That’ll be six fifty, hon.”
Gray handed the bills over with a faint frown. He stood at the counter of a sidewalk diner not far from the gallery called Beautiful Unit, having just made the purchase of a very strong cup of coffee. Beautiful Unit was the size of a train car and sandwiched between two gentrified warehouses turned into boutiques not far from where the Donner Gallery stood. The pale boy behind the counter had shoulder-length hair turned into a mad, wing-like hairstyle called ‘The Eagle’ that was in for the tricentennial. Gray had read about it in Polychrome, which was about the only men’s magazine he cared to read. Lots of good dressing tips in there, very professional. The boy gave him a shy smile when he handed Gray the cup, his eyes dancing with flirtation; Polychrome was also a gay men’s magazine, an oddity in this day of sexual integration, and he knew that there were certain fashions that were usually strictly ‘by boys, for boys’. Some of it he liked, like the silver caps on his lapels which were an artifact of the ‘Sterling Look’ that still had some traction in gay circles. He wore them anyway. This sort of thing probably explained his luck with women, but it looked damned good and there was something to be given up if you didn’t want to look like a savage.