and I look again. The cuties are pointing and smiling... at me? I laugh girlishly and try to ignore them. I am with 2 men, who gay or not, are still men. (And too, there is the SSO to consider.) There's just certain things ya don't do as a woman in the company of men.

I lean into Chai, and tell him to check for the cuties who are trying to holler at me through the window. They are making quite a fuss over me and I want him to do a gaydar check (note: we are in Clinton Hill) and if nothing else, glimpse their beauty since he and I have the same taste. Chai looks, smiles, and says, ''I'll be right back.'' Apparently he knows them and later, I discover he's sort of dating the taller, broader, browner one.

Um... Okay. I guess they weren’t checking for me after all. (Insert humbling moment here.)


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