Hey Jack

I went out last night and met a nice country boy named Jack.

We get there at the same time; our eyes meet. He smiles sweetly; dirty-blond hair, blue eyes. Kind smile. I pick up my drink. He is next up and waiting. I step away from the bar; my head turns, meeting his gaze.

I pick up a cup and fill it with coffee.

When I look back he is talking to the barman; I head to the video room. It is quiet. There is a fat young man sitting against the old safe whose eyes follow me. I sit up the back in the dark. The DVD is stuck. Play, says the screen.

I can see some guys enter. The light is dim; I can only see form.

A body appears around the partition. There's that smile, again, as he squints into the dark. He is standing looking at me. He turns and disappears.

Nothing to see here, I think. I swig my coffee and head up stairs myself. The fat boy looks after me, still sitting against the safe.

The top floor is quiet. He's standing at the pipe wall. I walk passed him. His eyes follow mine.

I do a lap and stop back at the pipe wall. He's gone. He appears, seemingly, out of the dark. He sits and looks at me, a few feet away. He's got really nice eyes.

He gets up and disappears up a corridor. I watch him go. There's soul music playing; some black diva singing from the pit of her stomach.

I slide along the pipe, so I can see up the corridor he disappeared into. He steps out of one room and heads into another. I walk to the doorway. He is sitting on the bed, waiting.

"Hi, I'm Jack," he says.

"Hi Jack," I say.

"How are you?"

"Good."

"Come in." I step into the room and sit next to him.

"Do you come here often?" He laughs.

"No, not so much," I say. I look up at the fake walls with no ceiling. Dim light. "I did once, couldn't get enough of it. Cock on demand, you know."

"All those guys..."

"Only so many hours."

"Thank god, you talk." He smiles. "So many guys won't. I hate it when they carry on with the strong, silent type attitude."

"Straight boys," I say. "They're the ones with girlfriends..."

"Pregnant wives, they get toey," Jack says. "You see it back home..."

"Back home?"

"Ballarat..."

"Ah, the coldest town on the planet," I say. "The place where the weather, I'm sure, has never been over single digits, every time I've been there. The busiest place on a Saturday night is the local beat. Car heaters. Jackets. Have you always lived there?"

"Born and bread," he says. "A nice country boy, that's me."

"Really?" I say "I like that in a man. I think, considering I don't know if I ever met a boy from Ballart, before. Bendigo. Golden Square."

"Where do you live?" he says.

"Just up the road."

"That's handy," he says.

"So, how often do you come here?" I ask. Handy?

He laughs. "No, not a lot. Probably twice this year," he says. "This being the second time."

"Yeah, me too. Same. I used to come lots. But now, not so much. Getting older, I guess."

"You're nice," says Jack. "Easy to talk to. I like you."

I laugh to myself. I like you too, Sunshine. I can't help but smile. You know that moment you realise you are attracted to someone. Blush. Sneak looks. That moment when you wonder if you are going to say anything.

"I like you too," I suddenly hear myself say."

"Good," he says. He reaches over me and closes the door.

We hang out afterwards. He's nice. Easy to be with. Handsome. Great kisser. He fills a pair of jeans well. We're going out for a drink next week.

The one problem is that he is six foot four. He's tall. I don't go for guys who are taller than me, generally. I'm five foot ten or eleven. Eye height or shorter that's how I like my men. Aby always said it was because tall men make me feel like a little girl. No, it's the eye thing, I'd say.

I make him stand down a step and he is perfect to kiss; sneaking kisses in a doorway in Smith Street. Straight couples catch us and smile. Parents walk passed, with kids, with straight faces. We laugh quietly, as the young son looks back at us. A group of straight boys could not help but smile and look away, shy.

I mean, we stopped kissing as they all approach, they'd have only seen fleetingly, if at all.

The rain falls softly. The world shines.