Why isn't Peter happy?

By Paul Agusta   |  Sun, 04/19/2009 1:58 PM  |  Short story

Peter is happy. At least, he's supposed to be. Most people think he is. Why wouldn't he be? He has a good career, is self-employed, has a good boyfriend and a nice apartment. Everything a gay man slowly creeping towards 30 could ever want.

But Peter isn't happy. Not really. At least he doesn't think so. He hasn't told anybody this, He knows what they'd say. The last thing he wants is to be called ungrateful. He is grateful for all the good things in life. He is. Honest.

He is. But Peter still isn't happy, not completely. There's something gnawing inside him. He doesn't know what it is exactly. Whatever it is, it's leaving a hollow feeling inside him.

He's been putting a lot of thought into what might be causing this annoying feeling inside him; it's not work, he's making a lot of money with relatively little effort, his staff do most of the work. His boyfriend loves him, and he's pretty sure he loves his boyfriend. So what the hell is it?

His shrink told him that no matter how comfortable a man is in his life, there will always be moments where everything just isn't enough. It's the nature of men to want more than they have. This makes sense to Peter, kind of, defi nitely, but not entirely.

For a man to want more in his life, he would have to know what "more" is, right?

Well, Peter doesn't know and that's what bothers the hell out of him.

***

Andy isn't happy.

It's quite understandable really.

He just lost his job. Granted, it was a crummy job waiting tables, but it was a job nonetheless. He's been on nearly a dozen fi rst dates in the last two months, without a single follow up second date.

His mom called six times today, leaving six identical messages: if he doesn't graduate next semester, she won't keep bank-rolling his life, rent included.

Having spent the bulk of his tuition money on fi rst dates, splashing out on fancy clothes, colonge and dinner, he is now up the creek without a proverbial paddle.

At the bus stop, classifi eds in hand, he's looking like crap. He's been at it all day.

As he takes a deep - well, it couldn't get any worse than this -sigh, it begins to rain bricks. He has now progressed from looking like crap to looking - and feeling - like soggy excrement.

***

Peter is spending the whole day at his coffee shop. He's convinced -although not entirely- that work might cheer him up. The thought of pouring coffee and serving pastries all day may not seem comforting to most people, but it usually perks Peter up.

Today that doesn't seem to be the case, but he keeps at it anyway. Plus, he's short-staffed. He just fi red a waiter for fooling around with his girlfriend in the pantry.

It suddenly begins to rain a minor monsoon.This cheers Peter up a bit. Not that he's mean or anything, but rain usually drives passersby in for a cup of something warm. God knows he could use the distraction.

A gorgeous young thing, in a tight soaking wet t-shirt and skinny jeans, walks in with a look reminiscent of a drowned kitten. Too adorable, he thinks quietly to himself.

***

Andy parks himself down on the nearest empty table, looking mighty relieved to be someplace dry. He pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and extracts a severely bent fag. He giggles. A crumpled up fag smoking a crumpled up fag.

A rather cute older guy walks up and places an ashtray in front of him. "You look like you could use something warm", the older guy smiles.

That smile already seems to be doing the trick thought Andy. A thought he immediately shuns. Men are the cause of his current woes, no need to exacerbate things. "Coffee would work. Black. No sugar. He sighs.

The guy nods and smiles again, returning with a steamy cup of very dark coffee. "Thanks."

***

"You're welcome." At this point Peter decides he needs to say something clever quick, or that will be end of it. "Awful weather we're having today." Okay, not so clever. Dammit. The boy looks awkwardly at Peter and smirks.

"Yeah that was lame. If you're looking for an excuse to talk to me, I'm sure you could do better," retorts Andy.

My, my, this boy has cheek. "Okay then, do you mind if I sit here and give it another shot?" He signals to one of his waiters to cover for him.

The boy giggles.

Way too cute.

Peter knows he shouldn't be at the table, but he can't seem to resist staying. This is going to be a problem.

"Give it your best shot. I could use some entertainment," Andy smiles, gesturing confi dently with his head, strands of wet black hair falling over his face.

This could get sticky, very sticky. Then it hits him, could this be the "more" he has been looking for? Or is that too obvious? This nagging feeling of emptiness he's been feeling all this time can't just be his libido tricking him into cheating, can it?

Well, a little chat to prove that theory couldn't do any harm, could it?

***

The older guy seems to fascinate Andy and at the very least, this young boy is proving a fi ne distraction from his current mess.

"Let me guess. Still in college?" he asks, to which Andy replies with a headshake, "Not clever enough, old man."

Andy laughs to himself, how did he wind up with company when he purposely set out to be alone in a strange part of town? The area is littered with cafes and restaurants, and it's approaching a new college term.

He lights a cigarette, "So my highly tuned former starving-student instinct tells me you're looking for work, probably in the food service industry", says Peter.

He contiunues, "I'd like to venture another guess by saying you have most likely recently lost your job and or boyfriend and or benefactor, and your parents are threatening to cut you off."

Andy ashes his cigarette and leans back, taking a long drag, considering in amazement the pyschic barista sitting across from him. "You must be quite a catch," says Andy.

The guy points at the ring on his right hand, "Caught", he replies smiling.

Luck just isn't smiling on Andy today. "Caught? That's no way to describe a wife," queries Andy.

"Husband," corrects Peter. Double dammit.

"I see," says Andy slowly, "And would your husband mind if he saw you sitting here with me?"

This guy seems to be setting up a challenge and Andy is notorious for walking through gaunlets - it's a small addiction of his.

"I sit and chat with customers all the time", answers Peter.

Andy detects a twinge of guilt in his face.

"I see," says Andy as he carefully puts out his ciggarette and leans dangerously close to Peter.

***

Ouch. He's awfully close. Peter leans back a bit, taking a puff with a hint of nervousness he fails to disguise.

"Would he mind if this friendly customer chat continued outside the shop at a later time?" asks Andy, in an overtly seductive manner.

As Peter begins to feel like he's being transported into an episode of Queer as Folk, the blood begins to rush back up to his head where it belongs. "Yes I would."

As the words leave his mouth, Peter begins to mentally fl og himself. Andy looks dejected.

"How about I offer you a job instead?"

Hearing himself say it surprises Peter but he decides to roll with it. "I just lost a waiter and could use the extra help. It doesn't pay much, but we get a good crowd here and they usually tip well."

That seems to brighten the kid up a bit.

This outburst of generosity brings a strange sense of release for Peter. He likes it.

"For real?", asks Andy.

Peter nods while adding the ever important warning, "Three months probation fi rst, and if I like you, you can stay."

***

An interesting development for Andy, his luck must be shifting.

"When do I start?" Andy says with more enthusiasm than he cares to show.

"Come back tomorrow at 8.a.m.. We'll work out the details," Peter says as he gets up. "For now, enjoy your coffee. It's on the house. I have to get back to work."

Andy is still slightly taken aback, a fi rst time a rejection just evolved into a job opportunity.

He reaches out for Peter's hand, looks up, and says "Thanks, man. Really. Thanks."

"You're welcome," he smiles.

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