Inside Out

We worked together a few years ago. He’s tall, thin and very hairy. The kind of hairy that had the fine, long hairs-which I presume-covered his chest, find their way outside the boundary of whatever shirt he was wearing, to tickle at his neck.

He plays guitar. His fingers, long and nimble worked the strings with skill and finesse.

Banana boy, so named because he came back from lunch with a banana, nearly every day. Many days he came back with two. He would give me one. He had a crush on me, did banana boy. I liked him as a person and I appreciated his musical prowess, nothing more.

He would email me, professing his attraction and wish that we could get together. Emails to my office address, during off hours were his preferred method of communicating his feelings. I would sometimes find him watching me. The emails, looks and the gifts of fruit were all that passed from him to me.

Banana resigned from the company 2 years ago. He continued to email me until a computer upgrade forced a change to the office email addresses. Banana did maintain a relationship with a couple of the other guys in the office. I would hear that he had called, one or more would pass along a *hello* to me from him. He never called me directly.

Two weeks ago, a call was transferred to me. The caller hung up when I answered. After a little questioning of the staff, I discovered the caller was Banana Boy. Since then, I’ve been treated a a few hang-ups and even some heavy breathing sessions.

Monday morning I check my voice mail and Banana Boy’s voice rings out. “Hey gay wad, call me!! My number is xxx xxx xxxx!!! Gay wad? I replayed the message four times to be sure I heard what I thought I heard and sure enough that’s what he said. The message was extremely terse.

I’d never told Banana of my interest and desire for women, even while he was professing an interest in me. I hadn’t professed it to myself, at that point. My preferences however, were beside the point. I wasn’t interested in him. His age (14 years my junior) and our working status (I was his boss) being the prime reasons that I gave. There were others, obviously, but I thought these were enough. I expressed these often during his wooing and tried to gently discourage him from continuing his campaign.

He’s discovered, apparently, my preferences. While not out at work, I don’t go out of my way to shroud (workplace acceptable) reading materials I might have on, around my desk. I don't share office space and periodically my personal items might be out and about. I don’t shout it out, but it’s not hiding under a rug either. No one has asked, point blank, but it wouldn’t take much to be led to certain conclusions.

One or more of my co-workers, outed me to Banana Boy. Given the hang-ups, heavy breathing sessions and the message he left on a Saturday, leads me to believe that he doesn’t want to talk about it or to me. I called him back anyway. He didn’t answer, I left a message.

He hasn’t returned my call, yet. I don’t really think he will, but if he does, I'll talk.