The One Where Brian Does Some Shopping


What you have to understand for me to come away from this story with any kind of integrity intact is that my job is really, really boring. Working at a luxury furniture store in New York city means your clientele is exclusively billionaire assholes who snap their fingers and point at shit without ever taking their ears away from the cell phones, or, more often, their poor, stressed personal shoppers who look like they're about a second away from crying and...also never take their ears away from their cell phones. The pay's awful, the commission's a joke, and I have to wear heels for eight hours.

So hopefully that at least partially excuses my kind of less-than-moral turn here. And it's not like I lied. I just...didn't fully disclose.

I was on my break when Kurt came and got me. “My ten o'clock just got here, and I think you should take them instead,” I said.

I raised an eyebrow. Even though our commission is shit, it's where just about all of our pay comes from, so we don't exactly go handing off our appointments around here. Plus, Kurt's been trying to fuck me since I started here, so I think I'm well within my rights to be suspicious of him trying to get on my good side. “And why's that?”

“They just showed up and they're doing that sign language thing. What do you call it?”

“Well...you call it sign language, Kurt.”

“Yeah. And you know it, right?”

I do. My mom's Deaf, so I grew up signing when I was at her house and speaking when I was at my dad's.

“So you should take them,” he said. “I don't know what to do with them.”

I mean, I wasn't about to refuse a commission, and I didn't have any appointments that day. But if Kurt thought I was gonna sleep with him for this, he was gonna be gravely disappointed.

I clicked my stupid high heels across the show room to where two guys were signing. They were white, looked rich—but who doesn't, here,—and were both, um...extremely attractive. The taller one had dark hair and looked older, and the shorter one was a shade of blond I would absolutely kill for. They were taking intensely to each other as I approached.

You always said rings were a meaningless heterosexual ritual, the blond one said.

I know, but then I thought about it and realized how fucking gay it is for men to wear jewelry, the tall one said. Right when I was about to say hello, he noticed me and offered his hand. “Hi,” he said. “I'm Brian Kinney, this is Justin Taylor. We have an appointment with Kurt.”

I just still feel like you're fucking with me, the other one—Justin—said.

I'm not fucking with you, he signed, without looking away from me.

I cleared my throat. “Just a little change of plans,” I said. “I'm going to be taking care of you today. I'm Charlie. I'm much better than Kurt.”

I know. I know I should have told them that I know sign language. I know!

But I just...kind of wanted to see where this wedding ring conversation was going.

I told you. My job is really boring.

What'd she say? Justin asked.

That she's better than the guy we were supposed to have.

Works for me.

“Fine with us,” Brian said. He signed while he talked. “We have a whole apartment to furnish and a list of pieces we want to look at. If you have anything you want to tell Justin, let me know, but he has terrible taste and he's boring so I wouldn't feel obligated.”

Yes, terribly boring, Justin signed, pacing slowly around one of our sculptures. Do you like this? he asked, studying it.

Not even sort of. Do you?

It looks like the kind of shit the freshmen do at PIFA.

Why would I be fucking with you? Brian said. It was my idea, wasn't it?

No, I'm the one who mentioned rings first. You were just too high to remember it.

“What can I show you first?” I asked.

What do you want to look at? Brian asked Justin.

Let's see that hideous couch you won't shut up about.

It's fucking groundbreaking design, you philistine.

Justin cocked his head. Teaching you to fingerspell was a mistake.

If there were a couch magazine, this would be on the cover, Brian said.

Then I would unsubscribe.

“We saw online you have the piece from the Louis Carlo Spring collection,” Brain said.

“The tobacco leather sofa?” I actually think it's pretty gorgeous, though it's not everyone's cup of tea. It's a bit...foreboding. It's also incredibly uncomfortable, but rich people never sit on their furniture anyway. “Right this way.”

I led them through the showroom, and they fell into step next to me instead of falling behind, which I was pathetically grateful for, because now I could watch them out of the corner of my eye and I was having way, way too much fun.

Platinum, Brian said. Simple and classy.

I wasn't serious.

I don't understand why you're so hesitant about this.

And I don't understand how you don't understand why I'm so hesitant about this.

You already wear a bracelet with my name and number on it, Brian said. If you're worried about being branded, bad news for you there.

Yes, I wear it. You don't.

Brian gave him a weird look, but unfortunately we'd reached the couch so I had to interrupt. “Here it is,” I said. “The finest Italian leather on the market right now. The construction really is unparalleled.”

This is the ugliest fucking couch I've ever seen in my life, Justin said to Brian.

Brian turned to me and said, “He likes it. And there are a limited number of these, is that right?”

“Absolutely. Only five hundred manufactured.”

Justin sat right down on it, and I could see him biting his cheek to keep from laughing. You've got to try this, he said to Brian.

Brian circled it thoughtfully. No, I don't think so.

You absolutely do. I've never won an argument this thoroughly in my life.

Brian said, No, I just mean I don't need to sit on this to know that now that I've seen it in person, this is the ugliest fucking couch I've ever seen in my life.

Justin pumped a fist.

I struggled, fucking fought, to keep a straight face. “So what do you think?”

Brian tapped his lips thoughtfully. “It's definitely a possibility, but there are a few more we'd like to look at.”

“Absolutely,” I said. 'Can I make some recommendations?”

“Please.”

“Right this way,” I said.

Brian picked up right where they'd left off. So it's fine for you to wear the shackles because you're disabled, but I shouldn't have to do it? That's very ableist of you.

It's such a mystery why you calling it shackles doesn't reassure me.

I was kidding, come on.

Well, you weren't kidding for eight years when I had to approach you like some sort of deer I was trying not to scare off.

I wasn't like that for eight years, come on.

Excuse me if I'm used to tiptoeing around you at this point, if I'm scared that you'll wake up and see a ring on your finger and freak the fuck out and lash out at me. Where do you think I got that idea?

It hasn't been eight years, Brian said.

Yes, I know, we haven't been together for eight years, do you feel better?

No, I haven't...been like that for eight years. I stopped.

It's in hibernation.

It's not in hibernation.

Justin said, This year has been a lot for you already. Taking care of all the shit, the move...let's not push you too far.

Don't fucking patronize me.

I said, “Um...so this is one of my favorite pieces. The gold studs add a nice accent to the leather without being overstated, and it has that vintage appeal but with modern craftsmanship. And it's really comfortable.”

They did a lap around it and sat down, and Justin said, I really like it.

Yeah? It was hard to believe they'd just been fighting.

Yeah. And I think it would look really nice with the flooring, and the gold would bring out the hardware in the kitchen.

Brian looked up at me. “He likes it. We'll take it.”

Justin touched his arm. Wait. Do you like it?

It's stunning.

Justin smiled a little.

“We have a dining table that I think compliments it really nicely,” I said. “That's right here.”

I'm sorry, Justin said. You're right. That was patronizing. I'm just scared. I don't want to push you and have us both end up regretting it.

“Are there chairs that go with this?” Brian asked, and he signed, How is this pushing me? I'm the one pushing you, to Justin.

“We have two sets that were designed for this table. Each one comes with and without arms, here...”

But you're doing it to make me happy, Justin said. Because I've been dying for some kind of...symbol for a million years. And right when I decide you don't want it you change your mind.

Well, I like to keep you on your toes. And what does it tell you that I didn't offer it until now? I was waiting until I felt ready. “And there are upholstery options for this?”

I don't think it counts as waiting until you're ready if you never planned on being ready in the first place.

“Uh-huh, really any color you could want,” I said. “I can show you a sample book.”

It counts. And you didn't answer my question. “Sorry,” Brian said to me. “Just interpreting for him.”

“Take your time", I said.

What does it tell me? Justin said. I don't know, that I finally pushed you hard enough? You got sick of saying no? You feel bad because you know I've had a rough couple of months? I don't know.

“That would be great, thank you,” Brian said to me. I've never felt bad for you in my life and I'm not about to start now. I don't know why these rings are such a big fucking deal. We're already married.

But we don't tell people we're married. Everyone would know. People are going to see your hand and assume you have a wife. A wife.

So then I'll get to see the horrified looks on their faces after I correct them. You know I love the horrified looks. “I like the navy, I think. Justin?”

The navy's nice. The eggplant's better. You know these are two different chairs, right?

Yeah, it's two different styles. This one's better, right?

Definitely.

“We're going to go with this one,” Brian said. “With the eggplant upholstery. Bedroom sets?”

“Right this way.”

Brian said, You don't really think I feel sorry for you, do I?

No. I don't know.

I feel weird about the bracelet. I feel weird that you have to be marked in some way and I don't.

Okay, but see, there it is again! Have to be.

I didn't mean that. I meant...goddamn it, I'm jealous of your stupid bracelet, okay?

You're what?

You have something on you all the time that says that there's someone who gives a shit if something happens to you, Brian said. I'm mauled in some mass shooting, for all anyone knows there's no one who's even noticed I'm gone.

“This is the one I can picture you with,” I said. “It has the same sort of lines as the dining room table, and the bed frame is very...solid. I think this is probably the heaviest thing in the whole store.”

Hear that? Brian said.

Did you just ask me if I heard something?

Figure of speech. She says it's heavy. Sturdy.

Sounds like a challenge.

“What's the warranty like on this?” Brian asked politely.

I did everything in my power not to laugh. “Lifetime.”

Brian looked pointedly at Justin. Did you hear that?

Justin rolled his eyes. Yes. Lifetime.

How about that? “We'll take it.”

I don't want you to wake up one day and realize you're not who you want to be, Justin said later, when they were standing at the register—hellooooo commission. And I don't want to wake up and realize you're not the person I fell in love with.

Christ, you are such a drama queen. It's a platinum band.

Who says I want platinum?

Brian handed me his credit card. There's nothing better than platinum.

If we find something we like, okay? I don't want to go shopping for them or something, head to Tiffany's like some fucking straight couple.

Brian tucked the card back into his wallet. Tell you what. You pick out something you like, okay? Take your time, and when you find something...then we'll know.

Justin narrowed his eyes. Is this a trick?

Brian kissed his nose. It's not a trick. You said it yourself. You've had a rough few months. And you've kind of been jerked around for eight years.

Justin squirmed. I didn't say that.

You did, but you didn't have to.

It feels like a trick, Justin said again, and I could tell he was getting upset. He bounced on his toes a little.

Christ, please do not start crying in the middle of the furniture store. We can talk about this at home, okay?

Justin rubbed the back of his neck and looked down, and after a moment Brian flashed me a smile. “Thanks so much for your help today,” he said, and Justin nodded and signed, Thank you.

“Of course,” I said, and then, maybe because I felt guilty, maybe because it looked like they needed something else to talk about, maybe because I was kind of scared Justin was about to start crying in the middle of the furniture store, I signed, Come back again anytime.

I left them with their mouths hanging open and skipped off to tell Kurt about my nineteen hundred dollar commission.