Earbug

The diner's specialty was greasy food and that's exactly what he was going to order until the man sitting on the stool next to him threw himself off his seat and landed on his butt on the floor. The man quickly got to his feet and backed away from the counter even further, never taking his eyes off his plate. Something was moving. The near-hysterical man shook his arms as if to shake bugs off his red shirt sleeves and shoulders.
"What the hell is that?" Mr. Red-shirt screamed.
The man wearing bluejeans who had only just sat on the seat next to him also removed himself from his stool. He calmly stepped to his right to get a closer look at Mr. Red-shirt's plate. Indeed, something was moving. He picked up a fork and moved a piece of lettuce covering the crawly thing. It was a Megasoma. Megasoma elephas elephas, to be exact, a large (by most Americans' standards), brown insect with black legs. Most people just call it an Elephant Beetle. Harmless, it was munching on the pineapple garnish the "chef" had plopped on the plate.
"Don't worry," said Mr. Bluejeans, scooping up the offending appetite stealer. "He won't hurt you."
Mr. Red-shirt looked at Mr. Bluejeans with an incredulous look and said, "Won't hurt me...won't hurt me? What the hell is it doing on my plate?"
Now even more calm, Mr. Bluejeans replied, "I wish you'd ordered soup; then I'd have a great answer for you." Mr. Red-shirt only stared blankly at him.
Mr. Bluejeans held up the big bug and asked the restaurant, "Anybody been down south lately? Mexico, Panama, perhaps?"
Mr. Red-shirt looked at the bug and said, "I just returned from Costa Rica."
"Ah!" said Mr. Bluejeans. "A world-traveler." Mr. Red-shirt didn't know if Mr. Bluejeans meant him, or the insect. "He must have stowed away in your clothes."
"You mean," said Mr. Red-shirt, now beginning to calm down, himself, "that that thing flew with me from San Jose?"
"Looks like."
A couple of people continued to stand around and stare at the bug and listen to the discussion, but the majority of the restaurant's patrons returned to their meals. Three people abandoned the plates on their tables and left the restaurant, two waiters following them out to try to get them to pay their bills.
"How do you know so much about this bug?" asked Mr. Red-shirt.
"I'm an entomologist...well, an amateur one, anyway. It's a hobby."
"A hobby." Mr. Red-shirt couldn't understand why anyone would be so interested in such a hobby.
"I'm an attorney during the day." He offered his hand to Mr. Red-shirt. "Corey Feldman...nice to meet you."
The other man shook his hand. "Corey Feldman?"
"Yeah...it's a problem."
"Jason Shore. Nice to meet you." Now that things were calming down, Jason began to notice how handsome his bugged out acquaintance was. Corey Feldman was tall, about six feet one inch, with short, jet-black hair and matching beard that he kept perfectly cut to a five-day growth, accenting his strong jawline. His black eyes and hair were offset by his smooth, creamy skin that covered a taut, muscular body that filled his snug bluejeans just the way Jason liked. His mouth went dry; whether from the bug situation or the handsome man situation, he couldn't be certain. Perhaps it was both.
"So, Jason, you've been on vacation in Costa Rica. See anything you like?"
Jason wanted to say, "I do now," but all he said was, "It wasn't really for me. We saw a lot of sloths and monkeys, but, frankly, the place smells."
Corey sat back down at his place at the counter; Jason followed suit, pushing his plate away.
"Yeah," Corey agreed and added, "their raw sewage is dumped into the oceans and rivers. Doesn't make for a pleasant smell, I'll admit. But what great insect hunting you can do down there."
"Well, insects aren't really my thing. I'm more of a dog kind of guy."
"Me,too! I love dogs. We'll get one after we're married."
Corey's audacious statement took Jason aback. "What? What did you say?" Jason tried to be cool, but he just wasn't one of those guys who could come up with clever responses at the drop of a hat. He turned beet red, which Corey found adorable. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll go out with me."
Now it was Corey who sized up Jason. He was an inch or so shorter than Corey, with pre-maturely gray hair that he wore short on the sides and slightly longer on top. He apparently spent several hours a week in a gym.
"You don't know anything about me," said Jason, hoping he wasn't pushing Corey away.
"You don't like bugs. What else do I need to know?"
"That's not a deal breaker?"
"Not as long as you don't make me throw out my 50,000-bug collection after we're married."
Corey saw the instant look of alarm on Jason's face. He'd gotten just the response he hoped for. Jason looked like a little lost puppy.
"50,000?!" Jason leaned away from Corey a bit.
"Just thought I'd put it out there. It's definitely been a deal-breaker - in the past."
"No, no. I can deal with that." Jason wasn't certain whether he actually could deal with 50,000 dead bugs. "But let's go out a couple of times before the marriage," he said, attempting to match Corey's audacity.
"Great. How about dinner and a play? Equus is in revival and I can get tickets."
"I've never seen it."
"Don't worry, there are no bugs in it...only horses," said Corey with a sly grin. How about Thursday? Where do you live?"
"Queens."
"Perfect. We can meet at the Lexington Avenue station. How about 6:30?"
"I'll be there." Jason pulled out his phone. "I'll send you my contact."
"No need. If you aren't there Thursday night, I'll know why."
"But what if something happens?"
"Then it's not meant to be. But, this is meant to be. I have a feeling."
"I'll see you Thursday." Jason got up to leave.
"Aren't you going to finish your lunch?"
Jason thought about the bug crawling around his plate. "Nah, I'm good. By the way, where is that thing?"
"The Beetle? In my pocket. You wanna' see it again?"
"NO! No, thanks. Perhaps Thursday, when I see the rest of your collection." Corey looked a bit lost, himself. He repeated, "My collection.
Jason continued, "I've seen enough for today."
"Okay, I won't bug you about it," said Corey dryly.
"Uh, the bug jokes aren't going to be a thing, are they?"
Corey could see Jason was serious. "I'll never do one of them again."
"Then I'll see you Thursday."
"See you."
The two men shook hands, again. Jason threw $12.00 on the counter and exited out the glass door.
Corey watched as Jason left and thought, "Now where am I going to get a 50,000-bug collection?"