Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

Better Orgasms. Better World.

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“So Jex…. just so you know.. half the store knows already.”

My eyes pop wide open in surprise but thankfully I’m turned away from him toward the sink, washing my hands. “Oh.. Uh. Okay. Whatever.” All I can think was… Jesus, that was fast. I tell one person and suddenly I’m out.

“You’re not mad?” The kid asks. “I mean if someone did that to me I’d be pissed.”

So why the fuck did you do it? I want to ask. Instead I just shrug. I guess I won’t have to tell anyone else after all. Of course he had to be vague though - now I’m left to wonder for the rest of my shift which half knows and which doesn’t. Is it all the younger kids that know but don’t care? Or just whoever the kid was working with yesterday? Is anyone going to mention it to my face? I doubt it.

Suddenly I’m snapped out of my hand-washing reverie and back into the mid-afternoon rush with one of my favourite co-workers by my side. She’s constantly petting me, touching my hair, putting her hand on my shoulder. I don’t care if technically that’s supposed to be sexual harassment or something - coming from her I don’t mind. And truthfully I think she’s just been touch deprived since her husband died. Not that I have any idea when that is. All I know is we both probably have skin hunger, and what’s so bad about touching people anyway? I wonder briefly if she’s one of the ones that knows, and decide I don’t care. She's certainly not acting any different.

If anyone wants to talk to me about it, they can. Otherwise I’m going to go on like normal. No need to bring it up unless they do… Except there’s that damn kid.

He’s a nosy one, let me tell you. I never usually talk about my personal life at work, but for some reason this kid just got it out of me. Later in the day he was back to grilling me with questions, hypothetical scenarios, asking me opinions about his sex life..

“So like, just out of curiosity… How many relationships have you been in?”

I just guffaw at first. “Um, wow, that’s a little too personal.”


“Really?” He seems shocked that I finally didn’t want to answer a question.

“Yeah that’s pretty personal, Kid,” our other co-worker chimes in. Although when she slips into the back to continue loading the dishwasher, I sigh and decide in my infinite stupidity to offer up a juicy tidbit to throw him off track.


“I will admit though - I’ve only been in love once.”


“Wow. Once? Only one time? Ever?”


“Real love? Yeah.”

“So…?” He just looks at me expectantly.

“Well, it’s complicated. I still kind of am in love with him. And he is with me. It’s weird. We’re weird.”

“Wait… Him?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean… That’s one of the things.. It probably doesn’t help that he’s a guy. And married. And lives 2300 miles away.”


“Married? Jeez, Jex, you homewrecker.”


“Not really. Maybe a little. But it’s a whole.. complicated situation. But I mean sometimes I don’t even. It’s like, some days I do, some days I don’t. I can’t explain it.” 


More questions, more answers. I go into the whole, met him during my teenage years before I knew thing. I still have no idea why I did it. I kind of regret telling him anything, and I think I should have just left it at being gay. But honestly, I wanted to confuse him, and although I’m a little ashamed to say it, I think in part I wanted to un-come-out. Or lessen the impact somehow. Kinda like “yeah I’m a gay, but I’ve tried loving a guy too. I’m just a regular person. No big deal.” 

And I think I also wanted to end the questions about women too. Any time I’d tell a girl at drive-thru I liked her nail polish or asked where she got that cute ring, he’d be smiling when I turned back around and want to know if I was trying to pick up or if she was my “type.” I think by saying I loved X, I was kind of saying “back off. my heart’s taken. I’m not looking at you or any random chick here to buy coffee.”

But you want to know the worst part? It’s a lie. Of course I’m looking. I still glance at the Kid, some of our other co-workers and almost everyone that comes to the store. Really, you don’t even know how bad I need a girlfriend. I’ll be so happy when I can finally move into my sister’s apartment in the summer and start looking for chicks in a bigger (gayer) city.

I’m ready for a whole lot of grown up stuff - going back to school, getting a real career, working full-time at a job I like, and settling down with the right girl. You read that right - girl. I just want to forget about flirty guys at work, forget about all my complicated history with X, and have a lovely woman all to myself - mind, body and spirit - once and for all.