That’s
a Compliment
Nearly three weeks passed before Parker returned to the
mall, but Barbara made good on her promise to bring him by to meet me. I had no clue what to expect, but just the
opportunity to meet him was all I really anticipated. I was sure there would be something about him
that I’d find annoying or lacking. No
one could be that good looking physically and not have serious flaws of some
kind.
It was a Thursday night a
little after 8:00 when I saw Barbara walk into the store with Parker in
tow. Barbara must have been on
break. They pulled up in front of me and
Barbara did the introductions. Parker
stuck his hand out and I gripped it for the handshake. His hand was soft and warm. Well, he was polite at least.
He looked a little different—it
was his hair. It was different from the
first time I saw him. Same color but
more like a California
Things went slow at first, but
I finally got into my groove and I was telling stories, cracking jokes, doing
impressions of people in the mall, and basically entertaining them. It was like I became a one-man show with very
little effort.
The piece de résistance was
when I dove head-first into a floor rack because—as my cover story went—I
needed to level it. But it was more a
clever ploy to display my posterior to those in attendance. All of the girls I’d dated before said I had
a really nice butt, so why not show off one of my best assets? Of course, this cheap thrill was for Parker’s
benefit, not Barbara’s.
We did get around to talking
about music. Parker and I did most of
the talking with Barbara butting in every now and then for her input. He had wider-ranging musical tastes than I
did, but I had at least some exposure to bands that he mentioned. I was able to hold my own in the
conversation, and I think at some point we bypassed Barbara’s comfort
zone. Yes, she worked in a record store,
but it was one of those “mall record stores” which are generally not the
hippest places when it comes to new music.
I discreetly examined his face
as we chatted. I studied his eyes
first. They were blue, but not bright
blue. Truth be told, I always thought people
with bright blue eyes looked odd. Parker’s
were the blue/grey color that I really liked and fit him perfectly. I could have stared at the color of his eyes
the whole time, but that would probably freak him out, so I made sure to pace
myself. When he got animated during our discussion,
his eyes would light up and my heart would flutter a bit. I continued examining the shape of his
nostrils and looked for razor zones to see if he was shaving yet—it appeared
not. I watched the motion of his red
lips as he spoke and witnessed the frequent flash of his white teeth and the
movement of his perfect chin and those little rosy patches on his cheeks. It was at this point that I suddenly said,
“Braces?”
He abruptly stopped talking and
said, “What?”
“Did you have braces as a kid?”
“Um, yeah. How did you know that?” he asked.“I had braces too when I was in Middle School,” I offered. “Your teeth are as straight as mine, so chances are…”
“Wow, that’s a pretty neat
trick,” he replied.
There was a wall mirror near
where we were standing and we compared teeth in the reflection.
He joked, “By golly, you’re right! They’d better still be straight after mom
paid so much for them.”
I must admit the entire time we
were all talking, I was looking for any telltale signs that Parker was
gay. There was no nasally or affected
voice, no limp wrists or over-the-top gestures, no referring to a guy as she,
and no references to show tunes or female singers. I saw not a single thing that would set off
anyone’s gaydar. Thankfully, this was a
gay boy who did not fit any of the nelly stereotypes I had come to
despise. He was just really sweet and
genuine…oh yeah, and adorable.
Well, the visit flew right
by. There was much to talk about, mostly
music related, but there was nothing wrong with that. He was better with newer alternative music
and I was better with older alternative, but we were at least speaking the same
language. As we were wrapping things up,
I invited Parker to drop by any time he was in the mall for some more music
chat, and he said, “Yeah, for sure.” And
they were off. He did look back at me
once before they dropped out of sight, and I gave him the head nod good-bye in
response and he flashed back a quick smile that melted my heart.
The following week, Barbara
stopped by the store for a visit the next time we were working on the same
night. I held back on asking about
Parker, hoping she would bring him up…and she did. She said that Parker was impressed with my
musical knowledge and he thought I was handsome and clever.
“He said you reminded him of a
young Richard Gere,” she said.
“Oh…is that a good thing?” I
asked.
She laughed and said, “Of
course, that’s a compliment.”
Barbara then made small talk
about her and Parker and how they sometimes go to concerts or to the
movies. She also told me that Parker
didn’t drive. I thought that was odd
because I couldn’t wait to get my learner’s permit and then my license. I’d always felt that the freedom of movement a
car affords a person is invaluable.
Barbara informed me that he did have a learner’s permit, but was doing
just fine getting rides or taking the bus in a pinch. “His mom owns the only car and that’s how she
gets to work, so Parker isn’t allowed to drive it unless she’s in it with him,”
she explained. “Parker often has his
mother drop him at the mall when she goes out, and then I drive him home after
work.”
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