Robert lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Beside him was Ricardo, a man he’d met at Mary’s a few hours earlier in East Atlanta Village. They had gone for a late dinner at nearby Holy Taco and, after a two margaritas on top of a beer, landed in bed at Ricardo’s nearby apartment.
Robert’s mind was, as usual, running a mile a minute. They’d had good sex. Robert especially liked that Ricardo automatically reached for a condom. For reasons he did not understand, unsafe sex seemed to be the norm now. Perhaps it was the myth that HIV infection is easily managed and doesn’t affect life span.
But, as always with Robert, appreciation was immediately followed by irritation.