While We Wait

“He's got short brown hair, glasses, and some scruff, but not too much. And he stands head and shoulders above everyone else.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means he’s tall.”

“It does? I thought it was something people said about a person’s -- caliber?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“You don’t have to get an attitude ‘bout it.”

“Cliff, I’m not getting an attitude. But you asked me, and I told you what I thought it meant, and then you questioned it.”

“Well, you just pull things out of your ass sometimes.”

“That a gay joke?”

“Man, you know what I mean. Like you try to trick me into thinking something is wrong. On purpose.”

“Oh! Like when I told you the first Dairy Queen was just downtown, on this side of Paradise and 3rd?”

“Yeah. Exactly like that. I looked like such an idiot in front of Winter.”

“Screw her.”

“Dude, that’s my girl.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else’s. What? I’m just sayin’ the day you put a ring on her, all the sad young men at Lucky’s got even sadder.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Means your girl is a real lady. Of the night.”

“Josh!”

“Ha! I’m just kiddin’. You know I am, man!”

“Yeah, whatever. I still don’t see your guy. You’re head over shoulders guy. Where is he?”

“He’ll be here. He said he’s comin’.”

“I’m sure he’s said that a lot with you. Ow! Your elbows are really sharp, man!”

“We haven’t done anything, man. We’re just -- talking. Going slow.”

“Talkin’ ‘bout what? What do gay guys even talk about?”

“Same stuff guys and girls talk about, I guess. Ugly people who have cute babies?”

“Winter always wants to talk about moving to New York after college. For dance.”

“Pfft, Winter dreams. What? Do you think she’s a good dancer?”

“Well, kinda. But -- she’s always talking about moving to New York. And I don’t think I want that.”

“Why would you? New York sounds super lame. It’s crowded, bright, and smelly.”

“You just described the Offshore Pirate.”

“Well it wouldn’t be so crowded if it wasn’t the only gay club in town. Ugh, where is he?”

“You text him?”

“Snapchat.”

"And?"

“And he came and went when you turned around to play with your pimple.”

“Whoa. No need to go Snapple on me! I’m not the reason he’s late.”

“Well, maybe he saw me standing here with you and he thought I was with you. And he bolted.”

“Did you tell him I was gonna be here? Tell him I didn’t want my roommate to get murdered by some rando he first met online and has only hung out with a couple times? Did j’you tell him that?”

“No. I said you were gonna be joining us for a night at the fair and that you were my best friend and that it would be great if he could meet you.”

“Were?”

“Are. Shut up.”

“You just said the fair? Maybe he’s at the fair in Bolton County?”

“What?”

“You said he lives in Desmond.”

“Yeah.”

“Desmond is there on the county line. Maybe he thought you meant that fair. And reception out in Bolton is pretty crappy--”

“--meaning he couldn’t text or call. You think?”

“All the time, man. But, yes, I also think he could be in Bolton.”

“But that’s almost an hour away! What do I do?”

“One of two things: either ditch me and go get it, girl--”

“You know I hate that.”

“--or send him a Snap about the mix-up and try to make something work another day. Ooh! You guys can come with me to Winter’s dance thing. They’re doing Swan Lake but with shrimp. Called Prawn Lake.”

“That -- sounds amazing. We’re in. Let me -- send the Snap. Okay. Just a couple of guys tonight at the fair. And maybe we’ll stop by the Pirate later.”

“Okay. But you have to protect me this time. That big guy wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I told you, man. Just start double-winking at them and they know to leave you alone.”

“Feels like I did that last time and it only made things worse.”

“Did it? Oh, who knows. To the Tilt-O-Whirl!”



Word Count: 705



Writer's Cramp Prompt: Write a story/poem incorporating items in bold, those being titles of books by F. Scott Fitzgerald. This day would've been his 122nd Birthday!