but as always, it’s tough.
Sundays are always the busiest day in the grocery store, especially in the deli department, with parents getting the kids lunchmeat for school and all. It was insane. But that’s the typical Sunday.
Besides the usual chaos, there’s this guy in the deli who I used to really like a lot, because I thought he was kind of cute. He’s my age, but definitely straight. Nonetheless, I was fond of him. Let’s call him Dan.
Lately I’ve noticed Dan keeps to himself a lot, and almost always stays in the back of the deli doing dishes and sweeping, all alone. He hardly talks to anybody, only a couple of people. He says very little to me and takes very little interest in me, hardly notices me. One night, he ignored me the entire shift, until he called my name, shoved an empty bucket into my hands and told me to clean up the salad bar area. After that, I pretty much stopped seeing him through rose-colored glasses, as I realized he could care less about me. Besides all that, though, what I notice most about Dan is that he seems really depressed and lonely. Watching him work alone in the back of the deli, I almost feel bad for him, and I wonder how such a handsome guy could seem so sad and lonely. He probably has no idea how much I think about him.
Beyond him, another thing that bothers me is when my co-workers, most of whom are post-college-aged adults, ask me how school’s going. It makes me realize how much I hate being in school and how much I wish I could say it was behind me. I have a few law papers I’m working on, one is on California’s Three Strikes law. Then I have a test on tuesday on state governments, one which I am not at all prepared for. I get upset because the adults I work with always act like I should be savoring the “best time in my life,” and they remind me that it’s “all downhill” after that. When I hear things like that all the time, I wonder why the fuck I’m bothering with school at all, if it’s “all downhill” after it’s done.
When the crowds finally died down and the store grew quieter, a younger couple came to the counter and gave a warm hello to one of the ladies I work with, let’s call her Elaine. Elaine, who I get along with very well, is an older lady, always keeping us updated on her countdown to retirement. She introduced the couple at the counter as her son and his wife. Elaine’s son was very tall and handsome, with blue eyes, dark hair and a wonderful smile. His wife’s stomach was huge, she’s pregnant with her first child, a girl. These two parents-to-be were sharing their excitement as they await the bundle of joy. I could see this look of warmth and pride in Elaine’s eyes, as she smiled at her son. I felt this enormous sense of guilt inside me.
I was thinking, why couldn’t I have been normal? My mother will never see me with a wife, let alone a wife carrying her grandchild. I think of what a shame it is—if my mom isn’t willing to accept me as I am, or to learn to accept me as I am, she’ll never be able to get over the fact that her son is gay. Instead of feeling proud, I know she feels ashamed and disappointed in me as a default.
If Dan has never noticed me, I have to say that something caught my attention tonight as I was leaving the store. This guy who runs a register in the front of the store, has shoulder-length brown hair, quiet brown eyes, and he’s handsome. I’ve run into him numerous times when, on my break, he’d scan any items I purchased, usually a few small cartons of orange juice. I always drink orange juice on my break, so, whenever he sees me around the store, he says something about orange juice.
Tonight, as I was heading toward the exit, I was drinking, of course, a large container, a quart, of orange juice that I had bought earlier. I happened to pass by the guy I was talking about; he was at his register. He looked at me, and said, “That better not be apple juice!” I smiled, and told him it was orange juice. He smiled back, saying, “I know!”
So often I feel like no one notices me. But this guy notices me. It made me feel so good that I thought about it all the way home. I feel so weird, like, I could cry, because all I want is to be noticed and liked. I doubt he has any idea how good his acknowledgement of my presence made me feel.
