"Are you Dr. Lewis?"
" No....he hired you to move me, I'm...my name's Drew."
He scoped the apartment, expertly taking stock of what I had. "You don't have much stuff,ä he said. He looked at me, and then pointed to a couple of barbells.
ã You work out?" he asked with a grin.
"You can't tell?ä I replied coyly. ãI'm crushed."
He laughed. That feels good, making big, straight Brooklyn moving men laugh at a little homo flirtation.
"I can't believe you two do all this together, I hope you're getting rich."
"Oh, yeah, I'm a millionaire. I just move tons of stuff to keep in shape!ä He had a nice laugh, not too guttural, just very pleasant.
"So what do you do when youâre not moving tons of stuff?"
Now it was his turn to be coy. "Oh, I enjoy a good bottle of wine. A jucuzzi? Great sex." His looked right at me with a pointed look. I blushed.
Okay, so he's making a pass. Or not. He's friendly...he's straight and he's gonna come back with a crowbar and bash my head in...
"You're not a violent man, are you?"
"Ha! Didn't he tell you where he found us? The Gay Yellow Pages."
"Oh. Excuse me....I thought you were straight."
Was this some sort of dirty trick of Eric's just to drive me insane?
"I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it. People mistake me for straight all the time. I'm my own worst enemy, so straight lookin' I never get hit on. Turn around."
"What?"
"Turn around. There, you see? You got a straight guy's butt too."
"A what?"
"A straight guy's butt. Most of us work too hard on the butt and it winds up looking like a mannequin. But guys like you and me....it's nice and hard and big."
As he takes the last load to the truck...I'm beginning to forget where I'm moving to... Later, in the truck ride to the apartment -- (of course I have my own car, but I thought Vincent would need directions).
"How come all the best ones are taken?"
"Oh, come off it, I'm sure there's a line out the door to have a date with someone like you."
"And what am I like, Andrew?"
"...You know, tall, dark, handsome, funny, sexy, interesting, intelligent, outgoing --"
"Enough! Now, who's flirting?"
What a way to spend the afternoon. I have no idea why people hate to move. I'm really enjoying myself.
"Hey, Vincent. How would you feel about a set-up."
"I'm game. Who'd you have in mind?"
I take a deep breath. Why am I doing this?
"His name's Mark. Mark Fitzgerald."
