It was only a matter of time.

I changed jobs a couple of months ago, in part because I was burnt out on trying to keep my private life so far removed from my work life. I don't mean that I need to bring my personal affairs to the office every day, but completely supressing everything personal was killing me. In my present job, if stuff comes up, I just deal with it matter-of-factly, and go on.

Cincinnati is a small town in the guise of a city. It's rare that I go anywhere that I don't run into someone I know. So it was this weekend at Sunday brunch, when I was waiting for a table with my cadre country-western dancing pals. I was wearing my khaki UK mocker, black belt, black hiking boots with scrunched-down stone hose, and a black/yellow/khaki raw silk tropical shirt.

While I was checking with the hostess on our reservation, a fellow at the bar starts waving energetically in my direction. It takes a second to see past the weekend growth of beard, but I eventually recognize H____, a middle manager who joined the bank a couple of weeks after I did. We met one day in the executive suite on account of my moustache and have been friendly with one another since.

I approach, we shake hands, and I covet his bananas Foster waffles. He introduces me to his young son, and then looks me up and down and asks, "What's this?"

I say it's just what I wear when I'm not in a suit, and try to wave it off as just another of my eccentricities, not wanting to get into explanations. He surmises that it is a good way to beat the heat, which I confirm.
"So, what brings you here today?" he asks. I explain the C/W dancing thing, and he shares his interest in the same. "Where do you go to dance?"

"Shooters," I reply. "It's a little country-western bar downtown."

"Oh," H____ exclaims, "I'll have to check it out sometime."

"Well, it's a gay bar, just so you're aware," I caution, "and it has a dance floor the size of a walk-in closet."

"Oh. Well, I was going to bring my wife, but maybe not."

"She's welcome, too! I didn't want you to be surprised when you got there."
So, I managed to "out" myself twice in one day with the same person.

It's not like I'm keeping any secrets, though. Two weeks after I was hired, I drove up to Michigan, kilted, with the consultant I replaced to deliver three classes. He never mentioned a word about it. It's just that it's a little bracing when you are not prepared for the encounters. As a trainer in a moderately sized company and man about town, I guess I had better get used to it.

Regards,
Rex in Cincinnati