Monday, November 08, 2004

90. Dick

Another two weeks have passed since my last entry. How does this keep happening? And why is it always increments of fourteen days? There's got to be some significance behind the pattern...

Jesus, I'm starting to sound like my boss now. And I guess that's how I think of Bruce lately: an incredibly hot, incredibly distant employer. On one of the few recent patrols I actually remember, I caught myself positioning my batnoculars so I could check out his ass in that tight-fitting batsuit of his from half a block away, after the wind blew his cape to one side. I stared at him for a good ten minutes before he turned toward me and gestured for me to join him. I did, then we swooped in on the Barclay Gang and took them by surprise. (I'm getting pretty good with my fighting technique, by the way, and I know I could probably hold my own in a showdown at this point, even without Batman by my side.) When the night was over, Bruce chewed me out for not responding sooner (evidently he'd been waving for a long time before I noticed), and I reacted the way I always have when a boss loses his temper: I zoned out, waiting for the moment to end.

The more I acknowledge my feelings for him, the more difficult it is to work alongside him. He's gorgeous, he's strong, he's the smartest man I know, he's a hero to an entire city... and he's a complete and total asshole half the time.

The worst part of it was last Tuesday night, when I really, really wanted to stay home and monitor--then mourn--the election results, and Batman insisted I join him on a stakeout instead. I know fucking well that Bruce voted for Bush, even though we never ever talk politics, and that thought infuriates me. (He's probably the only person I'll ever know who stands to benefit directly from W's economic policies, and that's only because he's so goddam fucking loaded. But I can't go on about this any more. Not here, at least.)

Oh, and news of Robin has definitely started to spread, this time through the gay community. On the cover of one of the local bar rags there's a picture of two guys dressed (more or less) like Batman and me, under the headline "Gotham's Newest Twosome?" Inside there's this totally bitchy, very badly written article full of gossip and innuendo, plus some much raunchier photos with the cover boys. The writer is way off base about pretty much everything, particularly my age--he describes somebody 5-10 years younger than me, and the guy in the photo spread looks about 5-10 years younger than that... which I must say is kind of flattering. Every time I see the magazine I want to point to the pictures and tell the nearest stranger, "That's ME!" But it isn't me, of course, and I can't open my mouth to a soul about the subject in any case. (I haven't even shown the thing to Bruce; my guess is he hasn't seen it yet, and god only knows how he'd react.)

Back to reality. Here's hoping I can manage another entry in less than two weeks next time.