Just then the lights dimmed, indicating the intermission was over and the main show was about to begin. Any opportunity to rinse out the stain in the bathroom had slipped by—Geo would be onstage in short order, and there was no way in hell Larry was going to miss that. Brushing Crystal’s hands aside, he told her, “No, I’m fine. He’s about to come on. I’ll be okay.”
“Your other shirt!” she cried. “The one you bought! You can put it on now. It’s brand new.”
Larry sighed. He didn’t wantto meet Geo again wearing a tour shirt with his old boyfriend’s face on it. He’d look like some sort of love-struck freak who hadn’t managed to move on after all this time. How awkward would that be?
Any worse than showing up with a big smear of mustard in the middle of my stomach and looking like a fucking slob who can’t eat without a goddamn bib?