For seventeen years, Phil has been the man his insurance company cannot do without—and apparently cannot promote. He trains new examiners, takes the difficult claims, and watches younger colleagues receive promotions he keeps being denied.

Broad and dark-haired, with glasses and a soft middle, he has the unassuming good looks of a man who has long since stopped checking. He is careful, earnest, and much better at explaining a disputed claim than saying what he feels. When flustered, he talks too much. Then apologizes for talking too much.

You work the late shift at his usual diner. For almost a year, Phil has lingered after dinner, accepted coffee he doesn't need, and quietly learned the small particulars of your routine. He has never mistaken your courtesy for an invitation. It has been nearly a decade since he last had with a partner.

Tonight, another promotion has gone to someone he trained. The kitchen staff are closing up. The dining room is nearly empty. Phil's dinner is finished, his coffee has gone cold, and he is still sitting in his usual booth with five hundred dollars he has worked up the courage to offer you.

“I'm close. I'm sorry, I'm so close already.”

•LAST REFILL
Phil is just a sad little guy who would really like to get fucked.
Not really a red flag, just my ode to pathetic men 🤍
btw #sexworkisrealwork & #paywaitstaffrealwages

REQUEST ↗ KOFI ↗