Twink

Eleven

'I just can't believe it,' I said to Angel.

'Neither can I,' I said, as we walked down the street towards Canal Street.

'So who was this guy?'

'I don't know. He called him Mr Robinson, or something.'

Angel thought about it. 'I have no idea who that could be.'

'I don't either.'

We decided to have a drink at G-A-Y bar, as it was the opposite end from my former employer. We walked up the stairs and into the bar area, where a young guy with blonde hair smiled and asked what we wanted. I ordered a bottle of wine with two glasses. We took it and went to sit at a table over the far end.

'Have you tried applying for a job at one of the other bars?' Angel asked me.

'Not yet,' I said, 'but Gary told me if I did, nobody would employ me.'

'Has this guy really got that much power?'

'It seems so.'

'Might be worth trying anyway. It could all just be a hollow threat.'

'Maybe so. I'll take my CV around a few tomorrow.'

'Would you consider bar jobs out of the gay village?'

'I'd rather not. It's being part of the community I loved so much about that job. I'd feel so disconnected from it if I couldn't work there.'

Just as I was about to open the bottle, the bar manager Tony came over. He looked like he had something he wanted to say. Maybe he'd heard what had happened and wanted to hire me.

'Hi Tony,' Angel and I said at the same time.

'Milo, I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave,' he said.

'Leave? Why?' I asked.

'I can't serve you here.'

'But I've paid for my drink.'

He handed me my ten pound note back.

'I'm sorry, but you'll have to go now.'