I snuggled into the cold leather couch in the lobby quietly waiting my turn. In a chair to the right of the sofa, a guy in his 20’s nervously fidgets; running his fingers through his dingy blonde hair, his leg shaking bouncing his arm perched on his knee. “This guy’s a wreck,” I say to myself trying to keep his personal chaos from upsetting me. This isn’t an easy thing to do but come on man, get a grip.

It’s Friday. I took the day off to spend with my best friend who is coming in for the holiday weekend. He is one of six friends who will be here for the next four days. Before I tackled the dirtiness of my apartment I wanted to run a few errands; wash the car, buy some stuff for the kitchen and grab a little lunch.

Earlier today I took full advantage of my morning at home by logging on and finding myself a diversion by the screenname of StudNW. That’s one of the best things about having a weekday off every now and then; you get to try out guys who aren’t usually on your schedule. While online, I noticed an ad for HIV testing touting results “Now in only 15 minutes”. I was a couple of months behind in getting my yearly exam so it seemed like a good idea and today was a perfect time to kill 15 minutes.

The clock turns 11:30 and I’m asked into the testing room. I leave the leather couch and the kid who I’m hoping gets good news otherwise he’s gonna be a basket case.

I sit in a white plastic chair by the window. Next to it is a wooden cabinet neatly stocked with various medical supplies. The walls are splashed with yellowing posters warning of diseases that I may or may not know I have yet. Yeah, this is really comforting.

The woman administering the test explains that she will stick my finger then draw a drop of blood into a small white piece of plastic resembling a pregnancy test. As the test does it’s thing, we chat. She tells me how more married couples in Austin are testing positive more than ever before. I try to stay interested as I steal quick glances at the clock. Damn, this is a long 15 minutes.

The woman finally picks up the tester and takes a look. Her face changes a bit, “Two lines show a reaction,” she says, “One line is a negative reaction.” She lays the piece of plastic in front of me. It has one line… and one very faint pink line.
“This light line concerns me,” I hear from her in a more serious but unalarming tone. I now have to take a second test.

The woman prepares the syringes and explains a standard full blood test will give more in-depth results but I will have to wait two weeks to find out what’s going on. I have friends on their way here. This is a holiday weekend. Today is my day off and my life is hanging on a pink line. I can’t tell them.