My ancient gay mind

Sort of leisurely walk through Vons, and my path momentarily meets that of a rather beautiful 20-something young man who’s conversing with a young woman who’s pushing a shopping cart. And in the span of two seconds I happily find that I’ve granted him permission to adore me unreservedly. And a fulfilled life of accession to each other’s daily demands is beginning to bloom in my imagination until he answers a query from his aisle partner: Cilantro, he says, but it’s in the form of a question, and I realize at once that there can be no future for us.

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