Bobby lost the job at the clothing store.
Two weeks later the Paul said it was high time Bobby found another job.
Paul said that Steve was also 18 and he kept regular work.
Steve was the latest addition to Miss Jennie’s family of gay boys at 17 St. Phillip Street.
He was also the official good-boy.
Bobby thought that Steve was nothing but trouble.
“Steve says that he can find you work at the Navy Yard.”
Bobby thought: “Eight hours a day with sailors.”
He looked up at Paul and smiled sweetly: “When does Steve say I can start?”
Steve gave Bobby a job description and said he could get an interview that week
Bobby read the job title: ‘Facility Maintenance Technician, Apprentice.”
He read the job description twice before going into the parlor to read it out loud to Miss Jenny and Paul:
“It says here I’ll be a technician.”
“That sounds fine, Bobby.” Miss Jenny returned to her knitting.
Bobby pressed on: “Cleans, sanitizes, and/or deodorizes bathrooms! What kinda technician is that?”
Paul tried not to smile–so did Miss Jenny: “Skills like that will last a lifetime,” said Paul.
Miss Jenny snorted.
Bobby decided to play it up: “Performs deep cleaning as required! What’s that mean?”
“It means if someone pukes you’ll use your technical know how to clean it up!” replied Paul. “Bobby, It’s just a job for you to do until you figure out what you want to do!”
“Damned straight!” Bobby left in a dramatic huff.
Miss Jenny and Paul broke down.
Bobby arrived on time for the interview.
He gave the hot young officer behind the desk a completed application.
Ensign LeBeau: Why’s is your hair so long?
Bobby: I think it’s pretty.
Ensign LeBeau: You like bein’ pretty?
Bobby: You take what you can get, right? So how many toilets I’m cleanin’ ‘round here?
Ensign LeBeau: It says in your application that you’ve had only one job in your life, and that it lasted a week.
Bobby: I could not in good conscience work at that clothing store…They was sellin’ sweatshop clothes.
Ensign LeBeau smiled in spite of himself. The kid was cute.
Ensign LeBeau: Do you have any girlfriends, Bobby?
Bobby: You mean do I like girls? Why?
Ensign LeBeau: Most young men don’t want to look pretty.
Bobby: The ones I know do!
Ensign LeBeau: That’s why I’m askin’.
Ensign LeBeau smiled more broadly. The kid was cute, and a smart ass.
Bobby: I got so many girlfriends I can’t tell ‘em apart.
Bobby leaned back in the chair and manfully spread his legs.
Writing and image (c) Rob Goldstein 2016 All Rights Reserved