The bougie cafe where I’m picking up my cake slice is playing “Poison” by Bell Biv DeVoe.

And I’m not the only one singing the lyrics to it. I belong way more than I thought I did.



But it was the laughing with the owner, who is Latin and skirting that line of gay/just that confident in his masculinity to hat stole the show for me. He had his white button-up unbuttoned halfway down to free his captive chest hair. And his sleeves were rolled up boss-style.

I’m in love with the whole moment.