Chapter 1 - Dominance
It all begins in the air...
31 July 2012, Tuesday, 2:00 p.m.
Damn! I think this plane’s circling Pittsburgh International. I swear I saw that school and its stadium go by 15 minutes ago. If my watch is right - questionable - we’re about 10 minutes past our scheduled arrival time. Oh, well, I’m not sure I want to be in Pittsburgh anyway, so what’s another 15 minutes in the air?
Chicago was very, very good for me, even if things between Robert and me were getting a little strained recently. Robert himself is a sweetheart, but the baggage he comes with was stressing our relationship.
First of all, I understand all about being African-American (I am so PC!) and gay, but in the end, I was tired of being Robert’s roommate. For about three years, I waited for his family to wake up to the realization that we shared more than refrigerator space, but it never happened. They saw that we each had our own bedroom and our own bathroom, so of course we shared an apartment because we couldn’t afford such a nice place individually. Yeah, right.
Then there was the visiting. The Jenkins’ are sweet people, but they had a tendency to just stop by, almost any time of the day or night, and stay and stay and stay. Every time Robert’s mother, father, sister, or brother buzzed to come up, he spent the two or three minutes until they got off the elevator dashing around the condo looking for evidence of our relationship. Sometimes that meant messing up his bed so that they wouldn’t guess we slept together. Mostly, though, he just left the damn bed unmade, which got on my nerves. I know, I know, I’m a bit of neat freak. It’s not a crime.
Then there was the work I like to do at home, without the TV blaring in the living room and assorted Jenkins yelling back at the Chicago Bulls and dropping popcorn all over the floor or…worse…peanut shells. But forget all that. I’ll miss him and his warm body next to me in bed and his people smarts. I’m good at statistics and sketching, Robert understands what makes people tick.
Never mind, no more bitching. I need to look forward, forward to being an Assistant Professor in the Economics Department at Carnegie-Mellon. If only I weren’t so apprehensive about being in the Pitts, back ‘home’ again. Shit. What the hell is my problem? First it’s bitching about Robert, now I’m queening out about the Pitts. You’d think I was a kid, not 29 years old, with three peer-reviewed articles under my belt and one-third of a book written. Maybe I’d feel better about going back if my father would get over my homosexuality and at least be civil…. You’d think he’d want to flaunt my academic achievements to his friends, but apparently not.
Hell, there’s that school and the stadium again. I wish they’d make an announcement and let us know what’s happening. The plane’s jumping around a bit, and I can see black clouds and rain off to one side - my right - haven’t a clue what point on the compass that is - so maybe this is a weather delay.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, being positive about Carnegie-Mellon. I’ll always remember the University of Chicago fondly. After all, it’s where I got my Masters and Ph.D, where I was appointed to the faculty when I graduated, where I made a ton of friends and where I had some great mentors. However, I was the one who started looking around after only three years as an Assistant Professor. I was the one who let it be known, at last year’s American Economics Association meeting, oh so tactfully and oh so professionally, that I would entertain offers, especially offers for a tenure-track Associate Professorship. And I was the one who, looking at the offers from both the University of Virginia and Carnegie Mellon…
Wait a second…there’s the announcement. About time.
We are circling, and it is a weather delay. We will be landing on the next pass and should be exiting the plane within half an hour. I wonder if my mother will meet me at the airport. I sent her my flight info….
Oh, Jesus, I just saw the most beautiful man. He was sitting across the aisle, one row up from me, window seat. While the pilot was still speaking, he stood up, stepped past the guy in the aisle seat - ah, the joys of flying first class - to get something out of the overhead compartment. Tall, slender, full head of chestnut hair, wearing $2,000 worth of perfectly fitting gray suit.
As soon as he got up and turned to maneuver into the aisle, he saw me and drilled me with an amazing pair of hazel eyes. I was staring back…I can’t even say my gaydar was going off…I didn’t need gaydar…there was no question about his interest. His eyes were already fucking me by the time he was past his seatmate…and I was licking my lips and catching my breath in response.
He got a briefcase out of the overhead, turned toward me, and murmured, “I’m being met at the airport…I have an urgent meeting…sorry.” And he sat back down again. What the fuck?
The plane is starting its descent…more later? Probably.
Go to Dominance - Chapter 2