Finders Keepers

She smiled, sat back down, and lifted her beer. “This boy here’s been nervous as a nun in a brothel. And in case he doesn’t tell ya, he’d really rather not go out for dinner but stay indoors—” She winked. “—if you’re picking up what I’m putting down.” I closed my eyes slowly and could feel my face go fifty shades of red. “I didn’t say that.” “Well, not in so many words,” Bernice said with no shame whatsoever. “But if we could say what we meant without the dillydallying, we’d get to the good parts so much quicker.”

“And if you were looking—” I cringed at how ridiculous this was. “—and used dating apps, would you use Tinder? Or maybe Grindr?” I buried my face into the sofa cushion and rolled my eyes and wanted to die. He barked out a laugh. “Are you asking me if I’m gay?” “Yes.” “What was that?” I lifted my face from the cushion and tried speaking again. “Yes.” “I am.” My heart went from pounding out a mortified death march to doing some techno rapid-fire staccato. “Yay! Well, I mean, that’s good.” I just said yay. Fuck my life.