I handed him the butter and stirred the potatoes on the stovetop. "How so?"
"Well, one day, she'll be nice to me, but the next day we'll be talking and all of a sudden she'll glare at me and say, 'I don't like you.' And then, she won't talk to me the rest of the day. Pass the salt."
Salt passed. "Strange. She did that today?"
"No, she did that yesterday. Just up and said it, and then wouldn't speak to me the rest of the day. So I said, fine, I'll play that game. And when I came in, I made it a point not to say anything. So, around eleven, she said to me, 'What, not going to talk to me? Going to be like that?' And I said, 'You told me yesterday you didn't like me, so I'm just giving you what you asked for.' And get this, the guy I'm training then said that she has a crush on me."
I tasted the potatoes and looked over at him, amused. "You think she really does?"
Corb turned the ham over in the skillet. "I don't know, but at lunch, she came over and asked me if I wanted to go out to lunch and make out on the park bench across the street. I just looked at her kind of weird and said, 'I'm okay.'"
"Wow." I whistled. "That's the second girl at work that has a crush on you. You're getting quite popular there." A pause. "Don't let them know you're gay."
"I won't! It's just, where were they in high school?"
I smiled. "You think that was it? Because you didn't have girls drooling over you in high school, you turned gay? You thought, well, girls don't like me, so I might as well get together with guys? And then you developed cock fever?"
Corb shook his head. "Yes, Ted, I'm sure that must be it."
So there you have it, folks. The secret gay origin of Corb. Were it not for NOT being lusted over in high school by the female of the species, our life might have gone in a very, very different direction.