Flash: Gay Toothpaste

He is sweating in front of my counter. ‘I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for gay toothpaste.’

I frown at him. ‘Does that even exist?’

‘Um, my girlfriend was talking about it.’

‘So, why do you want it?’

‘Because… I’m gay,’ he looks around to make sure nobody is close enough to hear.

‘Does your girlfriend know?’ I ask.

‘Err, no,’ he says.

That’s not very fair, I think, but I don’t say anything. I am obliged to help. 

This department store has most things that I can think of and a lot I can’t. I take him to the dental area but it is not there. We try male grooming products, no gay toothpaste to be found.

‘Why aren’t you Out?’ I ask, trying to make conversation as I lead him down a swooping staircase to another section of the shop.

‘Snakes and Ladders,’ he says, by way of explanation. I am no wiser.

After several more failures including an embarrassing bisexual boxers blunder I take him to my last resort. I summon the lift and we wait patiently for it to arrive.

‘She dumped me,’ he says, as we stand waiting, ‘my girlfriend.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We were in the supermarket arguing about toothpaste, and she said we needed different brands and that it was over.’

I watch the numbers light up as the lift grudgingly makes its way down from the thirtieth floor.

 ‘She told me she was in love with the postman. I should have realised; she kept ordering things that wouldn’t fit through the letter box so he’d have to knock. It was me that opened the door when he delivered Snakes and Ladders. He did have nice legs, I'll give her that.’

The lift finally arrives and we get in. I press the bottom button and we travel down to the sub-basement, which is where the Miscellaneous section is. Young Michael works here; a lovely lad, but shy, and so this department, that people rarely visit, suits his introspective nature.

We walk out of the lift as Michael is bringing in large boxes of stock to unpack.

‘This is Miscellaneous Michael,’ I tell my customer, ‘If he can’t help you then nobody can!’

The two young men glance at each other. Michael, I notice, looks rather fetching in his fitted work shirt, and has a healthy gleam about him.

‘Gay toothpaste,’ I say to him.

His mouth drops.

‘What?’ I ask.

He nods down to the box he is holding, which I now see is full of rainbow-patterned toothpaste tubes.

‘Perfect timing!’ I say.

The two lads grin at each other.

I have fulfilled my purpose so leave Michael to make the sale.