QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Makin’ Copies

Makin’ Copies
By Steve Prince
When I’m not working on my graduate degree, I work at a law office. I started working there when I first moved to Los Angeles, back in the days when I wanted to be an actor. I started the job as an office bitch; to this day you can call the senior partner’s cellphone and you’ll be greeted by my voice. Five years later, what am I doing? Well, pretty much the same thing except now I do filings with the court, some legal research, and organize aspects of the office setup. Long story short — I’m a glorified office bitch. The great thing about my job is not the actual job, but the people — especially my boss.
My boss is Jay Day, the firm office manger. Yes, his first name is Jay and his last name is Day. It’s like his mother knew he was going to be a raging homosexual. He’s a fifty-year-old man with the enthusiasm of a twenty-five-year-old. Maybe that’s why his partner of ten years is my age; that boy has to keep up with Jay Day. Jay Day (you never say just his first name— it doesn’t sound as good) was raised in a Jewish family in Los Angeles. However, at nineteen Jay Day converted to the Mormon Church. He served as a missionary and was on the traveling church dance team for fifteen years. Yes yes, the traveling church dance team. Being a dancer all his life, Jay Day is a world-champion ballroom dancer and a world-champion Latin dancer. Finally at thirty-five, Jay Day came out, quit the Mormon church, and started a hugely successful, all-male ballroom dancing class in West Hollywood. Jay Day and I get along famously. We call one another “Girl” at the office and he brings me tagged pages from magazines that contain hot men. Because of him, I saw the movie HAIRSPRAY nine times. Yes, this man is queerer than Christmas, and he’s amazing.
When you work at a law office one of the main activities of daily office life is living at the copier. Yeah, you know where I’m going with this; I am a copy boy. It’s almost something I’m proud of. Give me something you need a copy of and I can collate it, staple it, hole punch it (three-punch or two-punch), two-side it, book format it, scan it, and on and on. The copier also takes a little bit of my soul with every molecule of toner put onto a page. As I sit almost hypnotized by the rhythmically flashing green light, I contemplate why in God’s name I got a undergrad degree in opera of all things and how I actually became proficient in the ways of the copier. Thankfully, my hypnotic trances have been shorter since I started grad school— Momma can see the way out. Still, I’d resigned myself to hate the copier like a new pimple on the night of prom — but then Grant came along.

I’ll never forget the day I met Grant. I was working on brief one day at the front reception desk when I heard the office door open. Since I’d been working there so long, I had become familiar with the sound of certain attorney’s shoes, the rhythm of their gait, and even the sound of his breathing. Yes, I’d be an amazing stalker. I heard steps I didn’t recognize and before I could look up, a deep warm baritone voice announced his arrival.
“Hi, how are you?” he said.
I looked up. Shit the bed. This man was handsome with a capital “H” — his features sharp and well-defined, his light olive skin and clean-shaven head spattered with freckles, his aqua eyes beamed through long dark-brown eyelashes. A strong, sharp Roman nose defined his face, his extremely square jaw gave him the appearance of a man who would grace the cover of Outdoors Magazine. He smiled; his teeth, white and straight, but not too straight. Whew. Only one word could describe this man; he was a hunk. I know that word isn’t thrown around much anymore but that’s exactly what he was, a hunk.
He pressed his lips together and swallowed. The muscles in his mouth seemed to ripple. Unconsciously, I let my pen gingerly slip out of my right hand.
“Whoops,” he said. Before I could say a word, he reached down to pick up the pen as I remained seated in the office chair.
“Hi, I’m Grant,” he said, flashing his smile, still down on one knee.
“Um…” I actually had to think to respond. “Hello, I’m Steve.” I took the pen while he extended his other hand to shake mine. His touch was warm.
“Nice to meet you,” he said while rising. “I’m here on the behalf of Toshiba. I’m the new account representative.”
This news saddened me. I didn’t really care for the copier we had now, but I knew Jay Day did not want to deal with changing copiers. It was simply too much hassle and Jay Day didn’t have time for that. I was crush-broken because I knew that Jay Day would dismiss Grant, just like every other representative. I would never see this gorgeous man again. He’d just be another one of the anonymous strangers I catalog in the back of my mind, to one day resurrect and beat off to.
“Are you in charge of the copiers?” Grant asked.
“Oh me,” I said. “Oh no, you need to speak to the office manager, Jay Day.”
“What?” Grant said smiling. “You seem like someone that would be running the place! Well, at least they put you at the front. Not many other offices have employees that seem as pleasant as you.”
Wow. What a complete line of bullshit and I gobbled it up like a cumwhore in a bath house.
I felt myself flush. “Well,” I said cocking my head to the side as if the compliment literally hit my left cheek. “I just am here trying to do a good job no matter what.” Okay, that sounded suave at the time. Of course now I realize I sounded like a complete bumbling idiot. Trying to do a good job? What am I, a firefighter who just saved a family of eight? No, I’m a motherfucking copy boy!
“Well,” he said raising an eyebrow. “I can see that.”
I giggled. All I needed was a Nelly Olsen wig to complete my complete regression into a girl. “Let me get Jay Day for you.” I said getting up.
I walked to Jay Day’s office. His hands were a blur, furiously typing away.
“Jay Day.” I said.
“Hey girl” Jay Day said without stopping. “What’s up?”
I knew I was going to have to sell it to keep Grant around. “Hot man alert at the front desk!”
Jay Day stopped typing. “Who girl?”
“His name is Grant. He’s a rep with Toshiba. Now —” I said quickly as I could see Jay Day was about to send Grant away, discarded with the other salesman, “you need to meet with this man. Even if we don’t change anything, you need to see this man.” I paused to add dramatic effect, “He’s a hunk.”
“Ohh”, Jay Day smiled and leaned back in his chair. “A hunk, huh.” He pursed his lips thinking for a minute. “Well, it’s his lucky day — or mine! Send him in.” Jay Day chuckled.
“Grant, you wanna come on my back?” I said as I walked to the front.
Grant stopped and it was then that I realized what I said. What a motherfuckin’ Freudian slip, Steve. Smooth.
“I mean”, I recovered quickly. “Do you want to come on back to meet with Jay?”
Grant raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I’d love to,” he said knowingly. “By the way, here’s my card. I want you to be able to contact me.” He walked by while I watched his ass like a fat boy pressed to the window watching an ice cream truck tinkle down the street.
Grant and Jay Day’s meeting lasted for an hour. This never happens because Jay Day is incredibly busy at work and if he ever takes meetings they last literally minutes. After Grant left, Jay Day walked out of his office smiling. He didn’t say a word for the rest of the afternoon but just kept smiling.
I, of course, immediately looked up Grant to see if he was on Myspace. He was! Dammit! His profile was private, however I could see his one profile picture. In the picture he sits behind the wheel of what looked like a Jeep wearing a cut-off shirt with his bicep bulging. He also had tattoos all up and down his arm. Jeeeeezzzuhhs help me. I immediately showed Jay Day. He just giggled.
Copying suddenly became my favorite office activity. I’d stand there transfixed in the iridescent green light daydreaming about Grant fucking the hell out of me. I’d be bent over the copier as he’d keep pressing the start button over and over. Papers clips would fly dangerously through the air in the moment of passion. Luckily, we had all the time in the world because I’d sneak him in my office after hours. Soon, the even the smell of copy paper would give me a chubby. I thought about taking some home and putting it by my bed so I could imagine Grant and our passionate office sex, but that’d be silly… right?
If I had a crush on Grant then Jay Day was in love. Over the next few weeks, my boyfriend (er… I mean Grant) continued to come by and call our office. Soon Grant was coming to the office bowling night and inviting Jay Day to go watch him play softball. When Grant came in the office, I noticed that Jay Day would always stop whatever he was doing to speak to Grant. Let’s be honest, I did everything but practically offer him a hand job. All the while, it seemed that Grant knew what was going on and I think he enjoyed it. It was hard to tell because Jay Day and I didn’t get ONE GAY VIBE FROM THIS MAN. Maybe he was just a good salesman and Jay Day and I were seeing what we wanted to see.
Finally, Grant had sealed the deal. Our new copier arrived and was installed. And like the quickness of my erection when Grant spoke, Grant was gone. It was too soon. I looked at the copier in disgust. I hated it. It took away my summer love. I didn’t care that it was faster, easier, and more eco-friendly. Grant was not in my life, God dammit!
It wasn’t until a month later that Grant and I could share our final goodbye. I was in my local grocery store shopping for lettuce — okay okay, I was buying double stuffed Oreos. I was in mourning bitches! Suddenly I hear, “Hey Steve.” Already recognizing that warm baritone voice, I quickly fuss with my hair, turn, and smile. There was Grant wearing a wife beater with his tattoos in full view. Hunk. Also in full view was the girl he was with. Slut. I’m sure the smile on my face twitched ever so slightly. Maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s a friend?
“Steve, this is my girlfriend, Jackie,” Grant said happily.
Or maybe it’s a cunt. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! In slow motion, I wanted to fall to my knees in the middle of the bread aisle, while shaking my fists in the air bemoaning the cruel fates above. Fuck Oreos — I wanted donuts now! Instead, I politely shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“The pleasure is mine,” I responded. Bitch. I don’t remember the rest of our five-minute conversation. Grant was cheating on me; we were done.
The next day I went into work. I had to tell the news to Jay Day.
“Girl! I know he’s got a girlfriend,” Jay Day said with a waver of her hand. “I already met her weeks ago.”
“But, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“Shut the door,” Jay Day advised.
I did. Jay Day opened his desk drawer and pulled out a card. He handed it to me to read.
On the front was written, To Jay with a smiley face.
The card inside was a simple card with the words “Thank you” and the inside was blank except for some scribble. It read, Thanks so much for your business. I look forward to our continued relationship. Yours-Grant P.S. Where the hell did you learn to do that by the way?
“Do what?” I asked innocently.
Then Jay Day told me that he had given Grant head. Apparently, it only happened once. That’s all that Jay Day needed to do and he said that Grant seemed to have an out of body experience. I couldn’t believe it. One part of me was so happy for Jay Day, but admittedly another part was jealous. Grant was my summer boyfriend; I was supposed to give him head.
I stared at Jay Day in disbelief.
“But he’s straight?” I asked.
“Honey,” Jay Day said with a smirk, “when I’m the negotiator, nobody’s that straight”.
What? Jay Day! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The hotness that was Grant was because, he was Grant, but, admittedly, a large part of it was because I thought he was completely straight. Was the fantasy having him or not having him? I confused myself.
“Now,” Jay Day said with a chuckle, “can you please go and copy the new agreement for my files?” He handed me a document.
Robotically, I walked down the grey hallway paved in a dingy brown carpet. I walked into the copy room to the new copier, gleaming with fancy buttons and bright lights. I placed the paper in the tray and pressed start. I gazed unfocused at the blank wall in front of me, the green light passing ghostly across my face. But not all was in vain.
When I left the office two hours later, I took a ream of copy paper, just in case.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles-he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears — Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey