BUILD-A-BEAR SWEAT Shop was vibrating as we approached, the building shaking with the beat of the music coming from inside. I could almost convince myself we were going inside Jack It.
Unfortunately, that belief immediately died when the group of men standing in line noticed us.
They reminded me of that picture of Charlie in front of Jack It with Vaguyna. They looked rough and hard, their leathers polished and shining in the streetlights. Some showed barely any skin at all, wearing leather shirts and jackets and pants and boots. Others wore less than Vince, and I couldn’t believe they could legally stand on the street without getting arrested.
But aside from the fact that they looked intimidating (and like they actually belonge
d there), I was comforted to see the men in all shapes and sizes. Some were jacked like Vince and Darren. Quite a few were heavier than Paul. There were even guys as skinny as I was, and no one seemed to give a shit. There were a few black guys, even more Latinx, and I even saw an Asian dude wearing a black leather mask that covered his mouth and chin. I hadn’t expected that, but it seemed to come from my own prejudice. I didn’t know why I’d thought leather was a white thing.
But regardless of the spectrum the men in line covered, they seemed to be able to pick out we were newbies almost immediately.
“Hi!” Vince said as we walked slowly to the back of the line. “I really like your collar! Whoa, dude, look at you! That’s the biggest nose ring I’ve ever seen! Rock on. Hi! Hello. What’s going on? How are—dude! Do you have a tail? That’s hard-core. Congrats on that. Paul. Paul. Look at the tail!”
We were only halfway toward the back of the line.
Everyone turned slowly to watch us as we passed. I tried not to shy away from them, reminding myself I had every right to be here. Just when I thought we were in the clear, an absolute brick wall of a man stepped out of line in front of us. He was older and grizzled but still undeniably powerful. He wore a leather vest with nothing underneath, and his hairy chest was covered in tattoos I could barely make out in the low light. He was chewing on an unlit cigar and had a stern look on his face.
“What do we have here?” he asked, sounding as if he were gargling with a mouthful of rocks. “And who might you be, pretty?”
I thought he was talking to Vince. His expression had turned lecherous, which tended to happen with Vince.
So imagine my surprise when he leaned toward Paul, a glint in his eyes that I didn’t like.
Paul looked around. “Are you talking to me?”
The man moved the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “Ain’t no one else looking as pretty as you.” He eyed Paul up and down, gaze crawling over the slope of his stomach. “I don’t know if I’ve seen you before. I’d remember.”
“Oh,” Paul said. “Well. Thank you? That’s… weird. I mean nice! That’s nice of you.”
The man’s friends laughed behind him as the man said, “Ain’t nothin’ nice about me. But I’m sure you’ll find that out.”
“Is he hitting on Paul?” Vince whispered to me.
“I… think so?” I whispered back. “Either that or we’re about to get in a gang fight.”
“Oh,” Vince said. “I don’t know which one is worse. He looks like he wants to eat my husband.”
“Well,” I said, “maybe he thinks Paul tastes like hamburger, with how much cow we’re wearing.”
“That makes sense.”
It actually didn’t, but I was too busy getting ready to throw down should the situation call for it. I almost hoped it did.
The man was getting all up in Paul’s business. “You ever been here before?”
Paul shook his head. “No, I can’t say that we’ve ever been to this fine establishment. I don’t typically come this far west. It seems safer that way.”
The man grinned around his cigar. “I like you. You ever been fisted?”
“Whoa,” Paul breathed. “Do people just ask that now? No buildup at all? Like, Jesus. I don’t even know your name. You don’t even know mine.”
“Then allow me to introduce myself,” the man said, bowing low. “My name is Trigger, and you’re definitely pulling mine.”
“Yikes,” I said. I tried to make a fist that I could use to punch, but it looked pathetic, given that Trigger’s hands were the size of my entire existence. I felt bad for Paul’s asshole if he ended up getting that shoved up there.
“I’m Paul,” Paul said. “And now that we’ve been introduced, we’ll be on our way.”
“Whoa,” Trigger said. “What’s the rush? You can stay here with—”