The Li’l Gay Dude

by Jeff Baker

My Brother and I were renting an old house for about a year when he started joking about the thermometer by the front door. It was one of those things with a digital display, this one showing a line drawing of a smiling young man, usually attired for the day’s weather either in shorts, a rain coat with an umbrella, a parka, even swim trunks while the image behind him was of like sun, rain or snow and the current temperature was displayed beside him.

Patrick joked that the display guy looked like that Gay You Tube guy I’d been crushing on. I laughed and we both started calling the guy on the thermometer “The Li’l Gay Dude.”

To myself, I grumbled that the crush on the You Tube guy was about as practical as my bust of a love life had been lately. But Patrick actually tried to help out. He fixed me up on a blind date with this guy he knew from work.

“Is he Gay?” I asked. (I’d been set up on a date with a straight guy once!)

“Of course!” Patrick said. “He’ll meet you at the Monarch downtown at one o’clock Saturday.”

“Afternoon, right?” I asked.

Patrick just glared and laughed.

Saturday arrived and I was dressed in my best jeans, a shirt that wasn’t too fancy for a sandwich bar (I hoped) and I headed out the door, giving a glance at the thermometer. 68 degrees. Good. It barely registered with me what the figure was doing.

It registered with Patrick. He took a picture of it with his phone and sent it to me.

The Li’l Gay Dude was standing there frowning, holding out his hand, thumb down.

The date went okay, but later that week I found that the guy had two other boyfriends, a girlfriend and a wife in another town. Open relationships I could probably deal with but not this blatant dishonesty.

Thursday at home I sat down on Patrick’s sofa with a bottle of beer and stared at the pic I’d saved on my phone. Had the Li’l Gay Dude had been trying to tell me something? Or was it some kind of glitch in the thermometer?

Patrick said “glitch,” and I agreed. But we weren’t all that sure.

A weekend later I had another date. Late lunch at this little outdoor cafe downtown. Weather was nice. I dressed casual. As I walked out the door I did glance at the thermometer and this time the Li’l Gay Dude was wearing slacks, a jacket (like mine) and was frowning and actually holding his nose.

Yes, I took a picture.

The date was a disaster. We got into an argument about politics which ended with my tossing a piece of my chicken on his plate and saying “Here’s the part you like; the right wing!” and storming out of the cafe.

“That guy’s started predicting my bad dates,” I said to Patrick back home, not adding that predicting bad dates for me wasn’t really that difficult.

“He doesn’t seem to register for me, just the weather,” Patrick said.

“You aren’t a Gay dude,” I said ruefully.

“This is like a Gay Twilight Zone,” Patrick said.

I just sat there and thought.

I didn’t go out for another couple of weeks. I was getting gun shy. Then another friend of Patrick’s from work dropped by with a guy my age. Introduced him as Brian and they said they were there to see the Li’l Gay Dude. True to form it was just showing the temperature, the Dude wearing a tank top, shorts and sunglasses, a beach chair in the background.

“Probably because you aren’t going out on a date right now,” Patrick said. I nodded.

“Let’s test it out,” Brian said. “There’s a hot dog place a block over from here. Wanna walk down there and get a soda?”

Patrick was grinning at me. I’d sworn no more blind dates. But…

“Sure,” I said. “What the hey!”

We went out the door actually smiling. I ducked back inside to grab my wallet. I checked the Li’l Gay Dude.

For a moment, just a moment, he was standing there smiling in the display. Wearing what even in black-and-white I could see was a rainbow flag t-shirt. Along with a cutaway formal coat and formal striped pants. And a black top hat.

Like for a wedding.

I grinned again and headed out for my soda date with Brian.

—end—