Five Boys, Three Guys, a Dogwalker, and a Suit

by Siel Ju

boy with black arm socks at Insomnia—Los Angeles
You’re not the usual guy I date, but maybe it’s practical to date men your friends find slightly repulsive.

blue polo shirt guy at Urth Caffè—West Hollywood
You were with a girl who I think was your girlfriend, but you looked unhappy. I overheard you say something about the locus (locust?) of desire. The most important moments are the most mundane ones enacted at the right places, then narrated with insolence.

caffeinated dogwalker at Coral Tree Cafe—Brentwood
We were there before the lunch rush. You gently tied the leash to the parking meter, gave each dog an approving pat before going in. The intimate relationship between strangers.

gray suit sans tie at Bread & Porridge—Santa Monica
You looked a little breathless, like you’d been running, standing by the eye-level shelf with its eight glasses, lined up, lip down. Above, a bronze ceiling fan spun athletically. Cheap brown leather couches crowded into a blank space punctuated by a few large, leafy floor plants. They matched each other, but nothing else. In the corner, a stand of condiments and five wooden pepper mills watched us inhale, exhale in harmony. You were the perfect complement to the setting.

boy eating herring at Warszawa—Santa Monica
You watched my surreptitious shedding of socks, laughed back when I looked up and noticed you were watching. Later, your friend came over and asked to buy me a drink. Societal norms seem an overwrought mass of laughable formalities, don’t they?

boy in oversized art books at library—Downtown
By the time you walked in, everyone else already looked like they’d come to terms with their loneliness.