The World is a Weird Place

I don’t know what I was doing in the bar that night. I don’t even drink. Probably it was one of those nights when I had thought I should get out more and meet other people. But it was not working. It wasn’t the place. It is sort of nice in a rough, unfinished way. It was the people. They were drunk, seriously drunk. I was standing near the back wall, nursing my drink—a straight tonic—and watching people on a fast track to alcohol induced coma.
Maybe it was time to leave.
“Sup,” someone said next to me. I turned and saw a lanky young man smiling happily at me. I had not noticed him before. He had short black hair, thick rimmed glasses, and wore his shirt over his jeans.
“Hi,” I said. I like to talk with guys.
“Do you come here often?”
“No. This is the first time in years.”
“I haven’t been here before,” the guy said. “I’m Kevin.”
“David. This doesn’t seem like your sort of place.” When I said he was young, I meant really young. He was the only one there who looked like in his early twenties.
“Yeah, it’s basic. I was about to dip when I saw you.” He smiled and looked me straight in the eye. What was that? Was he flirting with me?
I wasn’t deluding myself that I was every young man’s dream. Quite the opposite. So if he acted like he was flirting he was after something. Maybe a free drink; I glanced at his glass, it was empty.
“What are you having?”
“Beer. What’s yours?”
“Tonic water.”
“Nothing else? Want another?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I’ll be back in a minute.”
Kevin left me and headed for the bar. So he wasn’t trying to get a free drink. Maybe I was just imagining that he was flirting. Maybe he just liked to talk with me. Before I could decide what he was about, Kevin returned carrying a beer and a glass of tonic water with plenty of ice.
“Here you are!” Kevin handed the glass to me.
“Thanks!” I took a sip. It tasted fresh after the stale drink I had been nursing. “Do you always buy drinks for old geezers like me?”
“Only when they are cute like you.” Kevin smiled and lifted his glass. If that wasn’t flirting, I don’t know what is.
“I’m not so cute anymore,” I said. It wasn’t just modesty. I was all too self-conscious about my growing waist and the lines appearing on my face. “Shouldn’t you find someone of your own age to flirt with?”
“Why? You are way hot.”
I am sure there is any number of middle aged guys who would find nothing odd about hooking up with someone half their age. I was not one of those. But I couldn’t help feeling a little bit flattered when he called me hot.
“How old are you anyway?”
“Nineteen,” Kevin said with a small laugh. I was surprised: I had put him a few years older than that.
“I’m fifty,” I said. I thought my age would scare him away.
“Cool,” Kevin said. “I ship older men. What is it you do?”
That was a change of subject, but not one that I liked any better. “I’m a teacher. I teach math at high school.” Not a glamorous or highly paid job. Not the academic career I had hoped.
“Cool,” Kevin said. He sounded actually impressed. I guess when you are just out of high school you still look up to teachers.
“It’s not so cool.” Face it, I was an old, lonely gay man and I hated my job. “And you, what do you do?”
“I’m studying history at the university, but I guess I’ll end up a teacher as well.”
“Is that what you want to do? Be a teacher?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “I love history and learning stuff. I thought my history teacher was lit, so I decided I want to be a teacher.”
“Teaching kids has its bright side.” A kid who would get as enthusiastic of math as Kevin was of history would make my job bearable. But I couldn’t remember when I had been really enthusiastic about teaching.
“You are so hot,” Kevin said. He stood quite close and run his hand over my chest. He seemed to hesitate for a moment.
“Look, you seem a nice guy, but—” I didn’t get to finish that thought when Kevin gave me a quick kiss.
“How about we go someplace for Netflix and chill?” he said with a disarming smile.
“Does your mother know that you’re out?” I was being rude, but I really didn’t think it was a good idea to pick up someone who wasn’t much older than some of my pupils.
He leaned his head on my shoulder—he was some two inches taller—and nuzzled my neck. His breath was warm on my neck when he whispered in my ear, “I want you to fuck me.”
I tried to take some distance, but he was not letting me go. Instead he kissed me again. This was no quick peck on the lips like our first kiss. The kiss started tentatively, but soon grew intense as I had to give way to my desire. I could tell he was not very experienced, but felt myself melting in his arms. Shit, the world is a weird place. I had thought I had seen it all, but now I was being seduced by a nineteen year old.
#
I woke up with Kevin held close in my arms. I wanted to stay for a moment longer, but knew it would not last. This might be the last time I could have a young man in my bed. I got up, careful not to wake him up, and padded to the bathroom.
“Good morning,” Kevin called when I came back. He lay under the covers and smiled invitingly to me. I was tempted to join him, but didn’t want to push my luck with morning sex.
“You can use the shower while I make us breakfast.” I handed him a clean towel from the closet.
Kevin came to the kitchen freshly showered and dressed just as I had finished making breakfast for us. I placed a plate full of freshly made pancakes in front of him. He accepted the coffee I offered and started eating. I sat opposite, munching on my pancakes in an awkward silence. I couldn’t think of anything to say, but gave him an encouraging smile.
“Uh,” Kevin said timidly, “Would you like to hang around sometime?”
“Sure.” For a moment I wanted to believe he meant it.
“Awesome! Can you give me your number?” He handed me his phone.
I typed in my number and handed it back. Kevin poked the screen a few times and my phone beeped somewhere in the living room.
“Now you have mine!” He smiled triumphantly.
#
I didn’t expect I would ever be seeing him again after I kissed him good bye. It was just a one-night stand: Get him home, get him in bed, get him out.
To my surprise he called and arranged a date. We discovered common interests, started to work out together. Gradually one thing led to another. Kevin and I have now been together for seven years. We were married as soon as it became possible. With his encouragement I have found a new interest in my job and my life. Kevin became interested in Queer History when I introduced him to someone who was at Stonewall. He has just got his master’s degree and is now enrolled in a doctoral program. Every year we celebrate our anniversary at the bar where we first met.