Chapter 17 #2
“I don’t mind when people look at us together, but he was flirting with me with you standing right there.”
“Who are you, and what happened to the guy who was saying words like young feller a few minutes ago? You sure didn’t mind flirting then.” Rod laughed.
“I know, but that kid wasn’t batting his eyes at me. The clerk in the store was definitely interested.”
Rod stopped walking and tugged Wyl’s arm to face him. “Relax, babe. You’re a sex symbol.”
“What?” Wyl stared at Rod, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
“Yep. The real American status symbol for a sexy cowboy. I’m glad you’re my sexy cowboy.”
Wyl grabbed Rod’s hand and held on tight, looking furtively side-to-side. “Don’t let them get me.”
“Them? This isn’t a science fiction movie.” Rod laughed. “We’re on the cover of a gay magazine as a married couple. Nobody is going to get you. You’re mine, and the entire world knows it.”
Wyl took a deep breath and relaxed his iron grip on Rod’s hand. “You’re right. I’m being paranoid.”
“Look at your left hand,” Rod commanded.
Wyl held up his left hand.
“What do you see?”
“The hand of a rancher from Texas.”
“What else?” Rod led Wyl on.
“I need a manicure?” Wyl guessed.
“What else?” Rod’s voice grew impatient.
“Uh…”
“Hint. Third finger. Gold and diamond thingy.”
“Oh yes…a wedding ring.”
“Bingo! And what does that mean?”
“I’m taken?”
“That’s a question?” Rod asked, sounding like a Jewish mother.
“I’m taken!” Wyl said confidently with a big smile.
“Ding ding ding ding ding,” Rod teased. “You win the prize.”
Wyl tugged at Rod’s chin and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thank you for taking me.”
“Babe, we’re going to sit in front of a group of people and talk about our relationship and love. Believe me, if anyone is taken, it’s you.”
“Can we eat lunch now? I need a drink.” Wyl used his best 'poor pitiful me' expression.
“Sure, let’s go down to Harvey’s and grab a burger or something.”
A casual walk to Harvey’s turned into an ordeal.
The word had spread that they were on Castro Street.
Everyone found them fascinating. In the coming week, they’d celebrate Rod’s forty-sixth birthday and Wyl’s forty-first. To the twenty-somethings that made them too old to fall in love or…
heaven forbid…enjoy sex. They became the poster children for older gay couples.
Male couples smiled and nodded. Even lesbian couples took notice as they saw them featured on The Advocate's front cover.
It became increasingly evident that having a peaceful, undisturbed lunch was impossible.
The cowboys were in town, and when they reached Harvey’s, the staff seized upon them and immediately found a table.
The entire restaurant fell silent for a moment as everyone briefly stared.
The talking started again as people whispered, Do you know who they are?
Those are the married ranchers from Texas.
Wyl winked at Rod. Rod flashed a broad smile.
Then Wyl leaned over and kissed him, and the entire restaurant broke into thunderous applause, complete with wolf whistles.
They turned and smiled at everyone as the waiter came over to take their order.
“We’ll start with martinis, rocks, twist. Tito’s, if you stock it. Grey Goose if you don’t. And for lunch, bring a couple of burgers all the way, medium rare, with fries.”
The martinis, Tito’s, appeared almost immediately, and they toasted to their success…and again, the restaurant cheered. While Wyl thought they would garner attention, he never expected sex-symbol celebrity status. They were definitely a sensation.
The burgers arrived, and they ate fast. Partly out of hunger and partly out of a desire to get away from the crowds and back to the peace and quiet of their condo. The waiter came to check on them, and Wyl asked for the check.
“Your lunch is on the house if you’ll sign a copy of The Advocate so we can frame it and put it on the wall,” the manager said.
“Sure,” Wyl said, a newfound confidence emerging that was missing twenty minutes earlier.
“Who are you, and what happened to don’t let them get me, Wyl?” Rod chuckled.
“I’m wearing a wedding ring. That means I’m taken.” Wyl grinned, tapping the ring with the thumb of his left hand.
They left the restaurant sated and happy.
The walk back to the bus stop took forever. People who were enamored with Texans and Texan culture stopped them. They shook hands, conversed with people, and autographed covers. They finally got back to the bus stop and caught the bus back to their neighborhood.
The entire Castro Street adventure took four hours. They stepped off the elevator in their penthouse at 4:30.
“I need another martini,” Wyl breathed out, exhausted.
“Me, too! What a hectic afternoon. I never expected that kind of reception.”
“Olives or twist?”
“Twist,” Rod said. “I’ll do that while you mix the martinis.”
Rod brought the twists as Wyl poured the martinis, and they sat on the leather sofa to relax for a minute. They had an hour before the support group session.
“I told Joe we would meet him at six-thirty.” Wyl’s voice sounded soft and tired.
“Good. It will take us about fifteen minutes to walk to the church, so we can relax for an hour.”
A minute later, Wyl glanced at Rod and found him asleep, a half-empty martini glass still in his hand. Feeling the effects of the tiring day and the martini, he set his glass on the coffee table and placed Rod’s there before laying his head back to rest his eyes for a second.
Wyl turned his head to see Rod snoozing, then checked his watch. Six o’clock. What happened to the time? “Rod,” Wyl gently nudged him. “We need to get moving. We have thirty minutes to shower, shave, dress, and get to Glide Church.”
Rod rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What happened? Did we both fall asleep?”
“Yes, and apparently, we needed it. Now we must put it in full gallop to get ready in time.”
They stripped their clothes as they rushed into the bathroom. They showered in minutes, hitting only pits, cock, and ass. They dried, shaved, groomed, and headed for the closet.
“I thought we were out of the closet.” A teasing grin crossed Wyl’s face.
Rod chuckled. “We’re so far out of the closet we can’t find it. After being on the front page of The Advocate and our performance along The Castro today, there’s no doubt we’re out and proud.”
Wyl reached over and tugged Rod’s chin into a kiss. “Definitely. Except for the getting hit on part. I wasn’t too fond of that.”
“Wyl. Left hand.”
“Oh, yeah.”
They wore starched jeans, white shirts, belts with Texas buckles, full quill ostrich boots, and silk sports coats. Cowboy hats completed the outfits.
“We dress up pretty good for old guys,” Wyl teased.
“Did you bring your cane?” Rod laughed.