I arrived at the vaccine centre a little nervous that I might encounter the guy who I’d escaped. I need not have worried when I sat down in the cubicle it was a young woman who came to jab me. When she turned around, she seemed to stick out her backside a little too much when reaching for the needle as if she wanted me to admire it and admirable it was. I wondered if I imagined it, but she seemed interested in me; every so often, she would flick her luscious locks away from dreamy blue eyes.
When she turned around, she said, ‘its been quite a year, hasn’t it, I thought it might be over sooner, and on top of everything, I missed out on last month’s pride parade.’
And she’s given me the green light. I commiserated with her on missing pride and talked about my love of artistry that surrounded pride, like the drag queens and the costumes, along with my mixed feelings about the commercial floats. Yes, it was great that companies acknowledged the LGBT+ community, but it was also maybe a cynical ploy on their part.
On leaving, she slipped me a little card and told me to pocket it. When I got to the waiting area, I sneaked a peek at the card. The card had her name and phone number printed along with a scrawled message: I know it’s not very professional of me but would you like a drink.
I wondered how she knew people tell me that they didn’t think I came across as bi. I decided to slip the card into the front pocket of my rucksack it was then that I saw that I’d left the pink, blue and purple heart on the front of my bag, well that explain things I thought, feeling a little foolish.