Oh to be a child again without a care and a worry in the world.
I watched her as she disappeared and was left feeling a little empty inside, thinking about my own “father of the year.” Li-Hau reminded me of all the things that my sister and I hadn’t had in life. She seemed to have happiness and confidence. We’d had betrayal and lies and instability. A knot started to form in my stomach as I realized how this still had such an effect on me, even today. How it stopped me from getting close to, or trusting people. If I was truly honest with myself, I didn’t really have any friends, other than the guys. I went through life avoiding connections with people, rather than seeking them out and I found it very hard to trust, especially men.
Later that evening I told JJ and Bruce about my encounter with the Princess in the garden—they are always game for anyone who wears tutus. They bothooohhhedandaaaahhedat all the appropriate parts.
“Forget Ben, where can I get me a dad like hers?” JJ said.
“JJ, the guy is married with a daughter.”
“How old is the kid?” he asked.
“Nearly six.”
“Then he’s definitely divorced. All straight people get divorced.”
I laughed. “That is such a generalization.”
“And all Asian men are hot,” he added.
“Another generalization,” I quipped.
“Besides, you can’t go out with Ben now that we know who his brother is!”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “He’s been talking about this all day.”
I stood up and started walking towards the door.
“Hey,” JJ called out, “Where you going?”
“To work!”
“Oh, good. Don’t let me catch you knocking on that next-door neighbor’s door.” He waved a threatening finger at me.
Bruce slapped him on the arm. “Don’t listen to him. Go and knock.”
“Bye, guys. See you later.”
“Traitor!” JJ called out after me.
18. Italian Stallion . . .
Work on a Friday night at the restaurant is always hectic. Big John’s—or BJ’s for short—is a small restaurant, and all the tables are set out around a stage that hosts drag shows and comedy nights. The stage also doubles as a dance floor for those special themed evenings when everyone is invited to bust a move, and does. The place is pretty crowded and JJ and Bruce have been trying to buy the shop next door to make the club bigger, but the nice thing about its size is that, when it’s full, it buzzes. The atmosphere is alive, and there’s usually something exciting going on every evening. The interior is bright pink and a massive sign hangs from the ceiling: “Eat, drink and be Mary”.
The menu is another thing entirely. The food is simple but good: gourmet burgers, hotdogs and interesting pizzas, with names like Long John (a hotdog), Big beef daddy (a large hamburger) and Italian Stallion (a pizza)—JJ named the dishes, so you get the picture.
All the waiters wear shirts that say, “Is it gay in here, or is it just me?” Most of them are of the gorgeous, muscular, tanned variety—JJ does the hiring, too. And then there’s me, who practically grew up here and knows just about everyone that comes in. Big John’s attracts a very loyal crowd who come week after week for the shows and parties but more for the good food and friends. And because it’s been around for so long, it’s become a kind of sanctuary for many. A place of total acceptance, no matter who you are.
Tonight was just a normal non-themed, non-show night, but still it was packed and the usual crowd was there, except for one. Even though his back was to me, I knew it was him the second I walked up to the table with a menu under my arm—no one else oozed such sexiness.
“Sera, what a surprise,” he said as he turned and looked at me. “I didn’t know this was where you worked. And yet, here we are, face-to-face.”
Shit!The awful image was back.Stop thinking about him coming on people’s faces!
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head hard, hoping the image might dislodge itself.
“Looked like you were thinking about something there?”
