"Yeah, and the second I said it, I thought you were going to punch me, or make me two for two on the having food thrown at me front. I mean, I asked you because I wanted you to be, but that kind of question doesn't always translate with that intent so well. It would've been worse if I hadn't asked, wouldn't it? I mean, I never would have realized we were on a date. Unless you'd asked me if I was a homosexual. And I'm not sure how I would have answered it, because I'm not actually sure what I am. Is that possible? How do you know?"

That's a question that's been rattling around in his brain for a long time, too. It's not like there's anyone else to talk to about it. Anyone else at the office that he suspects of having those interests isn't someone he wants to talk to about it, and he definitely can't bring it up with his father. His father already suspected that he might not like girls, and that was bad enough. There'd been a couple other guys, guys he'd been interested in, but that had never gone anywhere, just like his dates with girls had never gone anywhere.

He pokes his omelette again, feeling a little embarrassed for that sudden outburst. Maybe another long sip of coffee will help him feel a little less silly.