“There’s nothing wrong with what I said. Oscar’s wearing a sweater and he’s a gay man, therefore he’s wearing a gay sweater. It’s like if I said Toby was wearing lame pants. Toby is lame and he’s wearing pants. Same thing.”
Toby looked down at his pants for a second, before looking at Oscar, apologetic. “It’s not the same thing, Michael. It’s offensive…”
“You’re the one who’s offensive.”
Oscar cleared his throat. He was regretting even bringing Michael’s comment up to Toby. “Maybe we should--”
“Oscar,” Michael said. “You’re my gay friend. And I accept your lifestyle. In fact, if you told me who you wanted to sleep with right now, even though I would be gagging on the inside, I would still respect your choices.”
All Oscar wanted now was to get back to work. “Uh…thank you?”
“I bet you’d choose Ryan though. To sleep with. But too bad for you. Because I asked him once and he’s completely straight. Like me.”
Wait.
What?
“Michael,” Toby began. “This conversation is really inappropriate.”
Michael looked at Oscar, a small sneer on his face. “I know who you wouldn’t sleep with.” He nodded in Toby’s direction. “You wouldn‘t want him, right?”
“What?” Oscar said. His head was starting to pound. “Wait. No.”
“Gay, straight, fat, crippled, no one would ever sleep with you, Toby,” Michael said. He looked pleased, as if Oscar had just confirmed something important for him. Michael smirked at Toby. "No one."
Oscar had now forgotten what he had been complaining about. He looked back at Toby, now staring at the ground, deflated. And this whole situation was now so ridiculous that Oscar found himself saying in his best are you kidding me voice, the one he usually reserved for Kevin or Angela, “No one would ever sleep with him? He has a daughter. What was that? Immaculate conception?” And then before Michael could compare an increasingly upset looking Toby to Satan or even worse say something about him not being the girl's real father, Oscar asked, “How is your daughter by the way? Any new pictures?”
Toby seemed surprised, probably still processing this absurd, insulting conversation or maybe because Oscar had never shown any interest in pictures of his daughter before. “I have pictures from Halloween. She was a fairy.”
“You’re going to let him say that?” Michael asked Oscar. “You, Toby, are homoph…homophob… are not as open-minded as I am and you can bet Corporate will be hearing about this.”
After Michael stormed off to his office, Toby handed Oscar the complaint form. “You know the drill.”
“Thanks,” Oscar said. “The funny thing is I hate this sweater. Gil got it for me.”
“Oh,” Toby said. Then, “You know when I said fairy, I meant like little girl with wings and a wand, right?”
“Of course. Michael was just…” Then he frowned. “About what Michael said to you.”
Toby shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I was just really caught off-guard.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me. This has to be a comfortable place for every employee, no matter their orientation. And you shouldn’t have to justify anything to anyone.”
“Yes,” Oscar said. “And that would be wonderful if that were actually possible here. But what I wanted to say was the reason I said no was because I try not to think about people from work, especially when they‘re straight. Not because you‘re horrible or repulsive or anything. Because you're not.”
That only seemed to fluster Toby more. “We… really shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
And after a very awkward silence, Oscar said, “I bet Europe’s nice this time of year.”
Toby looked confused. Then he smiled slightly, comprehending. "Take this company for all it's worth.”
“I’ll try.”
“Well, I should get back to the annex. If you need anything else…”
“Okay.”
“Oscar?”
Oscar looked up from the form. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
When Oscar was alone, he scratched at his arms, his neck.
He really did hate this damned sweater.
Even if it had just paid for another trip to Europe.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali