Kiss Off

This morning I entered the gym sauna to find MF there. (Remember the Michael Flores kinda-look-alike whom I met in the sauna, the one with the murdered boyfriend-in-secret? Click here to refresh your memory.) He looked glad to see me; I on the other hand was not in any mood for anything.

After a bit of chit-chat (“Did you hear? Someone complained about a gay member doing stuff inside the steam room, so the gay member is now banned from the premises.”), he looked at me and said, “May I kiss you?”

“Sorry,” I said, “but I’m not in the mood.” That was true. “I was just in the bathhouse last night.” That I made up. Truth is, I felt that a reasonable excuse like “I was in the bathhouse” wouldn’t make him feel too rejected at nine in the morning. I see no reason to be unnecessarily unkind that early in the day.

“Ah I see,” he said. So he asked me about the bathhouse. We chatted about it for a while. All this time I kept my towel firmly in place around my waist.

He ran out of questions to ask. He stood up, fixed his towel around his waist (making sure he offered me a view of his privates in what I perceived to be a last-ditch attempt to excite me) and announced, “I’m going to take a shower now. I’ve stayed too long in here already.”

“Sure, sure,” I said.

He suddenly leaned towards me and said, “May I kiss you?” and planted his lips on mine.

Generally I’m an understanding guy. And I do believe we all make judgment calls. No one is truly non-judgmental; they either just withhold final judgment for the moment, or they judge but with a perceptive understanding that people can and do change.

Right there and then, with his lips pressed against mine and his tongue pushing its way inside my mouth, I decided he had emotional needs that I cannot give him. But I still didn’t feel the need to be unkind. So I returned his kiss, but I broke it off first.

He smiled and whispered, “I missed that kiss.” Ooo-kay! Warning bells are ringing, spidey senses tingling.

He continued, “You were my first kiss since _______.” Oh good lord, now he’s invoking the name of his dead ex.

Then he said, “Which reminds me, it’ll be his birthday on the 20th! And it’ll be mine on the 25th.” And his point of telling me his birthday is… wait, lemme guess, gee I wonder why?

“Advanced happy birthday,” I said, in a manner that I hoped was cordial enough without sounding too friendly or too dismissive.

“See you,” he leaned over one more time and kissed me on the lips, a little longer and more passionately. This time I let him be the one to break it off.

As he opened the sauna door, he turned to me and repeated, “I missed that kiss.” A pause. “Really.” Then he stepped out and shut the door gently.

Alone in the heat and semi-darkness of the sauna I muttered, “Well, I didn’t. Really.” to no one in particular.






(Except perhaps the viewers of The McVie Show.)