Kareem (part 2 of 10)

Continued from Part 1

kareem part 2

While I’m stuck in traffic for two hours, I fight the urge not to check Joe’s “last seen today” on Whatsapp. I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for two days now. Guess when Salim asked me about my “boyfriend” today, I should have just answered: “Oh, he thinks I’m the worst person on earth and threw a drink on my face last Saturday”.

I used to be so honest. When did I stop? Funny… used to hate people who lie. I mean, I still do. But I guess I understand it now that I’m older. It’s just easier to lie. Pain-free.

I crack under pressure. I send him yet another Whatsapp: “Please reply”. It’s fine, I’ve already sent 7 of those. I can’t get lower than this, really.

His “last seen today” changes to “online”. Good. He’s reading the message. Then his status goes back to “last seen today”.

Fuck. He’s not replying. I don’t blame him. If I was in his shoes, my instinct would tell me to run away too. But I just want him to talk to me. I wish he could give me another chance.

I reach this guy’s place. Very fancy high-rise building, actually. I have to call him up so he meets me at the entrance, which is gated. Instead, he sends his maid. Such a gentleman, I know. But I get it. He doesn’t want to be seen walking into his building with another guy.

15th floor. Penthouse suite. The maid escorting me opens the door and makes me sit in the living room. Marilyn Monroe portrait. Audrey Hepburn painting. Can you get gayer? This guy must be a queen; an ugly-ass 45 year old balding gay guy who’s not my type.

Then suddenly I hear…

“Sorry, I’m late”.

I look over my shoulder and he’s standing there, wearing a jeans and a flannel, drying his hair (yes, a full set of black and grey hair) with a towel. A bit hairy. Has a beer belly. Just what you expect from a… 45 year old.

“No, it’s alright”, I say. “Love what you’ve done with the place”.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too gay?”, he says while smiling.

Gorgeous smile. White teeth. Didn’t see that one coming. How is this guy single? Well, I don’t really know if he’s single. Everyone fucks around these days.

I stand up and approach him. “Well, it would be if there was a picture of another queen somewhere”.

He points at the table behind me; a framed picture of Madonna.

“Ooookayyy…yeah you’re really gay”, I say. He laughs.

“So anyway, Hussein”, I come closer to him. “Are your maids filming this?”

He cracks an awkward giggle. “Are they?”, I ask.

I put my hand on his crotch. Semi-hard. Must have forgotten to wear underwear.

“Always. I have a whole collection”, he says.

“Wow, you said that with such a straight face”, I reply.

I bring my head closer and whisper in his ear: “But I hope it’s true”.

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Read Part 3 here.

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