The Bookstore Clerk (5 page)

“Good,” she said to the secretary. “Just get rid of those commas.” The secretary made a disappointed face as Miss Terri turned to me and said, “Come this way.” I followed her into an office overlooking 5
^th
Avenue.
“You wear T-shirts to work,” she said sternly, “with dungarees?”
I winced.
“For downstairs I do, they all wear them. I hardly ever come upstairs unless I have to take something up.”
“What makes you think you’ll fit in? Do you have dress clothes, like a suit and tie, so you can look presentable?”
“Yes ma’am, they’ll be ready when I need them. I can be ready in a few days, just give the word,” and I smiled at her.
Her face remained immobile, looking at the papers on her desk.
“You worked for short times at Scribner’s and Brentano’s, is that right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Stop with the
ma’ams
!” she flared, “Just say ‘yes’ or ‘no!’”
I nodded, very uneasy.
“Yes, but I’ve been here a year and a few months. I can do a very good job, I know I can. I just need a break.”
She glanced again at the paper.
“We don’t have anything right now. The economy is sluggish. But when it picks up we’ll call you. Oh, how much do you make, $1.25 an hour?” she looked at her paper. “You’re overdue for a raise, $1.30 an hour.” She wrote something down. “Thank you for stopping by. Good day.”
I was stunned. Mr. Jennings’s confidence that I could do well meant nothing to her. I looked at her, stood up and staggered from her office. I saw Connie talking with the secretary. She looked at me, smirked, and went into Miss Terri’s office.
“Stinkin’ bitch!” I muttered as I waited for the elevator doors to shut; the secretary looked up at me.
As I got out of the elevator, I saw that Mr. Jennings was waiting for me in the basement. He saw my downcast appearance. I heard Danny laughing across the room.
“Come with me,” said Timmy. He led me out of Doubleday’s and across the street to the outer waterfall lobby of 666 5
^th
Avenue. It had the exclusive restaurant Top of the Sixes, with its panoramic views of New York. I stood downcast at the waterfall.
“I didn’t get it,” I sulked, shrugging like it didn’t mean anything, “The bookseller’s job, I mean.”
But Timmy shook his head, as if he knew differently.
“For
now
you didn’t get it, but this afternoon I have a meeting with Mr. Simmons, one of Doubleday’s top people. We’ll be discussing just that, the operation and staffing of the bookstore. Don’t be upset, a good word from him will put it motion. Things are spinning right now, as we speak.”
“But Miss Terri won’t let it happen. I just saw Connie going in her office. She’ll also tell her she’s against it.”
“Oh, bosh, of course they’re against it. Those two lesbian creeps are always against what a man comes up with.”
I looked at him.
“Connie’s a lesbian? I didn’t know.”
“Uh huh, and she’s Terri’s lover. They live together. Down in Greenwich Village.”
“Wow, so why are they against us?” I lowered my voice, looking around at people walking by the waterfall. “Queers who like each other, just like they do?”
He sighed and rubbed his face.
“If I knew that, the world would be a better place, wouldn’t it? But that’s the way things stand between us; nothing’s any different than it ever was. You just have to stand up and fight, not let them get away with even the slightest bit, because they’ll only take and take until there’s nothing left.” He sighed again. “Let’s go back. Face the monsters, because we’re better than them.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “We’ll know for certain by this afternoon.”
I looked up at him. God, I wished we weren’t with so many people on crowded 5
^th
Avenue. I would have kissed him. I nodded and we started across the busy, traffic-filled avenue.
The store was busy with a noontime crowd, people wandering the aisles, some carrying books that they had chosen to buy, others just lazily looking and biding their time. Mr. Jennings nodded at me and went to help a customer as I headed for the basement. I was nervous and tense but I steeled myself, ready to face anything that came up, just as Timmy had suggested.
Most of the crew had left for lunch but I saw Ramos sitting in a corner, and eating a sandwich while reading a small paperback. I immediately recognized it as a Spanish comic book, one of those pocket booklets found in Spanish neighborhoods, the
barrios,
around New York City.
“Hey,” I said, taking a chair beside him.
“Hey,” he nodded at me, holding his comic book. “It’s lunch time, you already had?”
I shrugged. “Not hungry. What you reading?”
“What,
this
?” he turned the book to its cover, showing a drawing of a large-breasted woman running from a man. He smiled. “
De amar a un hombre
.
To Love a Man,
it means, just silly romantic nonsense, doesn’t mean anything.” He looked at me, still holding the comic. “You ever love anyone like that, so much that you run away from them,
like a man
?” I instantly blushed and sighed.
What did he know or suspect?
“Things happen, you know?” he winked.
I looked at him.
“Yes, things happen. I never thought I could love like that, but there it is. Love as I never knew it. And that’s the funny part. When you’re in love with someone, the world suddenly closes in, like it wants to break you apart for your happiness.”
He agreed.
“You can’t let that happen,” he said, shaking his head. “Man or woman, straight or queer, love is love. As bad as it may seem now, love will triumph in the end. Just remember that, love always wins.”
He took me by the hand and gave it a squeeze. I looked at him and melted. I wanted to kiss him in gratitude. For so long we had worked together, just nodding and tolerating our coworkers and now, suddenly, we were close. He beamed at me as I returned the warm feeling I had for him.
“Thanks,” I nodded, “that means a lot to me. I can’t run away from it, it’s my life we’re talking about, and there’s nothing more important than that.”
I also squeezed his hand and heard someone descending the stairs. We quickly let our hands go and looked at the crew returning from lunch. Danny just sneered at me but didn’t say a word. We went back to work, but with the lovely but quiet Ramos nearby I felt much warmer than I had ever felt with someone before. My small world had gotten much larger and more certain.
At around 4:30 there was a sudden silence in the back of the stockroom, where I was packing up boxes for mailing. The radio, constantly playing oldies but goodies, “Be my, be my baby…” had been switched off. I looked up and saw Mr. Jennings standing with Mr. Simmons, a Doubleday executive, and they were about to enter Mr. David’s office. There were the usual greetings between them and the crew, then the door closed. Mr. David rarely closed his door.
I nervously continued working when Danny turned the radio back up, staring at me. I narrowed my eyes.
What does the radio have to do with anything?
I thought, packing up another book for shipping. Mr. David’s door opened. Timmy and Mr. Simmons came out, walking in my direction. I bit my bottom lip, looking down, and just continued with my work.
“Billy,” I heard Timmy say, “this is Mr. Simmons. He has something to say to you.” he nodded his head.
Mr. Simmons cleared his throat. He was probably the same age as Timmy but very formally dressed in a tuxedo and shined shoes. I’d heard him joke with Mr. David about going to a fundraiser that evening, just before they’d closed the office door.
“Billy, you’ve been chosen as the new bookstore clerk, starting tomorrow,” he shook my hand and turned to Timmy. “With Fall approaching, it will be our busiest season. We have to prepare ahead of time before Christmas is upon us, our busiest time of year.” He again rapidly shook my hand. “Welcome aboard, Billy,” and he winked at me and turned to Timmy. The two were beaming at me. I heard footsteps; Connie and Miss Terri had come down to the stockroom, with Miss Terri around, Connie looked incredibly sheepish, trailing after her but looking like she expected nothing.
“Sidney,” said a stern-voiced Miss Terri, “can I have a word with you about this situation?”
Mr. Simmons’s face showed nothing.
“There is no ‘situation.’ Billy will be our new bookstore clerk.” He was looking right at Miss Terri. “Starting tomorrow. It’s a corporate decision. Is that clear?”
I saw Miss Terri’s face tighten, but she turned and headed back up the stairs, with Connie still trailing after her.
“Well, good, she’s gone,” said Mr. Simmons, shaking his head and turning to Timmy. “The bookstore clerk’s position is your responsibility and, by the look of him, there won’t be any problem,” and he winked at me again.
“Yes, sir, no problem at all. Can’t wait to get started tomorrow,” I said, as they left the basement. I shook a few hands around me but I quickly noticed that Danny and a few others had already vanished; it was after five o’clock, anyway.
I waited for Timmy outside. The evening crew had just heard the good news and were smiling at me, though a few of them just shrugged and went on with their duties.
Timmy came out, happily smiling.
“I told you that you had nothing to worry about. You just have to know the right person, that’s the only way you can get ahead in life,” he said as we descended to the subway.
“It was a very emotional day,” Timmy said when the subway let us off on 86
^th
Street. “I’m spent, as you must be, too.”
“You’re right. I feel drained and exhausted, too.”
But he led me into a men’s store. I needed a new suit for tomorrow.
“But I thought you were going to give me yours,” I protested, “and that we were going to take them in?”
“Can’t,” he shook his head. “This is a rush, and Philip is our man,” he continued as we reached the store. “He makes all my suits. It does take a while to have a suit made, but Philip always comes through with just what you need, like suits when you’re in a hurry and can’t wait.”
We went into the large corner store—“Philip’s” read the sign in the front—and Philip instantly recognized Timmy and rushed over to him.
“Mr. Jennings, what a pleasure! You were here just last week, is anything wrong with your purchase?”
“Not at all, Philip, the sweater and neckties were ideal, but I have a special request for you.” He explained what he needed, a suit for me and in a hurry, too, because I had to wear it tomorrow morning.
“But Mr. Jennings,” said Philip, looking at me, “you know that’s no problem.” By then he had removed the measuring tape from around his neck and was taking all kind of measurements. He immediately found a suit just for me! I was stunned; I didn’t expect such speedy service. A navy-colored John F. Kennedy imitation suit and, even though I’m short, it was an ideal fit. I even felt presidential in it.
“Perfect!” said Philip. “Never before has there been a customer just made for this suit. This suit is you, that’s for sure,” he said, and he nodded repeatedly.
With two white shirts and a couple of light blue ones (Timmy had ties I could use), we happily left the store.
“Come back quickly,” said a merry Philip. “We’ll have a new order in about a week’s time.” We waved goodbye through the window and we walked home to 85
^th
Street.
“I thought I’d be wearing one of yours,” I said as we went in the building and climbed the stairs.
“Today’s rush put a damper on that. But it’s a new job, demands a new suit,” he smiled and opened the apartment door. In an instant, with the door shutting behind us, we both were on each other. He was pushing me toward the bedroom as we struggled out of our clothes and pressed our nakedness into each other. I lay back onto the bed and he jumped on next to me, on his hands and knees, licking my cock and fondling my balls. I shot my jism first, thick heady scum shooting onto his forehead and eyelids, and dripping past his nose. I didn’t hesitate. I kissed him, smearing my face in my own scum. I wasn’t repelled but licked it up readily. In about two, three minutes he shot off but it was weak and tired, as if there was no appetite remaining. He shivered once or twice then collapsed on the bed. He was spent.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, looking away.
I sat up. “Sorry about what?”
“That I take so long to ejaculate.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. ‘Oh, bosh,’ as you always say. I enjoyed sucking you that much longer and savoring every moment while I was doing it. Your cock is just ideal for that,” I winked and again kissed him.
When we finally broke I got out of bed and hung the suit up.
“You got Miss Terri very mad this afternoon,” I said. “Wonder what she’ll do?”
“Oh, bosh on them both, her and that slut Connie. She doesn’t know how to dress properly. Always wearing such out-of style clothes. It reminds me of what women wore in World War II. Simply ridiculous. Terri sets her up to look like that, like an old crone so that she won’t look more attractive than Terri. Holds her under lock and key, that’s what lesbians do.”
“But queers don’t?”
“Of course not, we’re more liberal in our manly view, while women are just plain women. They’re old fashioned, not worth a dime, if you ask me.”
I didn’t care for his judgmental, outdated view; I tried changing the subject.
“So you think nothing’s going to happen tomorrow?”
Timmy studied me.
“If anything does, they’ll both be booted out of Doubleday’s. You can be sure Mr. Simmons had a stern talk with Terri. She’ll be quiet after today’s debacle.”
I marveled. So Mr. Simmons was one of us, too, a queer. Small world, indeed. I beamed at Timmy.
He lay on the bed, nodding his head, and I kept getting harder looking at his half-stiff penis. I couldn’t help it, I went down on him, sucking his dick as if I had all the time in the world, drenching him in my saliva, savoring and salivating. He exploded; I moved off and got a beautiful but weak dollop right in my face. It was exquisitely divine! I loved his cum on me, rubbing it on my face and brow, smoothing it on my skin until it had vanished in my pores. Oh, God, what a beautiful man he was, and I loved him very deeply. We fell asleep holding each other.

When I woke next morning, I felt edgy and tense. My nerves were shot. Nothing was going right. The new suit, which had seemed perfect the day before, now took on a shabby, drablooking appearance; in the suit I looked like a joke, a fake. Not a businessman but a fraud. Not a bookstore clerk but a stupid schoolkid entering kindergarten. Ready to be shamed and insulted at any moment.