“So, young man, what has you so upset? Homesickness?”
“Uh, sort of.” There was no way I could tell him I was travelling to tell another bloke I loved him. The priest seemed nice enough, but I knew that’d soon change once he knew I was a poof.
“I’m on a bit of a journey myself.” He looked slightly sad. I didn’t think I ought to ask him what he meant, but he went on anyway. “I’m going to visit my sister in Charleston, West Virginia.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “That sounds nice.” I knew I was no good at making polite conversation at the best of times, but when it was a priest, I was really lost. At least he hadn’t started going on about God.
“Oh, she means well, I suppose.”
Looking at my timetable, I saw that my bus was also going to Charleston, so I asked him if he was on my bus.
“Yes. Perhaps we could visit during the night, it might make the journey pass a little more pleasantly?”
“Uh, yeah.” Why did the Yanks always say visit like that?