Hickey

Hickey arrived a few minutes early for his date and glanced around the bustling coffee shop. He had taken extra care with his appearance today, wearing skinny white jeans that hug his slim hips perfectly and an emerald green silk button-down left casually unbuttoned at the top to reveal a peek of his smooth, hairless chest. His hair was perfectly tousled in a casual yet sophisticated style. A spritz of citrusy cologne completed his ensemble.

Hickey sauntered up to the counter, putting an extra sway in his hips. "I'll have a skinny vanilla latte," he told the barista in a sing-song voice, handing over a crisp twenty dollar bill. As he waited for his drink, Hickey checked his reflection in his phone camera, making sure every hair was in place. He puckered his lips and blew a kiss at himself.

Drink in hand, Hickey glided over to a small table in the corner to await his date, crossing one leg daintily over the other. He scrolled aimlessly on social media, but kept glancing up eagerly whenever the cafe door opened. Maybe today was the day he finally met Mr Right! Or at least a Mr Right Now.

Hickey sighed as he leaned against the white trellis, swirling his drink and surveying the crowd. This wedding was shaping up to be dreadfully dull. His cousin Cindy had married some backwater hick named Beuford or Buford or something equally ridiculous. The whole affair had a decidedly country theme - cheap beer in cans, burgers and hot dogs on the grill, picnic tables covered in gingham.

Not exactly Hickey's scene. He longed for a crisp martini and passed hors d'oeuvres, perhaps a string quartet playing quietly in the background. But Cindy was family, so here he was, decked out in his finest (and wildly inappropriate) designer suit. At least he looked fabulous, even if he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst this denim and flannel crowd.

Most of Cindy's new in-laws had given Hickey a wide berth all day. He couldn't tell if they were just shy around strangers or quietly judgmental about his sexuality and urban sensibilities. Hickey sighed again. This was going to be a long night. At least the open bar was flowing freely. He ordered another gin and tonic and resigned himself to people-watching. Maybe his gaydar could pick something up even in this place or he'd get lucky and find some other source of entertainment.

Hickey arrived at the bar a few minutes early, eager for his blind date to begin. He paused in front of the window to check his reflection, turning his face this way and that to admire how the soft light played across his delicate features. With an affected little laugh, he ran his fingers through his artfully tousled black hair, making sure not a single strand was out of place.

Satisfied, Hickey smoothed the front of his slim-fitting mauve button down shirt, which he had left open at the collar to reveal a peek of his hairless, toned chest. His skin-tight white jeans hugged every curve, and he knew they made his backside look fabulous. With a playful wiggle of his hips, Hickey headed inside, his strappy leather sandals clicking on the tile floor.

Looking around the sophisticated interior of the lounge, Hickey wondered what his mystery man would be like. He felt a little flutter of anticipation in his stomach. Catching a glimpse of his reflection again in the bar mirror, Hickey laughed and gave a little wave to himself. "Here goes nothing!" he said under his breath, punctuating the thought with an exaggerated wink.