Tuesday, April 27, 2010

it could be worser

My place of employment is a fairly attractive place in what I find to be an attractive part of town. We are staffed with a fair amount of attractive people, though the girls are much moreso than the boys if we were to make a chart.

The last round of hiring in the front of house was almost all girls. There was this one guy who is pretty cool especially since he started getting my jokes, and all the girls get so moist when he's working. I could see it if it weren't all too much, and I just realized my issue. He's too manly, and I'm just not into the whole bear thing as such. I'm not saying no automatically however, but that's really not the point. Or maybe it's just his hair, or perhaps it's the all black outfit with brown shoes.

His brother is actually in the round of new hires and one of two very cute and of course straight guys. And it's the other guy that is at issue.

I get along great with most girls. I probably always have more than I realized, but I always assumed (lied to myself) that it was because I was such a great and open minded guy. I realize now how very gay and probably normal it is for me to get along better with girls. None of them are options in the buffet of people I'm going to want to either get dirty or act all grown up with, in both the dirtiest and maturest states those ideas can cover. Unless they're homophobic, then they're safe, and I can let down my guard a little bit.

I think sometimes I have a type, and then there's guys that don't really fit that that still sort of put my brakes on, and it's the other guy that's at issue in this latest round of hiring. He seems sort of like a tool, maybe a bit of a frat boy wannabe. I can't really say as I've not really spoken to him. I did sort of talk to him one night about the hat he'd chosen to wear when he clocked out and changed out of his work clothes. And honestly, that's sort of a sign there that he isn't a team player, and the other foh people will likely start to get that, but that isn't really the point.

The hat came down over his eyes, and his beautiful blue eyes are a huge part of his appeal. And I, without really thinking about it, said something negative about the hat. I was accidentally flirting.

And I don't do that. Really.

And what if he does figure out that I have a purely carnal crush on him? Just from the few shifts I've worked with him I can pretty much guarantee he isn't the coolest cucumber in the walk in. But then we squeeze past each other in the tight confines of the dish room in the middle of a busy shift where you might bump hips in passing but a clear "coming through" or a firm "hot pans" are all the courtesy anyone gets or expects, and you smell his cologne in the brief moment as you reach around the ill placed I beam to slip those pans into the sink full of water and grease and noodles.

I mentioned the other new server, the brother of the more veteran that the girls think about with their hand held shower heads. The girls all like the big, tall brother, and I like the less tall one. I don't think any of them would toss him out of bed on a cold winter night, but they'd wish for the other. I likely wouldn't toss either of them out, but I would get freaked out if they approached me together.

Because I don't really dig on the taller brother I can talk to him. Because none of the guys in the kitchen other than me are what I'd consider even drunkenly doable I can very easily talk to them. Most of them are actually much farther down the food chain than me, and I hope it burns them up to know that the girls wish they were all gay and me not so much.

And when we finally get two hot guys at once I remember my problem, that I can't act normal around them. I could be fifteen in the '80's, straight and trying to hit on Molly Ringwald for all the sane I'm able to muster.

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