My Farsi Boyfriend

Y NAME IS Michael Leigh Benèt. Years ago I worked as a nurse at Group Health Central Hospital on Capitol Hill right here in sunny Seattle. It was a very stressful job but it gave me innumerable chances to see mankind at its best and worst every single day. I got along well with my fellow employees, and as long as I didn’t disrespect the doctors, my managers, the patients or their relatives, I could keep the paychecks rolling in.

In the three years I was there I met a few guys I was interested in dating. The first one was a dental assistant named David Lupine. David was tall and lanky, the kind of guy people called “string bean” or “tall drink of water.” Because of his height, his pants never fit right. They were always too short. Those who got close to him called him “high waters.” He didn’t mind, though, because he was smart and always had a quick comeback.

David wasn’t the type of guy who betrayed his gayness. You just couldn’t tell. I thought he was kind of cute, but never told him because I wasn’t sure what his position about that was. My gaydar wasn’t fully developed as yet.

One day, a few of us were in the lunchroom and the subject about children came up. One worker said, “I don’t have any now, but if I met a girl who’d give me five, I’d love her forever.” David’s response to that was, “Shut my mouth and gag me with a spoon! If that would happen to me I’d castrate myself on the spot!” I thought that was an odd comment, but I kept my thoughts to myself. The next time I saw him I did ask about it. He stated he didn’t want kids and his boyfriend couldn’t make him adopt any.

Boyfriend? He had a boyfriend? Wow, could’ve fooled me. He later explained it was his ex but they were contemplating getting back together. He also asked me to keep all this to myself because he wasn’t out but he felt I could be trusted.

The second guy I was interested in was an ARNP, an advanced registered nurse practitioner. His name was Tony Wong. Being an ARNP placed his at just one step below a doctor but several steps higher than my pay grade. I got along well with Tony. He had a sense of humor that wavered between sarcastic and morose. The older nurses didn’t care for his bedside manner at all, but he didn’t care. The patients enjoyed his jocularity. He did bring smiles to the faces of those in pain or those hearing incredibly bad news for the first time.

Tony found out I was gay because I sometimes wore a pink triangle pin on my nursing scrubs. It was a tiny gold pin, not one so huge and obstructive that the managers would order you to take off. We had gotten into a conversation about the symbol of the pink triangle, Nazi Germany and their persecution of gay people, and it somehow became apparent that I wore the button not only as in solidarity but also in identity.

I’d asked Tony out one day but he refused. He stated he was continuing his studies and didn’t have time to go out. He also said he feared it could lead to something so he thought it best to leave everything between us platonic. I didn’t learn till later that he had an on again, off again boyfriend and was just trying not to hurt my feelings. Too late. Group Health (or Group Death as the natives called it) may be large, but it was like a small town, a gossip mill at best. If you had a secret, keep it to yourself and out of Group Death otherwise you may as well spell it out in huge letters in the cafeteria.

One day there was a new class of nurse recruits in the hospital. I was hanging an IV in one of the rooms when they walked past the door. Fresh out of school, the six students were being oriented to their new jobs by a manager. Minutes later, while I was writing some notes at the nursing station, the manager walked over with one of the students.

“Michael,” she began, “I’d like you to meet someone.”

I looked up. A male nurse in his early 20's with hair as black as midnight stretched his hand out to mine.

“My name is Shapour Shirazi,” he said.

“I’m Michael Benèt,” I responded, shaking his hand.

“He’ll be shadowing you today,” the manager explained.

“Fine.”

Shadowing me? Well, this was unexpected. I hoped Shapour couldn’t tell my hands were trembling. Yes. He was that gorgeous. It seemed like he was chiseled from a block of Asgard marble and brought to life. Okay. That’s a little...extreme, but you get the picture. Have you ever had that feeling where you met someone and it seemed you got lightheaded, giddy and sweaty at the same time? Well, that was one of those times. Embarrassing, to say the least.