Somewhere in the middle of my twenty odd years as Franklin Bishop, I had lost respect for my parents. However, this revelation was not wholly recognized nor fully addressed until the ripe age of twenty-five. It was Thursday afternoon when I decided to phone my Mother. She answered with an agitated tone but I decided to ignore it and tell her about the awful day I had at work.
I was working in a luxury apartment community for "active" seniors for just a few months but already had a few favorite residents. Unfortunately, one of the most charming residents, Sam, chose the wrong day for a love affair and his heart gave out in the middle of his first and last encounter as a gay man. His lover realized his passing after the fact and phoned the paramedics knowing it was too late to save him. The paramedics called our office to be let into the controlled access building. The driver stayed behind to fill us in on the phone call and revealed the tragic incident to everyone within earshot. This also happened to include his wife (of thirty-five years) who happened to be faxing some documents into her office.