Chipot-gay

I never asked for this crap. All I wanted was my stupid burrito. My simple after practice ritual. But it's hard to enjoy when he’s just sitting there with his dumb face and hair and ugh! Why is he always here now? I keep catching myself sneaking peeks at his table. How could he sit so comfortably by himself like that? Not doing a single thing. Doesn’t help that his phone keeps buzzing. Probably a date he stood up; he’s not paying it any attention. His phone is always going off like that; disrupting everyone in the Chipotle. That butt-wipe. At least have the decency to tell her you’re not showing up. Or put your dumb phone on silent. Oh my god, what a loser. I want to get up and tell him off myself, but he starts to pick up his bag to leave.
Yeah you better run. I bet he can just feel all the side eye everyone’s giving him. Good riddance, pretty boy. Frick! No! I mean--!
“Can I sit here?” he asks from across the table. In hindsight, I should have sat in a plush chair. Ugh, smiling like that won’t get you anything, dipstick. What happened to leaving? My brain is so full of all his dumb that I say, “S-Fine. What?”
Then he laughs. Shaddup and go donate your brain. Ugh. He continues, “A…group was coming in, they need the space.”
I nod and bite my burrito. Oh god, I wish I had brought work to do or something. I wish he had work to do or something. There better be a laptop in that bag. Oh god, what if he wants to talk?
“So my name’s Cliff…” Uuuggggghhhh! Why! Why is he trying to talk, no! This is the exact opposite of what I need right now. But I can’t be rude, he’s already sat down.
“Toby. Er—Tobias. Don’t call me Toby,” I manage to say through the burrito. Cliff’s phone is sitting on the table, and it startles me when it goes off. I can’t yell at him now, he’s already acknowledged my existence.
He tilts his head to feign interest, and a piece of his shaggy hair falls in front of his eyes. I want to brush it away, but ball my fist and decide I want to punch him instead. "Why not call you Toby? I think it sounds better than Tobias.” Then his phone goes off again and I want to snatch it from the table.
“You know you can just tell her you’re not showing up,” I say with what I hope is a glare. My cheeks are hot but my burrito is spicy. He should know that by the wrapper.
“What do you mean?” Sure. Play dumb.
“Your date! That’s who must be texting you all the time. It’s real annoying. Turn it off or something.”
“My…? Oh! No, no, that’s not…” He doesn’t finish because he’s laughing. But it sounds forced and nervous.
“What is it then?” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head and be super cute. “Your mommy wants to make sure you’re okay by yourself?” A toothy smile and about 15 text alerts. “You’ve gotta be kidding.” I reach for the phone to see just what’s going on with him.
“Wait a minute!” Cliff grabs his phone and holds it defensively in both hands. “Let me explain!” He fumbles with the phone and it ends up skitting towards me. I quickly snatch it off the table and open the text messages. My God there’s a ton.
“It’s my sisters, they don’t know how to mind their own business,” he sputters.
As I scroll through the seemingly endless messages I laugh and say, “Who? Precipice and Edge?” It’s a group chat filled with all caps and little emojis. I believe him about the sisters. I get to the top and the texts say, Just go over there! Lol, he won’t bite. Say someone else needed the table. Introduce yourself don’t forget to smile! Do the puppy face. Ew get your hair out of your eyes.
“Oh my God, what is this?” I ask, a little embarrassed for him, and a little flattered. I could’ve sworn I heard girlish laughter from somewhere in the restaurant.
“It’s nothing!” he pouts as he tries to take it back. I almost hand it over when it buzzes in my hand. It new text says, Hey cutie, what do you think of bro’s booty? I drop my jaw and close it fast. I delete it and I hear more of the laughter as I toss his phone back. Whipping around behind me, I see two girl giggling behind menus. They peek out behind their disguises and wave their painted fingers at me.
I turn back to face Cliff and he’s as red as I feel. There’s a long silence as we listen to the phone buzz and buzz. Oh my God why. This is out of hand. I want to bail but I want to stay. I want to throttle his neck but I want feel his hand in mine. I want this to stop but I want to know how it would go. Oh God, maybe if I just pray the gay away.
“How… How about I buy you a drink and we bail,” he says to the ground. I answer too fast to come off as cool.
“Yes! I mean—” So much for that. There’s that laughter again. I stand up fast and head toward the door. “You know what, forget the drink. Let’s get out of here.”
He smiles and follows me out. He’s taller than I’d thought. As we walk, I feel the regret of scarfing down that double bean burrito.

*inspired by a burrito photo and a very homophobic opinion article