by Michael Reed
I know what I like to think: The mice initially covered up their newfound sexual awakening when the scientists took an interest in it. That's life; sometimes we have to be enigmatic about our true nature, particularly on matters of sexuality. Once the level of interest had begun to die down, the mice made their plans to escape, possibly taking some insulin with them. It would be nice to think that they found a nice field to live in and be gay together, free from persecution.
I got pleasure thinking about Julie Vinegar-Tits of The Guardian finding out what a sham it had all been. Why did I get the impression that she'd soon cook up a theory that made herself look like the victim of yet another male conspiracy? I felt sure that it would be in no way her fault that she'd made an utter fool of herself, as usual.
I wondered how many people had secretly embarked upon private experiments with mouse. Daydreaming again, I imagined someone who had always wanted to embrace his or her sexuality taking some mouse to solidify it and then starting a new life. The darker side was someone who had always desperately tried to fight against their sexual orientation trying mouse and finding it to be a dead end.
Imagine if it had worked. Perhaps it would have become an underground party drug. A dodgy bloke would approach you in a town centre at night and whisper, “Gay night out, love?” You'd then give him a few quid and spend the night, or even the entire weekend, with different sexual orientation.
One morning, while studying, I texted, “fuck off” to Gary. A few minutes later, “fuck you slut” was the reply. That was a bit strong because he did call me a slut once. However, his reply kept a grin on my face for the rest of the morning.
When I walked into The Benderland again, it was a relief.
“Oh, and by the way, Rob,” I said. “I did think about what you said about my humour being inappropriate. And…” I continued reluctantly as it was hard for me to say it. “I'd like to take that standard lamp over there, stick it up your arse and then switch it on, but then, I think you'd enjoy it too much. About the only action you've had in that region in years.” I ended with a huge grin.
“At least you'd be giving some pleasure to a man for once,” he retorted.
It was nice to be back, but I wasn't going to rely on Gay Club as my one social outlet in the future. Having somewhere dead easy to go to had got me into bad habits, yet another comfortable situation that had to be alleviated. I'd find somewhere else to go, and Gary could come with me.
The one that I couldn't work out was John. Of all the people in my life, he had, oddly, gone through the biggest changes at that time. It could have been a coincidence, or perhaps he had reacted to the stresses of the people around him in some weird way. While the rest of my little world was temporally turned on its side, he had completely reinvented himself. Whatever he had been on, I wished he'd slip me some!
The timing doesn't add up, otherwise, I'd suspect that the new girlfriend had been the cause of the changes. However, that happened after John became supercharged by some force from above. I'd been invited out to meet her one afternoon. She was lovely. She was a lot older than John, but I had a feeling that he was into that. What a great feeling to see someone I care about getting something so good. It was great to think of him exploring the world of sex with someone who presumably had a bit of experience behind her. Her body looked bouncy and rude. She also seemed kind, and I could tell that he appreciated her a great deal. Apparently, along with his mum, I was the main family member that John needed her to meet. She told me this while John was getting the drinks in for us, and a bit of dust must have flown up into my eye or something. In all fairness, I did wonder what would happen when Helen the policewoman met Steven the druggie.
I love that guy, and I should because he is lovable, but if I'm being honest, I found it difficult to respect him until recently. He was the ultimate nice-guy, but he had always shrunk away from being himself. I suppose it was underneath all along. We'd have even more to talk about when he started the degree in September.
What had he been getting up to, though? As we were leaving the pub and getting ready to go our separate ways, another slightly chubby middle-aged woman stopped in the street and looked at him with his arm around Helen.
“Not gay now, then, I take it?” she said to him before storming off.
John smirked and claimed ignorance when Helen and I asked who she was and what she was on about.
***
That weekend, John rang me again.
“Can your parents look after the kid on Saturday?”
“They could, I think. Why, what's up?”
“I want you to come out with me and Helen.”
“Erm, where?” I asked while wondering what was going on.
“We're going out clubbing. I want you to come along.”
I had to clear my throat because there was more dust in the air, like there had been in the pub.
“Oh right. Are you sure you want me there?” I felt like saying, Thank you, thank you. I definitely want to come along. I'll be ever so good, and I won't be too sarcastic.
“Of course. We'll have a laugh. I'll drive, I'm not drinking these days. Helen doesn't like it.”
“Okay,” I said, as though I hadn't just been thrown a much-needed lifeline. “Oh, can I bring someone?”
“A new boyfriend?” he asked teasingly.
“I wish. I'm going to bring Gary. You don't know him, he's one of Simon's friends. He's not particularly boring, though. He needs a night out as much as I do.”
I had a feeling that Simon's curiosity would be piqued in regard to my social endeavours, particularly when Gary communicated stories of hilarious failures in manhunting and the witty accompanying remarks that were made by myself.
A night out. A friend. A sense of hope. Something told me that this was all due to mouse in some way.
The End
If you enjoyed the book or simply want to leave some feedback please do so on your favourite book sites.
If you’ve got any questions for me about the book, feel free to pop along to the Facebook page or even send me a personal e-mail.
https://www.facebook.com/tscbook/
[email protected]
Feel free to follow me on Twitter.
https://twitter.com/rhyder
My website has links to personal information about me and links to some of my work for magazines and websites.
https://www.unmusic.co.uk/
Bio
Michael Reed is a freelance writer specialising in technology, gender politics and geek culture. He has written articles for magazines and websites such as RetroGamer, Linux User & Developer, Men's News Daily, Micro Mart, A Voice for Men, Den of Geek, Linux Journal, OSNews, OpenDemocracy and others.
