Since I had some time, I decided to start a conversation.I wished him happy pride month. He said, “Thanks and happy pride month to you too.” I replied, “Thank you!” Then we started talking a bit, small talk at first. And it turns out we were both heading to SFO on the same flight.After some conversation, it started getting a bit personal. He started talking about how difficult it is to find guys to date these days. I nodded. He said, “And especially being in India, how difficult it is for ‘us’.” I agreed.After a few seconds, I realised what had just happened. I think with my interest in him. When I said thanks after he wished me happy pride month, he might have assumed I am gay too. I was embarrassed to correct him at that point.Also, an inner voice told me to go along, and it was telling me this may lead to something beautiful. We kept talking after that, and I started playing along with my being gay. I enjoyed talking to him, and we had a lot in common.I then told him I needed to. Between the beer and spaghetti from last night, I'd somehow acquired a mild case of killer flatulence. I just knew I wasn't going to be particularly popular in my nest of 6 foot by 7 foot cubicles at work. I worked in customer service for a large international banking conglomerate. The customers I handled were ones who had large transactions in international currency and various types of multi-denominational EFT's. It wasn't much of a job, but when your major in college was in history, with a minor in education, well, suffice it to say that your employment prospects, outside of teaching, leave something to be desired.After a difficult day at work, caused mostly by my need to keep constantly on the move, so that my co-workers couldn't triangulate on my noxious emissions, I was quite content to drive myself home and luxuriate in the absolute coolness of my living room. Yes, I'd forgotten to turn off my air conditioning that morning and my electric bill would probably run about $300 for.
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