Busted

I was rocketing down the street the other night and exchanged a few grins with some cute guys as we passed each other. I landed in the DVD store, and started searching through my peripheral vision for the hottest guy, oh, and a little for a movie I may watch later.
My eyes caught the tall dark-haired guy with a cap — I locked on to his dark eyes and we smiled at each other over the DVD stand. Then my phone rang.
I fumbled in my pockets, frantically grabbing for the phone to silence it. The ring tone is a recording of the mini men when they were about three and two respectively, saying “Hello Daddy”, giggling.
I grabbed the elusive and exposing phone, dropping my DVD. Disappearing from view, I answered it, “Hello? … Hello, my little man, how are you?” I said in my dad voice. I stood up, the cute guy with the cap glanced at me and looked back at his DVD quickly.
I turned and perused the rack as I concentrated on the phone, chatting away to the mini men. It’s one thing to almost reel a cute guy in — it’s another to get annoyed at the interruption, it’s just part of the game I have to play.
It’s actually quite amusing. I wonder if they think I’m a pervy dad (I am) or a gay dad (that’s me) or a gay guy who speaks to vertically challenged people with great affection (I do).
My new neighbours also did a double take the other day. The first day I met her we talked about window dressings as she cooed over my art. Perplexed doesn’t nearly describe her face when she saw the mini men constructing a playland in my apartment.
It’s my fault about the DVD guy. I should have persevered and pursued him. Perhaps he was also another dad (he wasn’t), who was picking up a family-friendly flick (he didn’t) who liked men (I hope so). However, after chatting to my minis, I don’t usually feel like fishing for men much.
I offered the DVD up to the guy behind the counter who told me I had overdue fees for Finding Nemo and Ben 10. I rolled my eyes in jest up to the sky at the next person in line. “Kids,” I joked and paid up.