Fan Mail From Some Flounder



Chelsea, Manhattan, NYC - Sunday/Noon-ish

So, I'm sitting there having gay brunch cocktails in the gay restaurant in the gay neighborhood with my gay friends, flipping through the gay bar rags while waiting for my gay food to arrive, when a not-gay waiter brings me a Budweiser, placing it on a napkin that says "We heart you, Joe My God."

"It's from a friend," he says.

I look around the room, seeing no one I know. "Who sent this?"

"It's from....somebody," he smiles, looking a bit uneasy.

Wow. OK, cool. Fan mail from some flounder, as Bullwinkle used to say. But who? My friends and I sneak looks around the room, using mirrors and cutlery to look behind us. My unknown beer patron is clearly playing it very cool, because we don't detect a single sneaked glance. We decide to let the mystery beer gifter remain anonymous, since they wished to be so.

But still, I can't help my eyes wandering around the room. Was it the elderly man smiling at me with his crinkly eyes? Was it one of the giggling boys at the corner table? Or maybe it was that sexy Daddy couple with the beards?

My friend Ken snaps the above picture with his cell phone and I enjoy the beer with my French toast. While we're waiting for our check, I notice a girl with curly hair give me a timid wave as she descends the stairs to the street. Curses! I should have been looking for a girl! I'd say the purple ink should have given me a clue, but we are in Chelsea. Eddie encourages me to run after her, but I decide not to out her and her friends.

Today, I changed my mind.

Heh.


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