I work at the highway tolls. A very simple job, where I spent the whole day sitting in a chair, counting pennies and greeting people. I have been sitting in the same spot for over 5 years now, so I know most of the drivers passing by.
Over the years, you start having a kind of relationship with all these drivers that are passing frequently through your gate. Day by day the greetings get more intimate, as the smile accompanying the simple “good morning” feels more personal. In addition to that, I have noticed that the great majority of the everyday drivers have favourite gates. Sometimes they notice, but most of them do it subconsciously. It feels like they are looking for a specific person to service them.
I am an ordinary man, light brown facial hair and brown eyes, very typical greek characteristics. I am not extraordinary handsome. But I am very hairy. The kind of hairy that people are obsessed about. It seems that the thick brown fur covering my arms is one of the hottest things on me. That’s what I have been told. Even though the mirror is not my best friend, knowing that I have something that is considered sexy, or even fetish, by some people feels very fulfilling.
My story is about another ordinary greek man and his adoration for my furry arms. He was one of my first drivers passing through my gate five years ago. The most sexy thing on him was his wedding ring. I remember that the first time he passed by he was staring at my hands during the whole time. He was that fixated on them that he was not paying attention as I wanted to give him back the change and receipt. He was not a regular, meaning that he didn’t use the highway every day. But I would see him at least two times per week. You may think that with all these people passing by it would be impossible to remember faces, but actually that's wrong. It's not only about the face, you remember them with the whole package. Their cars, props inside their cars, how dirty the car may be, how high or low their voice sounds, how politely they respond to you. You remember everything. So this everyday married greek man driving his grey Audi was one of them that I would always remember. I would recognise the car from the corner of the street and I would lift my arms and prepare my smile in order to salute him.
After a month, I decided to do an experiment to see if he was just astonished by how hairy my arms are or if he is having bi-curious thoughts. As he was handing me over the change, I grabbed his hand slowly, more touchy than I usually would or should do. He blushed and stood there numb with the mouth open. It felt like he was overpowered. It was obvious that he was neither expecting that nor was able to process getting touched like that by another man. His hand was standing there in the air, waiting for me. The return of the change lasted even longer. He almost hold my hand, as he was looking me in the eyes, screaming for some manly intimacy. Stressed by the cars waiting behind him, he drove off.
The next day, he passed by again. Luckily enough, there were no other cars this time. He arrived at my window already blushed, not looking at my arms this time. He was staring me in the eyes. His “hello” felt soft and warm, almost afraid. He deliberately gave me more coins than he should, in order to make me spend more time touching him. I understood his intentions and was as slow as possible, keeping eye contact during the whole process. I gave the change and this time I used both hands. My left hand grabbed his from the bottom, securing his palm as my right hand was returning the coins. After slowly leaving the change in his palm, my right hand slipped to his wrist. I felt him shivering. Shocked, he stood there for what felt like half an hour. His “thank you” sounded so sincere, like speaking from the heart.
This continued for a whole year. Every time lasting more and more, with both of us astonished by how intimate a “handshake” may be. And then he disappeared. I never saw him again. But he is always on my mind. Especially after the pandemic started, I have been thinking that this special relationship that we formed couldn’t happen with the new procedures and health standards we have now. I hope our shared experience is accompanying him the same way it is accompanying me. This ordinary greek man holds a special place in my heart. I guess he is my fluffer. And I hope I am his.