Hi, my name is Eli.
I'm freaking out.
BILLY: Calm down, it's going to be fine.
ME: I'm really nervous.
BILLY: Just take deep breaths.
ME: I've never done anything like this before.
BILLY: You'll be fine.
ME: Thanks for doing this with me. I just feel more comfortable with you.
BILLY: It's okay. Auditioning is always kind of scary.
Billy and I were in the fish bowl going over my monologue. People were coming in and out of the black box talking about how they did and it was driving me nuts.
Hank came in looking pretty shaken.
ME: How'd it go?
HANK: The monologue went great.
ME: So why do you look so upset?
HANK: It was from three different shows. I opened with Hamlet, somewhere in the middle I threw something from Romeo and Juliet, and then I just cried out MacBeth!
BILLY: Isn't that bad luck in a theater?
HANK: Yeah thanks, I wasn't feeling bad enough as it is!
That freshman kid Carter--so annoying, right?--came into the fish bowl with Ritchie and Jeremy.
RITCHIE: How's everybody doing?
ME: It's Suckfest 07 and I'm the main event.
RITCHIE: That good, huh?
JEREMY: I've still got a few more minutes.
BILLY: Carter, aren't you auditioning tonight, too?
CARTER: I was going to, but then when I went to learn my monologue I got distracted.
HANK: By what?
CARTER: Huh?
HANK: What distracted you?
CARTER: From what?
JEREMY: I think that answers our question.
I went back to looking over my monologue, and when I looked up again, Jeremy seemed upset.
ME: What's wrong?
He was looking down at his phone like someone had just told him he'd had a hit put out against him by his brother--Godfather, anyone? Anyone?
JEREMY: Um...I just got a text from...
HANK: You okay?
Before he could say anything, Ben walked in.
BEN: Hey, does anyone have the sheet music to Floyd Collins?
Jeremy lept up, grabbed Ben, and the two of them disappeared up the stairs to where the professors' offices are.
ME: Um...confusion?
HANK: What was that about?
CARTER: Jeremy looked pretty mad.
BILLY: Maybe it was about that text he got.
RITCHIE: Only one way to find out.
Ritchie got up and started to head up the stairs.
ME: Guys, I have to focus or I am not getting in this show.
HANK: I heard they added a dancing role.
S-w-e-e-t.
ME: I'm golden. Let's go.
We all followed after Ritchie, and nearly collided with Joey.
JOEY: What's going on?
HANK: We're spying on some bitches. Get in line.
By the time we made it up the stairs, we could already hear yelling coming from the faculty bathroom.
We all hid behind the corner listening, but you couldn't really make out words.
CARTER: It sounds like they're talking about--
ALL: Sssshh!
HANK: Damn the good insulation in there. I can't hear anything.
As if to answer our prayers, Ben came bolting out of the bathroom, which caused all of us to trip on each other as we tried to make it back down the stairs. Luckily, he didn't get that far before we heard Jeremy stop him.
JEREMY: So that's it? You're just going to walk away?
BEN: What else do you want me to do, Jeremy?
JEREMY: I want you to say you're sorry!
BEN: Sorry for talking to someone? Get a life. Maybe then people will actually like you.
Ben turned the corner, looked at all of us, shook his head, and went downstairs. Jeremy followed after him, but he looked really upset.
RITCHIE: What was that all about?
JEREMY: It was about him talking to--
He cut himself off. It was like he was wrestling with something in his head.
Finally, he decided.
JEREMY: Never mind.
He took off.
JOEY: Jeremy, wait!
Joey and Ritchie went after him.
Then from downstairs--
VOICE: Eli, you're up!
I...Hate...My...Life.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Rhode Island Gay Activists or One Big Giant Orgy
Hi bitches, my name is Hank.
I'm going to cut to the chase--
I am not a fan of all these crazy homos, and tonight was a perfect example of why I keep my distance.
Jeremy and I were going to watch each other do our monologues for our audition on Tuesday. Neither of us has gotten into a show at OSC yet--
Actually, he's been in the musicals.
The little bitch.
JEREMY: I like your shirt.
ME: Stop hitting on me.
JEREMY: I wasn't--
ME: You werent'?
JEREMY: Okay, maybe a little.
Jeremy has a crush on me. I think it's sweet. Of course, we're friends, and I have a strict "No sex" with friends rule. I used to have a "No sex with boys" rule, too, but that went out the door faster than the daddy of a teen mama.
JEREMY: So what's your monologue from?
ME: Hamlet.
JEREMY: You're doing a dramatic monologue?
ME: Yeah.
JEREMY: Hank, we're auditioning for a Noel Coward play.
ME: Exactly. That's why I picked a British playwright.
I hate when Jeremy gets all know-it-all with me. If he's so fucking bright, why hasn't he been in anything yet?
He offered to have us go over our auditions at his place so we were on the elevator going up to his apartment.
JEREMY: Ritchie was supposed to come, too, but now he's not answering his phone.
ME: He's trying out for a straight play?
JEREMY: No, he just likes watching me do something and then ridiculing me.
ME: Some find it theraputic.
The elevator doors opened and we walked to his door, where a lovely little note was taped above the doorknob.
Jeremy, call before you come in, Davis.
Davis is hot, not gonna lie. I'm supposed to be ambiguous about my sexuality, but I'd turn unambiguous really fast if he ever wanted to get nasty.
JEREMY: Why does he want me to call?
ME: Maybe he's got a boy in there.
JEREMY: Yeah well, I don't have to check in with him before I enter my own apartment.
He took out his keys, opened the door, and walked in with me behind him.
What greeted us was--Well, how does one describe it?
A big ole orgy.
Jeremy pulled me back out into the hallway and shut the door.
ME: You should have called first. I think you might have needed reservations.
JEREMY: Oh, I'm calling now.
He took out his cell phone and called Davis. After some yelling, threatening, and finally listening--Jeremy can have quite the temper--he hung up.
JEREMY: Apparently, he got all the members of RI-TRI here, got them drunk, high, and god knows what else--and then initiated an orgy amongst them so that when they have to vote on whether or not they should remove him based on moral character, they won't have any grounds to judge.
ME: You got to admit, that's pretty impressive. He's not just going to blackmail one gay. He's going to blackmail an entire committee.
JEREMY: I can't believe there's an orgy in my living room and I haven't gotten any in weeks.
ME: At least you know they're practicing safe sex. They were all at the Condom-a-thon tonight.
JEREMY: The best part is, Davis didn't actually participate. He's holed up in his room.
ME: So what are we supposed to do?
JEREMY: Close our eyes and run for it towards my bedroom.
ME: You first, Don Quixote.
So, once again, we went into the apartment--running this time--only after I made it past the horde of throbbing naked bodies I got confused and ran into Davis' room by mistake. When I opened the door, though, I didn't just see Davis.
ME: Ritchie?
Ritchie and Davis were in flagrante, if you get my drift.
ME: Whoa, that's fucked up.
DAVIS: Shut the door, asshole!
I did, and ran into Jeremy's room.
JEREMY: What happened to you? Did someone try to circle jerk you?
ME: No, but I almost stepped on someone's arm. At least, I hope it was their arm. If not, I might just go back out there.
JEREMY: Did I hear you run into Davis' room?
ME: Yeah. Let's just say, we're going to be the only people in this apartment not having sex tonight.
JEREMY: Well--
ME: Don't even think about it.
JEREMY: I can't believe this. He's having sex with someone? Who is it?
ME: Oh, I didn't get a good look.
I could have just mentioned that it was Ritchie, but information like that is best kept to yourself. I don't want to get into a whole heap of drama with the rest of these trash-talking bitches with their fangs and their gossip.
I'm far above all of that.
I'm going to cut to the chase--
I am not a fan of all these crazy homos, and tonight was a perfect example of why I keep my distance.
Jeremy and I were going to watch each other do our monologues for our audition on Tuesday. Neither of us has gotten into a show at OSC yet--
Actually, he's been in the musicals.
The little bitch.
JEREMY: I like your shirt.
ME: Stop hitting on me.
JEREMY: I wasn't--
ME: You werent'?
JEREMY: Okay, maybe a little.
Jeremy has a crush on me. I think it's sweet. Of course, we're friends, and I have a strict "No sex" with friends rule. I used to have a "No sex with boys" rule, too, but that went out the door faster than the daddy of a teen mama.
JEREMY: So what's your monologue from?
ME: Hamlet.
JEREMY: You're doing a dramatic monologue?
ME: Yeah.
JEREMY: Hank, we're auditioning for a Noel Coward play.
ME: Exactly. That's why I picked a British playwright.
I hate when Jeremy gets all know-it-all with me. If he's so fucking bright, why hasn't he been in anything yet?
He offered to have us go over our auditions at his place so we were on the elevator going up to his apartment.
JEREMY: Ritchie was supposed to come, too, but now he's not answering his phone.
ME: He's trying out for a straight play?
JEREMY: No, he just likes watching me do something and then ridiculing me.
ME: Some find it theraputic.
The elevator doors opened and we walked to his door, where a lovely little note was taped above the doorknob.
Jeremy, call before you come in, Davis.
Davis is hot, not gonna lie. I'm supposed to be ambiguous about my sexuality, but I'd turn unambiguous really fast if he ever wanted to get nasty.
JEREMY: Why does he want me to call?
ME: Maybe he's got a boy in there.
JEREMY: Yeah well, I don't have to check in with him before I enter my own apartment.
He took out his keys, opened the door, and walked in with me behind him.
What greeted us was--Well, how does one describe it?
A big ole orgy.
Jeremy pulled me back out into the hallway and shut the door.
ME: You should have called first. I think you might have needed reservations.
JEREMY: Oh, I'm calling now.
He took out his cell phone and called Davis. After some yelling, threatening, and finally listening--Jeremy can have quite the temper--he hung up.
JEREMY: Apparently, he got all the members of RI-TRI here, got them drunk, high, and god knows what else--and then initiated an orgy amongst them so that when they have to vote on whether or not they should remove him based on moral character, they won't have any grounds to judge.
ME: You got to admit, that's pretty impressive. He's not just going to blackmail one gay. He's going to blackmail an entire committee.
JEREMY: I can't believe there's an orgy in my living room and I haven't gotten any in weeks.
ME: At least you know they're practicing safe sex. They were all at the Condom-a-thon tonight.
JEREMY: The best part is, Davis didn't actually participate. He's holed up in his room.
ME: So what are we supposed to do?
JEREMY: Close our eyes and run for it towards my bedroom.
ME: You first, Don Quixote.
So, once again, we went into the apartment--running this time--only after I made it past the horde of throbbing naked bodies I got confused and ran into Davis' room by mistake. When I opened the door, though, I didn't just see Davis.
ME: Ritchie?
Ritchie and Davis were in flagrante, if you get my drift.
ME: Whoa, that's fucked up.
DAVIS: Shut the door, asshole!
I did, and ran into Jeremy's room.
JEREMY: What happened to you? Did someone try to circle jerk you?
ME: No, but I almost stepped on someone's arm. At least, I hope it was their arm. If not, I might just go back out there.
JEREMY: Did I hear you run into Davis' room?
ME: Yeah. Let's just say, we're going to be the only people in this apartment not having sex tonight.
JEREMY: Well--
ME: Don't even think about it.
JEREMY: I can't believe this. He's having sex with someone? Who is it?
ME: Oh, I didn't get a good look.
I could have just mentioned that it was Ritchie, but information like that is best kept to yourself. I don't want to get into a whole heap of drama with the rest of these trash-talking bitches with their fangs and their gossip.
I'm far above all of that.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
The Happy Couple
Hi, my name is Joey.
Some of you already know me from the other blog I appeared in--
www.thenewrulesofmylife.blogspot.com
Well, now you get to hear things from my side.
I love my boyfriend. He's sweet, funny, and really smart. Before I met Bart, I didn't think it was possible to love someone as much as I love him.
So, you're probably wondering, why am I cheating on him?
BART: I picked up those books you needed.
ME: Thanks. You're the best.
We were just coming home. My car's been in the shop so Bart offered to pick me up at work. He's always doing stuff like that, and it's not that I don't appreciate it, but it's hard because of what I'm doing.
I'm sleeping with John Davis.
Now, cheating is never a good thing, but cheating with the man your boyfriend hates the most in the world is another. I feel like I'm dating a Hatfield and sleeping with a McCoy.
So why am I doing it?
I tried explaining it to Davis the other night when we were lying in his bed.
ME: Being with him makes me feel old, and when I'm with you--
DAVIS: You feel young again? I make you hear Irving Berlin?
ME: No.
DAVIS: Cole Porter?
ME: Maybe it's because it's wrong.
DAVIS: So you're into forbidden fruit?
ME: No! At least, I don't think I am. I just know that I like being here with you.
DAVIS: So stay with me then. Who said you had to leave?
And he put his arms around me, and I...
Well, I didn't feel guilty.
Which made me feel guilty.
Except I didn't.
This doesn't make any sense. I realize that.
BART: I'm making us scallops for dinner.
ME: Sounds great.
BART: Are you okay? You've been acting funny.
ME: Just have a lot on my mind. Work, school--
Adultery.
ME: Stuff like that.
BART: You worry too much. You should try to have more fun.
ME: Oh, trust me. I have enough fun.
As we got into the elevator, I kept thinking how wrong it was that Bart was wearing Davis' shirt. I had worn it home by accident, and what could I do? I couldn't say it wasn't mine, even though it was clearly too big for me. I don't actually think I'm really fooling anyone with all these secret meetings. Bart's either naive, in denial, or--if I'm being honest--a little bit of both. Not to mention the fact that's completely consumed by his feud and the RI-TRI meeting where he's going to try and unseat Davis based on moral character. If he knew what I've been up to, he might unseat me as his boyfriend for the same reason.
When the door opened to our floor, there were four people walking into Davis' apartment, and there he was--the pariah himself--showing them in. I immediately tensed up. This was the moment I'd been dreading. Being in the same area as both Davis and Bart. Of course, the fact that they already know and hate each other makes things a lot easier.
DAVIS: Well, if it isn't my neighbor.
It was then that I noticed Bart wasn't saying anything.
DAVIS: Twink got your tongue?
BART: What are Tim and the others doing here?
DAVIS: I invited them over for a little party.
BART: That's a conflict of interest.
DAVIS: It's a free country, Bart.
BART: Is the entire committee here?
DAVIS: Not yet. Kris is still out picking up the booze. And, of course, you won't be joining us. I'd hate for you to compromise your morality, Bart.
I could see that Bart was about to explode, so I decided to diffuse the situation.
ME: Bart, I'm starving.
Being the good boyfriend that he is, he put my needs in front of his building rage.
BART: We will discuss this in the next meeting.
DAVIS: Oh right, the one where they have to decide whether to overthrow me as President. That should be fun. I'll bring the chips and dip.
He went to shut the door, and Bart and I turned around, but then--
DAVIS: Oh Bart?
I knew this was coming.
DAVIS: Love the shirt. I used to have one just like it.
And the door shut behind him.
Some of you already know me from the other blog I appeared in--
www.thenewrulesofmylife.blogspot.com
Well, now you get to hear things from my side.
I love my boyfriend. He's sweet, funny, and really smart. Before I met Bart, I didn't think it was possible to love someone as much as I love him.
So, you're probably wondering, why am I cheating on him?
BART: I picked up those books you needed.
ME: Thanks. You're the best.
We were just coming home. My car's been in the shop so Bart offered to pick me up at work. He's always doing stuff like that, and it's not that I don't appreciate it, but it's hard because of what I'm doing.
I'm sleeping with John Davis.
Now, cheating is never a good thing, but cheating with the man your boyfriend hates the most in the world is another. I feel like I'm dating a Hatfield and sleeping with a McCoy.
So why am I doing it?
I tried explaining it to Davis the other night when we were lying in his bed.
ME: Being with him makes me feel old, and when I'm with you--
DAVIS: You feel young again? I make you hear Irving Berlin?
ME: No.
DAVIS: Cole Porter?
ME: Maybe it's because it's wrong.
DAVIS: So you're into forbidden fruit?
ME: No! At least, I don't think I am. I just know that I like being here with you.
DAVIS: So stay with me then. Who said you had to leave?
And he put his arms around me, and I...
Well, I didn't feel guilty.
Which made me feel guilty.
Except I didn't.
This doesn't make any sense. I realize that.
BART: I'm making us scallops for dinner.
ME: Sounds great.
BART: Are you okay? You've been acting funny.
ME: Just have a lot on my mind. Work, school--
Adultery.
ME: Stuff like that.
BART: You worry too much. You should try to have more fun.
ME: Oh, trust me. I have enough fun.
As we got into the elevator, I kept thinking how wrong it was that Bart was wearing Davis' shirt. I had worn it home by accident, and what could I do? I couldn't say it wasn't mine, even though it was clearly too big for me. I don't actually think I'm really fooling anyone with all these secret meetings. Bart's either naive, in denial, or--if I'm being honest--a little bit of both. Not to mention the fact that's completely consumed by his feud and the RI-TRI meeting where he's going to try and unseat Davis based on moral character. If he knew what I've been up to, he might unseat me as his boyfriend for the same reason.
When the door opened to our floor, there were four people walking into Davis' apartment, and there he was--the pariah himself--showing them in. I immediately tensed up. This was the moment I'd been dreading. Being in the same area as both Davis and Bart. Of course, the fact that they already know and hate each other makes things a lot easier.
DAVIS: Well, if it isn't my neighbor.
It was then that I noticed Bart wasn't saying anything.
DAVIS: Twink got your tongue?
BART: What are Tim and the others doing here?
DAVIS: I invited them over for a little party.
BART: That's a conflict of interest.
DAVIS: It's a free country, Bart.
BART: Is the entire committee here?
DAVIS: Not yet. Kris is still out picking up the booze. And, of course, you won't be joining us. I'd hate for you to compromise your morality, Bart.
I could see that Bart was about to explode, so I decided to diffuse the situation.
ME: Bart, I'm starving.
Being the good boyfriend that he is, he put my needs in front of his building rage.
BART: We will discuss this in the next meeting.
DAVIS: Oh right, the one where they have to decide whether to overthrow me as President. That should be fun. I'll bring the chips and dip.
He went to shut the door, and Bart and I turned around, but then--
DAVIS: Oh Bart?
I knew this was coming.
DAVIS: Love the shirt. I used to have one just like it.
And the door shut behind him.
Friday, December 28, 2007
The Boy in the Bookstore
Hi, my name is Billy.
I am a new employee of the on-campus bookstore.
Technically, the bookstore is part of a large chain that just happens to have an on-campus location, but I like saying "on-campus" bookstore more...so I do.
I work at the on-campus bookstore, hence I am a part of the campus. I belong at this school. I'm in the cogs. Like the cogs of a machine. I'm rambling.
Anyway...
I work almost every night of the week then go to hang out at my friend Tara's dorm room. We goof around. I watch her try on clothes. She updates her myspace. I tell her she would be my girlfriend...if I weren't gay. She says "Maybe you're not gay." I say I am. She looks sad. She tries on a parka.
This is my social life.
Tonight is Saturday night. Most people are out partying. Getting drunk. Tara spent three hours today in her room. I was with her. I watched television. She updated her myspace...for three hours. Tara's myspace is a virtual media hurricane. It takes twelve and a half minutes to upload it, and once you do, you're treated to photo slideshows, numerous blogs on the musings of life and how Good Charlotte is still amazing because they're so hot (with four "t"s), and a virtual puppy named Togo (that Tara pronounces "to go" like "Would you like that sandwich to go?") I don't comment on any of these things.
I believe in silence.
While others get their whatever on, I'm at the bookstore working. We're open until ten. I'll be here until ten fifteen, or however long it takes to close. Right now I'm at the cash register rereading Franny and Zooey for the eighth time. If you're cliche, you read The Catcher in the Rye. If you're pretentious, you read Nine Stories. If you're just looking to be unique for no reason, you read Raise High the Roofbeams.
If you're me, it's all about Franny and Zooey.
I go to put some books away on a nearby shelf. In the next aisle over, I can hear two guys talking. I recognize one of the voices because I saw the person it belongs to come in--a guy named Jeremy I met a few days earlier. He's with some other guy. They're talking about someone.
RITCHIE: He's all right.
JEREMY: Are you kidding? He's amazing.
RITCHIE: You can't call someone amazing if you've never had an actual conversation with them, and his looks--
JEREMY: He's adorable.
RITCHIE: Who wants to date adorable? If you want to date adorable, date a plush stuffed animal.
JEREMY: Ritchie--
RITCHIE: Date a koala bear.
Oh, they're talking about me.
JEREMY: Don't you believe in love at first sight?
RITCHIE: It depends what the first thing I see is.
JEREMY: I'm crazy about him.
RITCHIE: So ask him out.
JEREMY: I'd rather eat crayon.
RITCHIE: Are you nervous? Should I approach him and ask if he has a girlfriend?
JEREMY: Okay, enough lemon in the wound for tonight.
I guess the news that I'm now openly gay hadn't spread yet.
VOICE: Excuse me?
I turned around to find myself in front of a guy--mid-twenties--holding a copy of John Adams by that guy who writes all those books about people everyone already knows everything about. I can't imagine reading one of those books. It's even better when people who read those books discuss them with each other.
PRETENTIOUS GUY: Hey, did you know that about Aaron Burr?
PRETENTIOUS GIRL: Yes! Did you?
PRETENTIOUS GUY: Yes! Isn't it incredible?
John Adams Guy has already started talking while I've been musing on my imaginary pretentious duo.
JAG: So, do you?
ME: Do we what?
JAG: Carry that?
ME: No.
JAG: No?
ME: No.
JAG: You don't carry Of Mice and Men? Isn't it really popular?
ME: Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you asked if we carried Atlas Shrugged.
JAG: That sounds nothing like Of Mice and Men.
ME: You're right.
JAG: You don't carry Atlas Shrugged?
ME: No, we do. I meant, we don't physically carry it. You have to pick it up yourself.
He laughed at this. What? I can be funny.
Then I saw it. He kind of nodded his head in a way.
He likes me.
I'm not being obnoxious here. Gay guys tend to like me right away. I think it's this sense of sincerity that I have. I am sincere, but I'm not sure why I project it so much more than normal people.
VOICE: Bart?
I turned to see Jeremy and his friend approaching.
BART: Hey Jeremy. Ritchie.
RITCHIE: Bart, so good to see you.
JEREMY: What are you doing shopping at an on-campus bookstore?
BART: Picking up stuff for the boy.
Oh, he has a boyfriend. Good. Maybe he'll leave me alone. Right now I only like one guy, and he's a major c.c. (closet case) so I'm not expecting much progress there. In the meantime, I don't plan on settling for someone who shops for a Founding Father on a Saturday night.
JEREMY: I didn't know you had a boy.
BART: Yeah, his name is Joey. He just moved in with me actually.
I could see Jeremy and Ritchie register surprise. It must mean something that this guy Bart is dating this guy Joey. God, gay guys are so complicated. Why couldn't I have just discovered that I was into something else--like learning French or Miles Davis?
JEREMY: Well, that's--
RITCHIE: Very interesting.
It was then that Jeremy's friend Ritchie turned his gaze to me.
RITCHIE: And are either of you going to introduce me to this handsome young man?
JEREMY: Stop talking like Ian McKellen, Ritchie. You're twenty-two.
BART: I haven't actually been introduced either.
ME: I'm Billy.
The three of them were all sizing me up. It was awkward. Jeremy clearly has a "He's so sweet and untainted" crush on me. Bart was developing a "I like a younger guys and he fits the bill" crush. Ritchie seemed like he merely wanted sex. Don't judge, but I'm most comfortable with the third crush. It's less complicated.
That doesn't mean it's going to happen.
VOICE: Billy!
I was beginning to think maybe I needed to get a less high-profile job. The bookstore seemed to be a gay little hotspot.
Except this time, I was happily surprised by who was there when I turned around--
ELI: Working on a Saturday night? Lameness.
ME: Yeah, totally.
Jeremy and Ritchie didn't seem too thrilled to see Eli. I think a lot of open gay guys feel resentment towards c.c.'s. For one thing, they're more attractive because they're a challenge. For another, here are guys who've taken the plunge, and they can't understand why everyone else can't do it. It's like people who quit smoking. They're miserable and they want everyone else to be, too.
ELI: Hey guys.
JEREMY: Hey Eli.
RITCHIE: Hello.
Bart seemed to be the only one looking pleased. He likes the challenging ones, I can tell.
BART: I'm meeting all kinds of new people tonight. I'm Bart.
ELI: Eli.
Eli made a big show of shaking Bart's hand like a real man. It was a little like watching a kitten put on a sweater. It just didn't look right.
ELI: So Billy, I heard from Tara that you were working tonight, and I was like, What? Um, no! He needs to get out of there. It's a Saturday. I thought maybe if I offered up movie passes and a ride...
BILLY: Well, I guess I could ask to leave early. We're really dead.
ELI: Amazingness. Let's go.
BILLY: See you, guys.
As I walked away, I realized that I was being a little irresponsible, but oh well. I looked behind me to see all three guys thinking the same thing.
I'm usually really good at knowing what people are thinking.
I just don't happen to care very much.
I am a new employee of the on-campus bookstore.
Technically, the bookstore is part of a large chain that just happens to have an on-campus location, but I like saying "on-campus" bookstore more...so I do.
I work at the on-campus bookstore, hence I am a part of the campus. I belong at this school. I'm in the cogs. Like the cogs of a machine. I'm rambling.
Anyway...
I work almost every night of the week then go to hang out at my friend Tara's dorm room. We goof around. I watch her try on clothes. She updates her myspace. I tell her she would be my girlfriend...if I weren't gay. She says "Maybe you're not gay." I say I am. She looks sad. She tries on a parka.
This is my social life.
Tonight is Saturday night. Most people are out partying. Getting drunk. Tara spent three hours today in her room. I was with her. I watched television. She updated her myspace...for three hours. Tara's myspace is a virtual media hurricane. It takes twelve and a half minutes to upload it, and once you do, you're treated to photo slideshows, numerous blogs on the musings of life and how Good Charlotte is still amazing because they're so hot (with four "t"s), and a virtual puppy named Togo (that Tara pronounces "to go" like "Would you like that sandwich to go?") I don't comment on any of these things.
I believe in silence.
While others get their whatever on, I'm at the bookstore working. We're open until ten. I'll be here until ten fifteen, or however long it takes to close. Right now I'm at the cash register rereading Franny and Zooey for the eighth time. If you're cliche, you read The Catcher in the Rye. If you're pretentious, you read Nine Stories. If you're just looking to be unique for no reason, you read Raise High the Roofbeams.
If you're me, it's all about Franny and Zooey.
I go to put some books away on a nearby shelf. In the next aisle over, I can hear two guys talking. I recognize one of the voices because I saw the person it belongs to come in--a guy named Jeremy I met a few days earlier. He's with some other guy. They're talking about someone.
RITCHIE: He's all right.
JEREMY: Are you kidding? He's amazing.
RITCHIE: You can't call someone amazing if you've never had an actual conversation with them, and his looks--
JEREMY: He's adorable.
RITCHIE: Who wants to date adorable? If you want to date adorable, date a plush stuffed animal.
JEREMY: Ritchie--
RITCHIE: Date a koala bear.
Oh, they're talking about me.
JEREMY: Don't you believe in love at first sight?
RITCHIE: It depends what the first thing I see is.
JEREMY: I'm crazy about him.
RITCHIE: So ask him out.
JEREMY: I'd rather eat crayon.
RITCHIE: Are you nervous? Should I approach him and ask if he has a girlfriend?
JEREMY: Okay, enough lemon in the wound for tonight.
I guess the news that I'm now openly gay hadn't spread yet.
VOICE: Excuse me?
I turned around to find myself in front of a guy--mid-twenties--holding a copy of John Adams by that guy who writes all those books about people everyone already knows everything about. I can't imagine reading one of those books. It's even better when people who read those books discuss them with each other.
PRETENTIOUS GUY: Hey, did you know that about Aaron Burr?
PRETENTIOUS GIRL: Yes! Did you?
PRETENTIOUS GUY: Yes! Isn't it incredible?
John Adams Guy has already started talking while I've been musing on my imaginary pretentious duo.
JAG: So, do you?
ME: Do we what?
JAG: Carry that?
ME: No.
JAG: No?
ME: No.
JAG: You don't carry Of Mice and Men? Isn't it really popular?
ME: Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you asked if we carried Atlas Shrugged.
JAG: That sounds nothing like Of Mice and Men.
ME: You're right.
JAG: You don't carry Atlas Shrugged?
ME: No, we do. I meant, we don't physically carry it. You have to pick it up yourself.
He laughed at this. What? I can be funny.
Then I saw it. He kind of nodded his head in a way.
He likes me.
I'm not being obnoxious here. Gay guys tend to like me right away. I think it's this sense of sincerity that I have. I am sincere, but I'm not sure why I project it so much more than normal people.
VOICE: Bart?
I turned to see Jeremy and his friend approaching.
BART: Hey Jeremy. Ritchie.
RITCHIE: Bart, so good to see you.
JEREMY: What are you doing shopping at an on-campus bookstore?
BART: Picking up stuff for the boy.
Oh, he has a boyfriend. Good. Maybe he'll leave me alone. Right now I only like one guy, and he's a major c.c. (closet case) so I'm not expecting much progress there. In the meantime, I don't plan on settling for someone who shops for a Founding Father on a Saturday night.
JEREMY: I didn't know you had a boy.
BART: Yeah, his name is Joey. He just moved in with me actually.
I could see Jeremy and Ritchie register surprise. It must mean something that this guy Bart is dating this guy Joey. God, gay guys are so complicated. Why couldn't I have just discovered that I was into something else--like learning French or Miles Davis?
JEREMY: Well, that's--
RITCHIE: Very interesting.
It was then that Jeremy's friend Ritchie turned his gaze to me.
RITCHIE: And are either of you going to introduce me to this handsome young man?
JEREMY: Stop talking like Ian McKellen, Ritchie. You're twenty-two.
BART: I haven't actually been introduced either.
ME: I'm Billy.
The three of them were all sizing me up. It was awkward. Jeremy clearly has a "He's so sweet and untainted" crush on me. Bart was developing a "I like a younger guys and he fits the bill" crush. Ritchie seemed like he merely wanted sex. Don't judge, but I'm most comfortable with the third crush. It's less complicated.
That doesn't mean it's going to happen.
VOICE: Billy!
I was beginning to think maybe I needed to get a less high-profile job. The bookstore seemed to be a gay little hotspot.
Except this time, I was happily surprised by who was there when I turned around--
ELI: Working on a Saturday night? Lameness.
ME: Yeah, totally.
Jeremy and Ritchie didn't seem too thrilled to see Eli. I think a lot of open gay guys feel resentment towards c.c.'s. For one thing, they're more attractive because they're a challenge. For another, here are guys who've taken the plunge, and they can't understand why everyone else can't do it. It's like people who quit smoking. They're miserable and they want everyone else to be, too.
ELI: Hey guys.
JEREMY: Hey Eli.
RITCHIE: Hello.
Bart seemed to be the only one looking pleased. He likes the challenging ones, I can tell.
BART: I'm meeting all kinds of new people tonight. I'm Bart.
ELI: Eli.
Eli made a big show of shaking Bart's hand like a real man. It was a little like watching a kitten put on a sweater. It just didn't look right.
ELI: So Billy, I heard from Tara that you were working tonight, and I was like, What? Um, no! He needs to get out of there. It's a Saturday. I thought maybe if I offered up movie passes and a ride...
BILLY: Well, I guess I could ask to leave early. We're really dead.
ELI: Amazingness. Let's go.
BILLY: See you, guys.
As I walked away, I realized that I was being a little irresponsible, but oh well. I looked behind me to see all three guys thinking the same thing.
I'm usually really good at knowing what people are thinking.
I just don't happen to care very much.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Dirty Laundry
Hi, my name is Ritchie.
JEREMY: Hey Ritchie.
I'm starving.
ME: You said eight.
JEREMY: When do I ever mean eight when I say eight?
That's my friend Jeremy. I agreed to pick him up at his apartment and take him to dinner with me on the condition that he was punctual.
But asking Jeremy to be punctual is like asking a ferret to be hygienic--it's not in his nature.
JEREMY: How was your first day of classes?
ME: Lame. I'm smarter than half my professors.
JEREMY: Well, that's nothing new.
ME: Did you see the new bumper crop of closet cases?
JEREMY: Yes, I even met two of the them when I was helping Ben move into his dorm.
ME: I didn't know you and Ben were such good friends.
JEREMY: We're friendly. I wouldn't say we're good friends. We get along.
ME: Don't go chasing waterfalls, Jeremy.
JEREMY: And just what does that mean?
Before I could tell him, the door to his apartment burst opened and Davis entered.
Davis intrigues me. It's not so much that I'm attracted to him per se, more like his aura. He has this powerful air about him that I can't help but want to explore. Unfortunately, he doesn't feel the same way about me.
ME: Hi John.
DAVIS: Fuck off, Ritchie. I'm in no mood.
Jeremy was just throwing his coat on but stopped when he saw how upset his roommate was. So much for eating by eight thirty.
JEREMY: What happened?
DAVIS: Those assholes at RI-TRI are trying to out me.
ME: Isn't that one of their favorite hobbies?
DAVIS: As President, Ritchie. Bart's trying to organize a coup.
ME: Based on what?
DAVIS: My moral character.
ME and JEREMY: Oh...
I guess that's the moment when you're supposed to say, "You have a fine moral character," but even Davis wouldn't expect that--he knows he's a manwhore.
ME: Does that mean the Wilde Blog--
DAVIS: If I ever find out who writes that thing, I'm going to slash their tires and smash their windshield.
With that, he went into his room slamming the door behind him.
ME: Quite the flair for the dramatic. Should we go?
JEREMY: Maybe I should wait and make sure he's okay.
ME: And then you can read him a bedtime story and tuck him in?
JEREMY: Ritchie--
ME: He's a big boy. He can take care of himself.
Seeming to prove my point for me, Davis came back out of his room with a basket of laundry.
JEREMY: Davis, I did your laundry when I did mine.
DAVIS: I got some of the stuff dirty again.
JEREMY: How?
DAVIS: Never mind. I'll be back later.
And out he went again.
JEREMY: He can be so manic sometimes.
But I suspected something else.
ME: Did you ever find out who he had over here the other night?
JEREMY: He said it was just some guy.
ME: Uh huh.
JEREMY: I was a little preoccupied anyway. I had just shared an elevator ride with the cutest guy.
ME: Really? In this building?
JEREMY: Yup. His name's Joey. He's short, gay, and adorable.
ME: Excellent. You should have hit the Emergency button.
JEREMY: He's also taken.
ME: Boo.
JEREMY: Tell me about it.
Then it hit me.
ME: Wait a minute, I know Joey.
JEREMY: You do?
ME: Yeah, I used to do Baker's Theater with him.
This godawful dinner theater where you'd perform Neil Simon in front of people eating ham and shouting to their wife "Wasn't Marsha Mason in this one?" "She in ALL OF 'EM!"
ME: He's wonderful. You should keep tabs on him. Relationships don't last forever.
JEREMY: It's okay. I've moved on--to the one.
ME: Oh really, and who would that be?
JEREMY: One of the new closet cases.
ME: Jeremy--
JEREMY: I have to shave and then we can go.
He likes to dodge my reprimands like that. A minute later he was shaving, and I was poking around in Davis' room. Oh c'mon, how many chances like this do you think I get? Most people would give an eyeball to poke around in the room of Providence's Gay King. I didn't find much though. Davis, surprisingly, keeps an impeccable abode.
Then I heard it.
The glorious sound of a vibrating phone. Davis had left his on his nightstand. I checked the caller ID.
"MOM"
Boring. I hit "Reject" and started looking through text messages. That was when I found it.
"Meet me downstairs in the laundry room" and Davis had labeled the contact--"Hottie."
I ran to the bathroom and called through the door.
ME: Jeremy?
JEREMY: Yeah?
ME: Do you think I should run down to the laundry room and invite Davis to come to dinner with us? It might make him feel better.
JEREMY: That's a great idea. The laundry room is in the basement. I'll meet you in the lobby.
ME: Excellent.
I took the elevator down to the basement and made my way to the laundry room. Before I even got to the door I could hear the sounds of a...
Well, a spin cycle.
With my own flair for the dramatic, I opened the door to find Davis and his "Hottie" laid out over three different washing machines.
But then a surprise.
ME: Joey?
DAVIS: Ritchie!
JOEY: Ritchie?
Davis quickly jumped up, pulled on his pants, and pushed me back into the hallway.
DAVIS: What the hell are you doing down here?
ME: I came to invite you out with me and Jeremy. But I can see that your laundry requires a lot of time and focus.
DAVIS: If you tell Jeremy--
ME: That you're boffing a boy in the building after you told Jeremy he has a boyfriend--
DAVIS: He does have a boyfriend.
ME: So Wilde was right?
DAVIS: Look, keep this to yourself, all right?
He said it like a threat, but he and I both knew he had nothing to threaten me with--whereas I...
ME: I'll keep it to myself for now, but in the near future, I'm going to want something, and you're going to give it to me.
DAVIS: And just what is that something?
ME: Wait and see.
I handed him his phone, and then I poked my head back into the laundry room.
ME: Nice seeing you, Joey.
Joey just waved sadly.
DAVIS: How do you know Joey?
ME: We were in Come Blow Your Horn together. Ironic in a way, isn't it?
And with that, I got into the elevator and started my climb to the top.
JEREMY: Hey Ritchie.
I'm starving.
ME: You said eight.
JEREMY: When do I ever mean eight when I say eight?
That's my friend Jeremy. I agreed to pick him up at his apartment and take him to dinner with me on the condition that he was punctual.
But asking Jeremy to be punctual is like asking a ferret to be hygienic--it's not in his nature.
JEREMY: How was your first day of classes?
ME: Lame. I'm smarter than half my professors.
JEREMY: Well, that's nothing new.
ME: Did you see the new bumper crop of closet cases?
JEREMY: Yes, I even met two of the them when I was helping Ben move into his dorm.
ME: I didn't know you and Ben were such good friends.
JEREMY: We're friendly. I wouldn't say we're good friends. We get along.
ME: Don't go chasing waterfalls, Jeremy.
JEREMY: And just what does that mean?
Before I could tell him, the door to his apartment burst opened and Davis entered.
Davis intrigues me. It's not so much that I'm attracted to him per se, more like his aura. He has this powerful air about him that I can't help but want to explore. Unfortunately, he doesn't feel the same way about me.
ME: Hi John.
DAVIS: Fuck off, Ritchie. I'm in no mood.
Jeremy was just throwing his coat on but stopped when he saw how upset his roommate was. So much for eating by eight thirty.
JEREMY: What happened?
DAVIS: Those assholes at RI-TRI are trying to out me.
ME: Isn't that one of their favorite hobbies?
DAVIS: As President, Ritchie. Bart's trying to organize a coup.
ME: Based on what?
DAVIS: My moral character.
ME and JEREMY: Oh...
I guess that's the moment when you're supposed to say, "You have a fine moral character," but even Davis wouldn't expect that--he knows he's a manwhore.
ME: Does that mean the Wilde Blog--
DAVIS: If I ever find out who writes that thing, I'm going to slash their tires and smash their windshield.
With that, he went into his room slamming the door behind him.
ME: Quite the flair for the dramatic. Should we go?
JEREMY: Maybe I should wait and make sure he's okay.
ME: And then you can read him a bedtime story and tuck him in?
JEREMY: Ritchie--
ME: He's a big boy. He can take care of himself.
Seeming to prove my point for me, Davis came back out of his room with a basket of laundry.
JEREMY: Davis, I did your laundry when I did mine.
DAVIS: I got some of the stuff dirty again.
JEREMY: How?
DAVIS: Never mind. I'll be back later.
And out he went again.
JEREMY: He can be so manic sometimes.
But I suspected something else.
ME: Did you ever find out who he had over here the other night?
JEREMY: He said it was just some guy.
ME: Uh huh.
JEREMY: I was a little preoccupied anyway. I had just shared an elevator ride with the cutest guy.
ME: Really? In this building?
JEREMY: Yup. His name's Joey. He's short, gay, and adorable.
ME: Excellent. You should have hit the Emergency button.
JEREMY: He's also taken.
ME: Boo.
JEREMY: Tell me about it.
Then it hit me.
ME: Wait a minute, I know Joey.
JEREMY: You do?
ME: Yeah, I used to do Baker's Theater with him.
This godawful dinner theater where you'd perform Neil Simon in front of people eating ham and shouting to their wife "Wasn't Marsha Mason in this one?" "She in ALL OF 'EM!"
ME: He's wonderful. You should keep tabs on him. Relationships don't last forever.
JEREMY: It's okay. I've moved on--to the one.
ME: Oh really, and who would that be?
JEREMY: One of the new closet cases.
ME: Jeremy--
JEREMY: I have to shave and then we can go.
He likes to dodge my reprimands like that. A minute later he was shaving, and I was poking around in Davis' room. Oh c'mon, how many chances like this do you think I get? Most people would give an eyeball to poke around in the room of Providence's Gay King. I didn't find much though. Davis, surprisingly, keeps an impeccable abode.
Then I heard it.
The glorious sound of a vibrating phone. Davis had left his on his nightstand. I checked the caller ID.
"MOM"
Boring. I hit "Reject" and started looking through text messages. That was when I found it.
"Meet me downstairs in the laundry room" and Davis had labeled the contact--"Hottie."
I ran to the bathroom and called through the door.
ME: Jeremy?
JEREMY: Yeah?
ME: Do you think I should run down to the laundry room and invite Davis to come to dinner with us? It might make him feel better.
JEREMY: That's a great idea. The laundry room is in the basement. I'll meet you in the lobby.
ME: Excellent.
I took the elevator down to the basement and made my way to the laundry room. Before I even got to the door I could hear the sounds of a...
Well, a spin cycle.
With my own flair for the dramatic, I opened the door to find Davis and his "Hottie" laid out over three different washing machines.
But then a surprise.
ME: Joey?
DAVIS: Ritchie!
JOEY: Ritchie?
Davis quickly jumped up, pulled on his pants, and pushed me back into the hallway.
DAVIS: What the hell are you doing down here?
ME: I came to invite you out with me and Jeremy. But I can see that your laundry requires a lot of time and focus.
DAVIS: If you tell Jeremy--
ME: That you're boffing a boy in the building after you told Jeremy he has a boyfriend--
DAVIS: He does have a boyfriend.
ME: So Wilde was right?
DAVIS: Look, keep this to yourself, all right?
He said it like a threat, but he and I both knew he had nothing to threaten me with--whereas I...
ME: I'll keep it to myself for now, but in the near future, I'm going to want something, and you're going to give it to me.
DAVIS: And just what is that something?
ME: Wait and see.
I handed him his phone, and then I poked my head back into the laundry room.
ME: Nice seeing you, Joey.
Joey just waved sadly.
DAVIS: How do you know Joey?
ME: We were in Come Blow Your Horn together. Ironic in a way, isn't it?
And with that, I got into the elevator and started my climb to the top.
Monday, December 24, 2007
The Fish Bowl
Hi, my name is Carter.
Today is my first day as a freshman at Ocean State College in Providence, Rhode Island.
I am a theater major with a concentration in musical theater.
Fun facts about me:
- I like to dance.
- I'm good at making friends.
- At my old high school, I coined the phrase "Someone needs to get Cartered!"
- I can drop it like it's hot, pick it up, and drop it again.
- I'm a player, but I play well and with an even hand.
Today I have two classes...I skipped one, but that's because I was getting a tour of the theater wing with my friend Billy.
The girl giving us the tour is named Claire, and she's a musical theater major as well. We didn't exactly ask for a tour. We were in the dining center eating lunch, when she sat down next to us and asked if we were freshmen. When we said that we were and that we were theater majors she got all excited and offered to show us around. I didn't have anything to do besides my first history class anyway (and boo, who likes history?) so I said 'Sure.'
She's a fine sexy mama as well. I should mention that.
CLAIRE: And this is the theater lounge.
The theater wing is pretty small. There's just a blackbox theater, some offices, dressing rooms, and the lounge. The lounge looks like a glass encased living room.
CLAIRE: This is where we all go to hang out, and just relax.
It looked like a fish bowl.
CLAIRE: We call it the fish bowl.
It's times like these I think I might have Espee.
Inside the lounge, two guys were sitting around. One of them was my new roommate Ben, and the other I hadn't met before. Ben is a super-chill guy, but we haven't talked much since I moved in the night before. I was too busy partying it up with some fine mamas a few floors above my room.
CLAIRE: Have you guys met Hank and Ben?
BEN: We've met. Carter's my roommate.
CLAIRE: That's fun!
I sat down on one of the couches. It looked like the couch I have at my house, except a little nicer. There were some dead plants in the lounge, and not much else besides that. It smelled a little like a Subway. Not the scary underground train, but the sandwich chain.
HANK: Nice to meet you guys.
ME: You have a deep voice.
HANK: Thanks. You don't.
ME: I kind of do.
HANK: No, you don't at all.
Hank didn't seem too friendly, but I have a way of winning people over even when at first they want to punch me a lot.
BILLY: Carter, show some poise.
ME: I can't. I'm wearing sneakers today.
BILLY: Don't mind him.
HANK: I wasn't planning on it.
CLAIRE: Oh boy...
We all turned to see some kid coming down the hall. He stopped to talk with a girl coming out of what looked like the dance studio and immediately jumped in the air and started flailing his arms.
BILLY: Who's that?
BEN: That would be Eli.
CLAIRE: Important thing to remember: Eli is straight.
As soon as she said this, Eli danced around in a circle and then threw his head back and laughed.
ME: Okay.
BILLY: He's straight?
HANK: No, but he thinks he is, so we humor him. You know, like a three-year-old with the Easter Bunny, except with sexuality and a closeted fairy boy.
BEN: Just play along it'll be easier that way.
As soon as Eli came into the room, he grabbed Claire and picked her up, spinning her around.
ELI: Claire! Love of my life!
I don't know why everyone said he was gay. He seemed normal to me. I act that way with my friends all the time.
CLAIRE: Eli, these are two new freshmen. Billy and Carter.
ELI: Nice to meet you. I'm Eli. Prince of Princes.
He laughed loudly after he said that. At first I thought it was a sneeze, but then nobody said 'Bless you.'
ELI: Benizzle, how's it hanging?
BEN: Don't call me that.
ELI: Your adoration for me has not hedged, clearly. Heh! Hank, what's up?
HANK: I'm trying to learn a monologue.
ELI: For?
HANK: Dr. Russo's audition next Tuesday.
BILLY: There's an audition already?
ELI: Welcome to the fast lane. Just call me Mustang!
And as quickly as he had burst in, he burst right out again yelling 'I'm Mustang!' A few people walked by him but didn't look too perplexed.
CLAIRE: Well, how about I show you guys the practice rooms?
BILLY: That would be cool. Nice meeting you, Hank. Bye Ben.
HANK: You, too.
BEN: See you, Billy.
ME: Bye Ben. Bye Hank.
BEN: Bye.
HANK: I already dislike you.
I'm sure he was kidding.
As Claire moved a little ahead of us, Billy lagged behind to talk to me.
BILLY: Carter, can you keep a secret?
ME: Sure.
BILLY: I think I kind of like that guy Eli.
ME: I like him too. He's mad chill.
BILLY: I mean, I like him, like him.
ME: You mean like a guy and a lady like each other?
BILLY: Yeah.
ME: So you're--?
BILLY: Gay, yeah.
ME: Oh...
I was kind of surprised. Billy didn't seem gay. Not that I really cared.
BILLY: What about you?
ME: No, I'm fine, thanks.
BILLY: Oh, okay.
I wasn't sure what he had meant, but by then we were at the practice rooms.
Billy can still be my friend even though he's gay. I'm not a hater.
Although if I were gay, I would probably like that guy Ben before I would like Eli.
But that's just me.
Today is my first day as a freshman at Ocean State College in Providence, Rhode Island.
I am a theater major with a concentration in musical theater.
Fun facts about me:
- I like to dance.
- I'm good at making friends.
- At my old high school, I coined the phrase "Someone needs to get Cartered!"
- I can drop it like it's hot, pick it up, and drop it again.
- I'm a player, but I play well and with an even hand.
Today I have two classes...I skipped one, but that's because I was getting a tour of the theater wing with my friend Billy.
The girl giving us the tour is named Claire, and she's a musical theater major as well. We didn't exactly ask for a tour. We were in the dining center eating lunch, when she sat down next to us and asked if we were freshmen. When we said that we were and that we were theater majors she got all excited and offered to show us around. I didn't have anything to do besides my first history class anyway (and boo, who likes history?) so I said 'Sure.'
She's a fine sexy mama as well. I should mention that.
CLAIRE: And this is the theater lounge.
The theater wing is pretty small. There's just a blackbox theater, some offices, dressing rooms, and the lounge. The lounge looks like a glass encased living room.
CLAIRE: This is where we all go to hang out, and just relax.
It looked like a fish bowl.
CLAIRE: We call it the fish bowl.
It's times like these I think I might have Espee.
Inside the lounge, two guys were sitting around. One of them was my new roommate Ben, and the other I hadn't met before. Ben is a super-chill guy, but we haven't talked much since I moved in the night before. I was too busy partying it up with some fine mamas a few floors above my room.
CLAIRE: Have you guys met Hank and Ben?
BEN: We've met. Carter's my roommate.
CLAIRE: That's fun!
I sat down on one of the couches. It looked like the couch I have at my house, except a little nicer. There were some dead plants in the lounge, and not much else besides that. It smelled a little like a Subway. Not the scary underground train, but the sandwich chain.
HANK: Nice to meet you guys.
ME: You have a deep voice.
HANK: Thanks. You don't.
ME: I kind of do.
HANK: No, you don't at all.
Hank didn't seem too friendly, but I have a way of winning people over even when at first they want to punch me a lot.
BILLY: Carter, show some poise.
ME: I can't. I'm wearing sneakers today.
BILLY: Don't mind him.
HANK: I wasn't planning on it.
CLAIRE: Oh boy...
We all turned to see some kid coming down the hall. He stopped to talk with a girl coming out of what looked like the dance studio and immediately jumped in the air and started flailing his arms.
BILLY: Who's that?
BEN: That would be Eli.
CLAIRE: Important thing to remember: Eli is straight.
As soon as she said this, Eli danced around in a circle and then threw his head back and laughed.
ME: Okay.
BILLY: He's straight?
HANK: No, but he thinks he is, so we humor him. You know, like a three-year-old with the Easter Bunny, except with sexuality and a closeted fairy boy.
BEN: Just play along it'll be easier that way.
As soon as Eli came into the room, he grabbed Claire and picked her up, spinning her around.
ELI: Claire! Love of my life!
I don't know why everyone said he was gay. He seemed normal to me. I act that way with my friends all the time.
CLAIRE: Eli, these are two new freshmen. Billy and Carter.
ELI: Nice to meet you. I'm Eli. Prince of Princes.
He laughed loudly after he said that. At first I thought it was a sneeze, but then nobody said 'Bless you.'
ELI: Benizzle, how's it hanging?
BEN: Don't call me that.
ELI: Your adoration for me has not hedged, clearly. Heh! Hank, what's up?
HANK: I'm trying to learn a monologue.
ELI: For?
HANK: Dr. Russo's audition next Tuesday.
BILLY: There's an audition already?
ELI: Welcome to the fast lane. Just call me Mustang!
And as quickly as he had burst in, he burst right out again yelling 'I'm Mustang!' A few people walked by him but didn't look too perplexed.
CLAIRE: Well, how about I show you guys the practice rooms?
BILLY: That would be cool. Nice meeting you, Hank. Bye Ben.
HANK: You, too.
BEN: See you, Billy.
ME: Bye Ben. Bye Hank.
BEN: Bye.
HANK: I already dislike you.
I'm sure he was kidding.
As Claire moved a little ahead of us, Billy lagged behind to talk to me.
BILLY: Carter, can you keep a secret?
ME: Sure.
BILLY: I think I kind of like that guy Eli.
ME: I like him too. He's mad chill.
BILLY: I mean, I like him, like him.
ME: You mean like a guy and a lady like each other?
BILLY: Yeah.
ME: So you're--?
BILLY: Gay, yeah.
ME: Oh...
I was kind of surprised. Billy didn't seem gay. Not that I really cared.
BILLY: What about you?
ME: No, I'm fine, thanks.
BILLY: Oh, okay.
I wasn't sure what he had meant, but by then we were at the practice rooms.
Billy can still be my friend even though he's gay. I'm not a hater.
Although if I were gay, I would probably like that guy Ben before I would like Eli.
But that's just me.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Moral Turpitude
Hi, my name is Bart.
I am a Columbia graduate with a bachelor's degree in Political Science. Currently I'm attending Brown University getting my master's in--
Well, it's a little complicated, but it's basically a P.R. degree.
I live here in Providence with my boyfriend, and I'm the Vice-Chair of RI-TRI (for Triangle), the committee that handles all GLBT activities in Rhode Island.
After this morning, I was fairly confident I was going to be able to acquire the Chair position on the committee.
Like most gay men in this state, I'm a religious reader of the Wilde Blog, although I hate to admit it. It provides vital information from time to time; like for instance, the news that the Chair of RI-TRI--John Davis--is a promiscuous sleazebag.
Don't get me wrong. This wasn't what you'd call a newsflash. Just about everyone knows the type of guy Davis is, but having it broadcast like this was going to give me the opening I needed to finally get him off the committee.
Over the years we've butted heads on every issue. As Chair, he has two votes on every decision, which has always helped him push his get his way--up until now.
Tonight's meeting of RI-TRI commenced at 7pm. There are about fifteen of us--an assorted mixture of people, just about all of them devoted members of the community who donate their time generously and (a lot of the time) thanklessly.
And then there's Davis, who took the Chair position under somewhat controversial circumstances as has held it ever since due to the high profile--a profile that was now going to derail him.
ME: I'd like to call this meeting of RI-TRI to order.
DAVIS: Bart, I believe that's my job.
Davis was at one end of a long conference table in the RI-TRI office downtown. I was at the other. The other men in the room were already tense. They knew what was coming.
I was about to be the Linda Evans to Davis' Joan Collins.
ME: Actually, in situations like this--
DAVIS: Like what?
ME: I'm calling for your removal, Davis.
Davis scoffed, but nobody else made a sound. I had warned them before the meeting--calling each of them personally--that this was going to happen, and they assured me I had their full support. The mystique of John Davis was finally going to run out.
DAVIS: Again, Bart? This is the fifth time.
ME: Fourth.
DAVIS: Like that makes it any less sad. You're not getting me out; you have no justification for even attempting it.
ME: I believe your moral turpitude puts the reputation of this committee in jeopardy, Davis.
DAVIS: The reputation of this committee? Are you kidding me? We're all a bunch of parade-organizing alcoholics who listen to club music on the way to work in the morning and dance shirtless at bars on Tuesday nights. Reputation has never been one of our strong suits.
I'll give him this; he knows how to make a point. Still, there was rumbling among the men at the table. If there's one thing gay men hate, it's being called out on their behavior.
ME: I would like to change that, and I believe the other members of the committee would like to as well. Unfortunately, we're not going to be able to with our Chair bringing home boys from clubs--
DAVIS: You're joking.
ME: I'm not--
DAVIS: This is about the Wilde Blog? You're going to depose me over a blog? Do you have any idea how--
ME: It speaks to your character. And although the Wilde Blog is a little sensational at times; it's usually fairly accurate, and well-known throughout the community. If it says you brought home someone else's boyfriend--
DAVIS: What I do in my personal time has no bearing--
ME: It has plenty of bearing.
DAVIS: I'm sorry, Bart, are you not getting fucked enough at home? Is that what this is about?
This caused the table to go into an uproar. People started shouting at Davis to be civil. I just sat back and smiled. He was digging himself into a hole he wouldn't be getting out of anytime soon.
When things had settled down once more, I made my motion.
ME: I call for the removal of John Davis.
The motion was seconded.
DAVIS: That goes to a vote.
ME: Fine. Let's vote.
DAVIS: I want a week.
ME: For what?
DAVIS: To plead my case to the members.
ME: You're not going to sway anybody, Davis. We don't need to give you a week.
DAVIS: I'm entitled.
I could have fought harder, but I figured, why bother? If he wanted a week to commit more acts of slutitude, let him go for it.
ME: Fine. We'll reconvene in one week, and then we'll vote.
We covered a few more topics, and then the meeting was adjourned. Davis stormed out of the room as soon as we were done. He had been staring at me the entire length of the meeting looking like he wanted to throw a spear through my heart. Hopefully I wouldn't be running into him in the lobby of our building.
In addition to being fierce adversaries, we're also neighbors. We both live in an apartment building on the east side.
As I was saying my good-byes to the committee members, my phone went off.
ME: Hey handsome.
JOEY: Hey.
ME: How was staying at your Mom's last night?
JOEY: It was fine. I wish I could have come home but--
ME: No, you needed to help out with your sister's party. I completely understand. But you'll be home tonight, right?
JOEY: Probably, but I'm definitely going to be in pretty late. I've got a ton of stuff to do after the store closes tonight.
ME: That's fine. I have tons of homework. I was going to do as much of it as I could and then pass out. But we'll catch up on bonding time this weekend.
JOEY: You bet.
This is the great thing about my boyfriend. He's incredibly understanding when it comes to my hectic schedule. One of the reasons we decided to move in together was so that we wouldn't have to stress out about spending time together. Now that we're living together we can just see each other when we're both home. It's going to be great.
ME: Hey, remind me to tell you about how I nailed Davis today.
JOEY: You what?
ME: It's kind of complicated, but we'll have a good laugh over it at dinner this weekend, okay?
JOEY: Sounds great.
ME: Okay. Oh! I like your new shirt by the way.
JOEY: What new shirt?
ME: The one you threw in the laundry today. It's cute. It must be a little big on you though.
JOEY: Oh...yeah. I'll probably bring it back.
ME: Don't. I'll wear it.
JOEY: Um...okay.
ME: All right, gotta go. I have to keep networking. You have no idea how hard it is screwing John Davis.
JOEY: Oh, I think I might.
ME: Gotta go. Love you, babe.
JOEY: Love you.
God, does life get any better than this?
I am a Columbia graduate with a bachelor's degree in Political Science. Currently I'm attending Brown University getting my master's in--
Well, it's a little complicated, but it's basically a P.R. degree.
I live here in Providence with my boyfriend, and I'm the Vice-Chair of RI-TRI (for Triangle), the committee that handles all GLBT activities in Rhode Island.
After this morning, I was fairly confident I was going to be able to acquire the Chair position on the committee.
Like most gay men in this state, I'm a religious reader of the Wilde Blog, although I hate to admit it. It provides vital information from time to time; like for instance, the news that the Chair of RI-TRI--John Davis--is a promiscuous sleazebag.
Don't get me wrong. This wasn't what you'd call a newsflash. Just about everyone knows the type of guy Davis is, but having it broadcast like this was going to give me the opening I needed to finally get him off the committee.
Over the years we've butted heads on every issue. As Chair, he has two votes on every decision, which has always helped him push his get his way--up until now.
Tonight's meeting of RI-TRI commenced at 7pm. There are about fifteen of us--an assorted mixture of people, just about all of them devoted members of the community who donate their time generously and (a lot of the time) thanklessly.
And then there's Davis, who took the Chair position under somewhat controversial circumstances as has held it ever since due to the high profile--a profile that was now going to derail him.
ME: I'd like to call this meeting of RI-TRI to order.
DAVIS: Bart, I believe that's my job.
Davis was at one end of a long conference table in the RI-TRI office downtown. I was at the other. The other men in the room were already tense. They knew what was coming.
I was about to be the Linda Evans to Davis' Joan Collins.
ME: Actually, in situations like this--
DAVIS: Like what?
ME: I'm calling for your removal, Davis.
Davis scoffed, but nobody else made a sound. I had warned them before the meeting--calling each of them personally--that this was going to happen, and they assured me I had their full support. The mystique of John Davis was finally going to run out.
DAVIS: Again, Bart? This is the fifth time.
ME: Fourth.
DAVIS: Like that makes it any less sad. You're not getting me out; you have no justification for even attempting it.
ME: I believe your moral turpitude puts the reputation of this committee in jeopardy, Davis.
DAVIS: The reputation of this committee? Are you kidding me? We're all a bunch of parade-organizing alcoholics who listen to club music on the way to work in the morning and dance shirtless at bars on Tuesday nights. Reputation has never been one of our strong suits.
I'll give him this; he knows how to make a point. Still, there was rumbling among the men at the table. If there's one thing gay men hate, it's being called out on their behavior.
ME: I would like to change that, and I believe the other members of the committee would like to as well. Unfortunately, we're not going to be able to with our Chair bringing home boys from clubs--
DAVIS: You're joking.
ME: I'm not--
DAVIS: This is about the Wilde Blog? You're going to depose me over a blog? Do you have any idea how--
ME: It speaks to your character. And although the Wilde Blog is a little sensational at times; it's usually fairly accurate, and well-known throughout the community. If it says you brought home someone else's boyfriend--
DAVIS: What I do in my personal time has no bearing--
ME: It has plenty of bearing.
DAVIS: I'm sorry, Bart, are you not getting fucked enough at home? Is that what this is about?
This caused the table to go into an uproar. People started shouting at Davis to be civil. I just sat back and smiled. He was digging himself into a hole he wouldn't be getting out of anytime soon.
When things had settled down once more, I made my motion.
ME: I call for the removal of John Davis.
The motion was seconded.
DAVIS: That goes to a vote.
ME: Fine. Let's vote.
DAVIS: I want a week.
ME: For what?
DAVIS: To plead my case to the members.
ME: You're not going to sway anybody, Davis. We don't need to give you a week.
DAVIS: I'm entitled.
I could have fought harder, but I figured, why bother? If he wanted a week to commit more acts of slutitude, let him go for it.
ME: Fine. We'll reconvene in one week, and then we'll vote.
We covered a few more topics, and then the meeting was adjourned. Davis stormed out of the room as soon as we were done. He had been staring at me the entire length of the meeting looking like he wanted to throw a spear through my heart. Hopefully I wouldn't be running into him in the lobby of our building.
In addition to being fierce adversaries, we're also neighbors. We both live in an apartment building on the east side.
As I was saying my good-byes to the committee members, my phone went off.
ME: Hey handsome.
JOEY: Hey.
ME: How was staying at your Mom's last night?
JOEY: It was fine. I wish I could have come home but--
ME: No, you needed to help out with your sister's party. I completely understand. But you'll be home tonight, right?
JOEY: Probably, but I'm definitely going to be in pretty late. I've got a ton of stuff to do after the store closes tonight.
ME: That's fine. I have tons of homework. I was going to do as much of it as I could and then pass out. But we'll catch up on bonding time this weekend.
JOEY: You bet.
This is the great thing about my boyfriend. He's incredibly understanding when it comes to my hectic schedule. One of the reasons we decided to move in together was so that we wouldn't have to stress out about spending time together. Now that we're living together we can just see each other when we're both home. It's going to be great.
ME: Hey, remind me to tell you about how I nailed Davis today.
JOEY: You what?
ME: It's kind of complicated, but we'll have a good laugh over it at dinner this weekend, okay?
JOEY: Sounds great.
ME: Okay. Oh! I like your new shirt by the way.
JOEY: What new shirt?
ME: The one you threw in the laundry today. It's cute. It must be a little big on you though.
JOEY: Oh...yeah. I'll probably bring it back.
ME: Don't. I'll wear it.
JOEY: Um...okay.
ME: All right, gotta go. I have to keep networking. You have no idea how hard it is screwing John Davis.
JOEY: Oh, I think I might.
ME: Gotta go. Love you, babe.
JOEY: Love you.
God, does life get any better than this?
Friday, December 21, 2007
Moving In
Hi, my name is Ben.
I like boys.
This is not something I'm proud of, or even okay with, but at the moment I'm not sure what I can do about it.
Up until this summer I only had a few minor sexual experiences with other guys. That was until I met Taylor, but even that was pretty casual compared to what happened with Victor.
I fell...
I fell hard.
Victor and I did some bad community theater together. He and I were the boys all the girls wanted to do, so of course, we ended up doing each other. Before he left to go back to Fordham, we decided to be exclusive. This promise was followed up by my promise to do everything it took to transfer to Fordham A.S.A.P.
Suddenly I went from being a cool, collected 18-year-old male with girls dying to go out with him (and not succeeding, of course) to a lovestruck idiot filling out F.U. applications and trying to figure out if Victor and I could afford an apartment together off-campus.
Life was great.
Then I went to visit...
It's amazing what three weeks can do to a gay relationship, especially one between two college sophomores. Victor seemed to be already over me, and the truth was:
I wasn't too devastated.
But I was a little worried. I'd always been so in control of my emotions, and now suddenly I was bouncing from one feeling to the next.
I needed someone to confide in, and well, there was really only one option.
JEREMY: So where do you hide all your Bette Midler posters?
ME: Fuck off, Queenie.
Jeremy is the premiere gay at my school. Oh sure, there are others, but they're all in the closet themselves or they're so gay it's impossible to be around them without wanting to smack them. Jeremy isn't exactly Mr. Macho, but he was the best I could do. That's why after my mistake last night he was the first person I called.
Oh right, I forgot to mention--
I slept with Taylor last night.
Things had just gone so awful in New York that as soon as I came back, I wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. The only problem is I haven't technically broken up with Victor yet.
Luckily for me, Jeremy was there to offer advice. He was helping me move back into my dorm at Ocean State College. Initially I hadn't planned on living there long, but if the status of my new relationship was any indication, I might be staying in Rhode Island longer than I want to imagine.
JEREMY: And what would be so bad about that?
We had just finished getting everything I owned into a double suite in Trent Hall. I hadn't met my new roommate yet, but I already had a feeling I was going to miss having a single like I had last year.
ME: I'm just in a really bad place in my life right now. A change would have been nice.
JEREMY: That doesn't make any sense. The change is happening to you right now. You're not in a bad place. You're in a transition phase.
Jeremy has a knack for explaining to you why everything you're feeling is both understandable and irrational. It's both comforting and annoying.
ME: You're saying don't tell Victor what happened?
JEREMY: Not unless you're planning on breaking up with him.
ME: I think that might already be in the cards.
JEREMY: That's not really surprising. First boyfriends don't tend to hang around very long--especially not long distance ones.
ME: It sucks though. I was actually enjoying dating someone.
JEREMY: Believe me, Ben, I know the feeling.
Once my new computer was set up, Jeremy asked if he could check his facebook. I glanced over his shoulder and briefly glimpsed a photo of an incredibly hot guy.
ME: Don't tell me you're using my computer to look at porn.
JEREMY: Nooo...This is actually someone I could, believe it or not, potentially be going out on a date with in the near future.
ME: Really?
JEREMY: Don't sound so shocked.
ME: How did you meet him?
JEREMY: He goes here. He's in the English department. We met in Gay Lit.
ME: That is the...Well, I was going to say that's the gayest story, but I'm assuming you were surrounded by gay stories at the time anyway.
JEREMY: We actually started talking on Children's Hour day. It was either that or discuss Audrey Hepburn as a lesbian, which I have a religious aversion to.
ME: So now you're going to mack it with him?
JEREMY: That's what I'm hoping for, Ben.
Just then the door opened and two freshman came barreling into the room. One was a skinny little black kid with one of those barely there mustaches and the other was a fairly attractive equally skinny white kid, a tad on the pale side.
KID WITH MUSTACHE: Hi, is either one of you my new roommate?
I raised my hand only to see Jeremy raising his, too.
ME: What are you doing?
JEREMY: Oh, sorry.
Jeremy looked a little dazed.
KID WITH MUSTACHE: I'm Carter.
OTHER KID: I'm Billy.
ME: I'm Ben, and this is Jeremy.
Jeremy went to speak, but for some reason, nothing came out. It was pretty clear that he was a little enamored with Billy. What is with it with him? He develops crushes on eight guys a day.
CARTER: I'm going to go help Billy move the rest of the stuff into his room, but after that I can come back and we can chill or something.
ME: Terrific. I love chilling.
CARTER: Yayyy.
He put a long "e" sound somewhere in that "yay," don't ask me how.
Before the two of them left, Billy stopped and asked if Jeremy and I were both theater majors.
JEREMY: Yeah.
Finally, he speaks.
BILLY: Cool. I have a lot of questions about the department. Maybe you guys could help me out with them?
JEREMY: OH MY GOD, THAT WOULD BE GREAT!
It sounded as loud and obnoxious as it looked. I was borderline embarrassed for him. Billy just smirked a little, said--
BILLY: Great.
--And left with Carter.
ME: Wow, you could give lessons in toolishness.
JEREMY: He's the one.
ME: What?
JEREMY: The one. The one I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life. You know how people tell you that you'll know when you see it?
ME: Yeah.
JEREMY: Well, I just saw it, and I know.
ME: Don't be stupid.
JEREMY: I'm being totally serious!
Before I could say anymore Carter popped back into the room.
CARTER: I just wanted to drop my wallet off here. You guys won't steal my money, will you? Just kidding! I'm poor as hell.
He laughed...at his own joke...which wasn't even really a joke.
This was going to be an exciting year.
JEREMY: Carter, um, I was thinking of going to a bar later downtown. Would you and Billy want to join me?
CARTER: What bar?
JEREMY: Um, Prism.
CARTER: Isn't that a gay club?
Carter showed surprising disdain. I could see where this was going, and from the disheartened look on Jeremy's face, I think he could, too.
JEREMY: Yeah, is that a--
CARTER: Billy and I are both straight. Thanks though.
And with that, he was gone.
JEREMY: Perfect. Two more students have now entered Ocean State Closet.
ME: Don't lose hope. You've still got Gay Lit boy.
JEREMY: Yeah, I guess there is that. I'd better get home. Davis will want to rehash his meeting at RI-TRI with me.
ME: Okay. Thanks for all your help.
JEREMY: Your welcome.
I probably should have said something more poignant like "Thanks for all your help--with everything," but I'm not much for the sentimental.
After Jeremy had left, I sat down at my computer and realized he had left his facebook account up with the profile of Gay Lit boy.
I thought about it for a second...
It really wasn't fair that Jeremy could lay claim to all these guys just because he was the only out gay guy at the school. I mean, he should pick one and stick with it. Oh right, most of them wouldn't date him so he has to play the odds a little more.
Well, I should get to play to.
I hit "Add Friend," and before I knew it I had a message in my Inbox.
MESSAGE: Hey Ben, how's it going? Thanks for the add.
I replied back with something, and before I knew it, we had exchanged numbers...
...And a date.
Hey, what can I say? It's been a rough week.
I like boys.
This is not something I'm proud of, or even okay with, but at the moment I'm not sure what I can do about it.
Up until this summer I only had a few minor sexual experiences with other guys. That was until I met Taylor, but even that was pretty casual compared to what happened with Victor.
I fell...
I fell hard.
Victor and I did some bad community theater together. He and I were the boys all the girls wanted to do, so of course, we ended up doing each other. Before he left to go back to Fordham, we decided to be exclusive. This promise was followed up by my promise to do everything it took to transfer to Fordham A.S.A.P.
Suddenly I went from being a cool, collected 18-year-old male with girls dying to go out with him (and not succeeding, of course) to a lovestruck idiot filling out F.U. applications and trying to figure out if Victor and I could afford an apartment together off-campus.
Life was great.
Then I went to visit...
It's amazing what three weeks can do to a gay relationship, especially one between two college sophomores. Victor seemed to be already over me, and the truth was:
I wasn't too devastated.
But I was a little worried. I'd always been so in control of my emotions, and now suddenly I was bouncing from one feeling to the next.
I needed someone to confide in, and well, there was really only one option.
JEREMY: So where do you hide all your Bette Midler posters?
ME: Fuck off, Queenie.
Jeremy is the premiere gay at my school. Oh sure, there are others, but they're all in the closet themselves or they're so gay it's impossible to be around them without wanting to smack them. Jeremy isn't exactly Mr. Macho, but he was the best I could do. That's why after my mistake last night he was the first person I called.
Oh right, I forgot to mention--
I slept with Taylor last night.
Things had just gone so awful in New York that as soon as I came back, I wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. The only problem is I haven't technically broken up with Victor yet.
Luckily for me, Jeremy was there to offer advice. He was helping me move back into my dorm at Ocean State College. Initially I hadn't planned on living there long, but if the status of my new relationship was any indication, I might be staying in Rhode Island longer than I want to imagine.
JEREMY: And what would be so bad about that?
We had just finished getting everything I owned into a double suite in Trent Hall. I hadn't met my new roommate yet, but I already had a feeling I was going to miss having a single like I had last year.
ME: I'm just in a really bad place in my life right now. A change would have been nice.
JEREMY: That doesn't make any sense. The change is happening to you right now. You're not in a bad place. You're in a transition phase.
Jeremy has a knack for explaining to you why everything you're feeling is both understandable and irrational. It's both comforting and annoying.
ME: You're saying don't tell Victor what happened?
JEREMY: Not unless you're planning on breaking up with him.
ME: I think that might already be in the cards.
JEREMY: That's not really surprising. First boyfriends don't tend to hang around very long--especially not long distance ones.
ME: It sucks though. I was actually enjoying dating someone.
JEREMY: Believe me, Ben, I know the feeling.
Once my new computer was set up, Jeremy asked if he could check his facebook. I glanced over his shoulder and briefly glimpsed a photo of an incredibly hot guy.
ME: Don't tell me you're using my computer to look at porn.
JEREMY: Nooo...This is actually someone I could, believe it or not, potentially be going out on a date with in the near future.
ME: Really?
JEREMY: Don't sound so shocked.
ME: How did you meet him?
JEREMY: He goes here. He's in the English department. We met in Gay Lit.
ME: That is the...Well, I was going to say that's the gayest story, but I'm assuming you were surrounded by gay stories at the time anyway.
JEREMY: We actually started talking on Children's Hour day. It was either that or discuss Audrey Hepburn as a lesbian, which I have a religious aversion to.
ME: So now you're going to mack it with him?
JEREMY: That's what I'm hoping for, Ben.
Just then the door opened and two freshman came barreling into the room. One was a skinny little black kid with one of those barely there mustaches and the other was a fairly attractive equally skinny white kid, a tad on the pale side.
KID WITH MUSTACHE: Hi, is either one of you my new roommate?
I raised my hand only to see Jeremy raising his, too.
ME: What are you doing?
JEREMY: Oh, sorry.
Jeremy looked a little dazed.
KID WITH MUSTACHE: I'm Carter.
OTHER KID: I'm Billy.
ME: I'm Ben, and this is Jeremy.
Jeremy went to speak, but for some reason, nothing came out. It was pretty clear that he was a little enamored with Billy. What is with it with him? He develops crushes on eight guys a day.
CARTER: I'm going to go help Billy move the rest of the stuff into his room, but after that I can come back and we can chill or something.
ME: Terrific. I love chilling.
CARTER: Yayyy.
He put a long "e" sound somewhere in that "yay," don't ask me how.
Before the two of them left, Billy stopped and asked if Jeremy and I were both theater majors.
JEREMY: Yeah.
Finally, he speaks.
BILLY: Cool. I have a lot of questions about the department. Maybe you guys could help me out with them?
JEREMY: OH MY GOD, THAT WOULD BE GREAT!
It sounded as loud and obnoxious as it looked. I was borderline embarrassed for him. Billy just smirked a little, said--
BILLY: Great.
--And left with Carter.
ME: Wow, you could give lessons in toolishness.
JEREMY: He's the one.
ME: What?
JEREMY: The one. The one I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life. You know how people tell you that you'll know when you see it?
ME: Yeah.
JEREMY: Well, I just saw it, and I know.
ME: Don't be stupid.
JEREMY: I'm being totally serious!
Before I could say anymore Carter popped back into the room.
CARTER: I just wanted to drop my wallet off here. You guys won't steal my money, will you? Just kidding! I'm poor as hell.
He laughed...at his own joke...which wasn't even really a joke.
This was going to be an exciting year.
JEREMY: Carter, um, I was thinking of going to a bar later downtown. Would you and Billy want to join me?
CARTER: What bar?
JEREMY: Um, Prism.
CARTER: Isn't that a gay club?
Carter showed surprising disdain. I could see where this was going, and from the disheartened look on Jeremy's face, I think he could, too.
JEREMY: Yeah, is that a--
CARTER: Billy and I are both straight. Thanks though.
And with that, he was gone.
JEREMY: Perfect. Two more students have now entered Ocean State Closet.
ME: Don't lose hope. You've still got Gay Lit boy.
JEREMY: Yeah, I guess there is that. I'd better get home. Davis will want to rehash his meeting at RI-TRI with me.
ME: Okay. Thanks for all your help.
JEREMY: Your welcome.
I probably should have said something more poignant like "Thanks for all your help--with everything," but I'm not much for the sentimental.
After Jeremy had left, I sat down at my computer and realized he had left his facebook account up with the profile of Gay Lit boy.
I thought about it for a second...
It really wasn't fair that Jeremy could lay claim to all these guys just because he was the only out gay guy at the school. I mean, he should pick one and stick with it. Oh right, most of them wouldn't date him so he has to play the odds a little more.
Well, I should get to play to.
I hit "Add Friend," and before I knew it I had a message in my Inbox.
MESSAGE: Hey Ben, how's it going? Thanks for the add.
I replied back with something, and before I knew it, we had exchanged numbers...
...And a date.
Hey, what can I say? It's been a rough week.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Davis the Homewrecker
Hi, my name is Davis.
I'll spare you the banal details of my fascinating life--I realize that's a contradiction. I'm just chock full of contradictions.
This morning I woke up to find that I was a homewrecker.
Imagine that.
I shared this observation with the boy sleeping in my bed. He was the boyfriend of another boy, and in case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a homosexual.
These are important details.
After showering, I enjoyed my favorite morning breakfast: Strawberry yogurt with the chocolate crunchy things (I believe that's their technical name) and Frosted Flakes. My goal is usually to be running on a severe sugar high by 9am.
My roommate and only admitted friend, Jeremy, woke up, mocked me for my appearance in that online sleazefest Wilde's Blog--and subsequently took off for school. That was when my tryst trotted out of the bedroom.
JOEY: Is it safe?
ME: Yes, I doubt anything will be falling on your head out here.
JOEY: You know what I mean.
ME: My roommate's gone. We could fuck on the kitchen table if you like.
JOEY: My boyfriend--
ME: Ouch--Careful with that word. I told my roommate you were just some trick I brought home last night and sent packing after a bad oral experience.
JOEY: Last night was a mistake.
ME: Actually it was three mistakes. All of them fun and gymnastic.
JOEY: I have to go.
Hmm, I thought--not so fast. Better give him something to remember me by...
Before he could walk past me, I pushed him up against the sink and ripped his shirt off. He didn't immediately tell me to stop so I started kissing him and before I knew it we were pushing my Frosted Flakes onto to the floor and commandeering the kitchen table.
Damn, I thought, I'm going to make a mess.
Before I knew it, we were finished and he was out the door with a promise to call me later, not that I really cared. I had bigger things on my mind--namely a full rebellion in the form of the RI-TRI committee that I'd be meeting with later.
Something was telling me a coup was about to occur.
Then the door opened and Jeremy came bursting back into the apartment.
ME: Forget something?
JEREMY: My murse.
ME: Ah yes, proof that you are in fact gay--despite what the beige shirt you're wearing may imply.
Just then, Jeremy stopped and looked me over. Damn, I thought, Jeremy can always read me. He knows what just--
JEREMY: This is going to sound crazy, but, did you have sex in between me going downstairs and coming back up again?
ME: You're right. That does sound crazy.
JEREMY: You've got that after-sex look you get. You know, the one tigers at the zoo get after they feed them sheep.
ME: I was just thinking about what I'm going to do to that committee later.
JEREMY: That's the fighting spirit.
Jeremy was all smiley--for a split second I wondered if he'd gotten any in the elevator. I keep lobbying for them to put a condom dispenser in there.
ME: What are you so happy about?
JEREMY: I ran into the love of my life in the elevator.
ME: Ryan Gosling was in our elevator?
JEREMY: Close. I took a class with this guy last year, developed an instant crush on him, he dropped the class, and now I've run into him again--in our elevator!
Uh oh.
ME: Joey, right?
JEREMY: Yeah, how did you know?
This is one of those instances where it would be helpful if I could lie to Jeremy, but I just can't. If I can't tell him the truth, who can I tell? Granted, I do lie about some things.
Some might say 'a lot' of things.
Still, I try not to...when I can help it.
ME: Well...
But then again, nobody said omission was the same thing as lying.
ME: I ran into him last night and I found out he lives in the building with his boyfriend.
Jeremy's mood sunk faster than Gretchen Mol's career.
JEREMY: Are you serious?
ME: Sorry, kiddo.
JEREMY: Great. All the good ones are either taken or sleeping with you.
Or both.
JEREMY: I guess I'll just have to keep searching for Prince Charming.
He grabbed his murse off the sofa and headed out once again.
I neglected to tell him that if there really is a Prince Charming, I've probably already gotten his number and thrown it away already.
Such is life.
I'll spare you the banal details of my fascinating life--I realize that's a contradiction. I'm just chock full of contradictions.
This morning I woke up to find that I was a homewrecker.
Imagine that.
I shared this observation with the boy sleeping in my bed. He was the boyfriend of another boy, and in case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a homosexual.
These are important details.
After showering, I enjoyed my favorite morning breakfast: Strawberry yogurt with the chocolate crunchy things (I believe that's their technical name) and Frosted Flakes. My goal is usually to be running on a severe sugar high by 9am.
My roommate and only admitted friend, Jeremy, woke up, mocked me for my appearance in that online sleazefest Wilde's Blog--and subsequently took off for school. That was when my tryst trotted out of the bedroom.
JOEY: Is it safe?
ME: Yes, I doubt anything will be falling on your head out here.
JOEY: You know what I mean.
ME: My roommate's gone. We could fuck on the kitchen table if you like.
JOEY: My boyfriend--
ME: Ouch--Careful with that word. I told my roommate you were just some trick I brought home last night and sent packing after a bad oral experience.
JOEY: Last night was a mistake.
ME: Actually it was three mistakes. All of them fun and gymnastic.
JOEY: I have to go.
Hmm, I thought--not so fast. Better give him something to remember me by...
Before he could walk past me, I pushed him up against the sink and ripped his shirt off. He didn't immediately tell me to stop so I started kissing him and before I knew it we were pushing my Frosted Flakes onto to the floor and commandeering the kitchen table.
Damn, I thought, I'm going to make a mess.
Before I knew it, we were finished and he was out the door with a promise to call me later, not that I really cared. I had bigger things on my mind--namely a full rebellion in the form of the RI-TRI committee that I'd be meeting with later.
Something was telling me a coup was about to occur.
Then the door opened and Jeremy came bursting back into the apartment.
ME: Forget something?
JEREMY: My murse.
ME: Ah yes, proof that you are in fact gay--despite what the beige shirt you're wearing may imply.
Just then, Jeremy stopped and looked me over. Damn, I thought, Jeremy can always read me. He knows what just--
JEREMY: This is going to sound crazy, but, did you have sex in between me going downstairs and coming back up again?
ME: You're right. That does sound crazy.
JEREMY: You've got that after-sex look you get. You know, the one tigers at the zoo get after they feed them sheep.
ME: I was just thinking about what I'm going to do to that committee later.
JEREMY: That's the fighting spirit.
Jeremy was all smiley--for a split second I wondered if he'd gotten any in the elevator. I keep lobbying for them to put a condom dispenser in there.
ME: What are you so happy about?
JEREMY: I ran into the love of my life in the elevator.
ME: Ryan Gosling was in our elevator?
JEREMY: Close. I took a class with this guy last year, developed an instant crush on him, he dropped the class, and now I've run into him again--in our elevator!
Uh oh.
ME: Joey, right?
JEREMY: Yeah, how did you know?
This is one of those instances where it would be helpful if I could lie to Jeremy, but I just can't. If I can't tell him the truth, who can I tell? Granted, I do lie about some things.
Some might say 'a lot' of things.
Still, I try not to...when I can help it.
ME: Well...
But then again, nobody said omission was the same thing as lying.
ME: I ran into him last night and I found out he lives in the building with his boyfriend.
Jeremy's mood sunk faster than Gretchen Mol's career.
JEREMY: Are you serious?
ME: Sorry, kiddo.
JEREMY: Great. All the good ones are either taken or sleeping with you.
Or both.
JEREMY: I guess I'll just have to keep searching for Prince Charming.
He grabbed his murse off the sofa and headed out once again.
I neglected to tell him that if there really is a Prince Charming, I've probably already gotten his number and thrown it away already.
Such is life.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Jeremy in the Morning
Hi, my name is Jeremy.
I live in Providence, Rhode Island in a two-bedroom apartment on the east side of the city with my roommate, Davis.
Many of you may already know Davis.
And by know, I mean, slept with.
Newsday recently reported that four out of five gay men are likely to sleep with Davis before reaching the age of 25. I mention that so when I occasionally refer to what a manwhore my best buddy is, you'll know I'm merely going by statistics.
Still don't believe me? Then take today, for example.
I woke up at around 8am. As is normally the case, I was running about five minutes late. But still, I had to check the Wilde blog to see what the dirt of the day was.
The Wilde blog is sort of like Perez Hilton for gays in Rhode Island. It keeps us up-to-date on who's doing who and what they're doing. Don't ask me how this guy knows all the gossip--nobody knows who he is, just that he goes by the name:
WILDE: Oh, do I have some juice for all of you today! Don't get too excited~but it is of a sexual nature--then again, what isn't? Apparently John Davis was seen leaving the club last night with a boyfriend--not his own, of course. Is the Bad Boy of Providence homewrecking again? Details to follow.
I just love when my roommate makes the morning news.
Davis was in the kitchen already eating his Frosted Flakes when I got out of the shower. He didn't seem any different than he normally does, even though I know he must have read the Wilde blog this morning just like I did.
ME: Morning slut.
DAVIS: Morning prude.
ME: So whose boyfriend did you bring home last night?
DAVIS: None of your business.
ME: I could always google your name and find out that way.
DAVIS: Wilde doesn't know what he's talking about. The boy I brought home last night was nobody's boyfriend, and he left after giving me the worst blowjob I've ever had.
ME: That's funny. Usually Wilde is more accurate than that.
DAVIS: Well, we can't all be me and perfect, now can we?
I grabbed two pop tarts and headed for the door.
ME: Good luck with your meeting tonight.
DAVIS: You mean the attempted assassination?
ME: Don't be so dramatic.
Davis is the Head of RI-TRI, the association that runs all gay-related activities in Rhode Island. Not a month goes by without some ambitious little twink trying to overthrow him, but somehow Davis always seems to hold his position--something he gets lots of practice at, believe me.
ME: What's on the agenda?
DAVIS: They're fighting me on Pride.
ME: Again?
DAVIS: They always fight me on it, and I always win, and then they sulk, and the violins play on.
ME: Go easy on the poor little queers.
DAVIS: I could just walk in there and quote Mommie Dearest.
ME: Don't fuck with me, fellas!
DAVIS: This ain't my first time at the rodeo!
I gave him a hug of support. He may be the most controversial gay icon since Evita, but he's still my best friend.
The elevator doors hadn't even shut yet before I'd gotten a text message from my friend, Ben.
BEN: Call me--ASAP--I'm an idiot. A big one.
Ben has been going through a lot lately. At school, he's still known as a ladies' man. The guy all the girls are interested in dating. Privately, he's a gay guy whose first ever boyfriend just moved to New York City for school. So far, I'm the only person at school--school being Ocean State College--who knows the truth about Ben's sexuality. I was shocked he told me, but also rather touched. I'm not known for being good at keeping secrets, but in this case I plan on being iron clad.
ME: Good morning, Ben.
BEN: Um, I did something stupid.
ME: Stupid like 'got a tattoo that says "I <3 Muscle Men"' stupid or stupid like--
BEN: I slept with Taylor last night.
ME: Oh, that kind of stupid.
Taylor was the first guy Ben had ever done stuff with, but he'd called it quits after he met Victor, the boy currently going to school in New York.
Try to keep all these gays straight if you can, folks.
ME: How did you ever wind up at Taylor's?
BEN: I needed to borrow sheet music from him.
ME: Okay.
BEN: Because I have that audition next week.
Ben is trying to get into the same school as Victor so that their blooming love can continue to...um...bloom.
BEN: And Taylor offered to play out my part for me. That was at eight.
ME: Uh huh.
BEN: I just left there five minutes ago.
ME: So instead of just playing your audition, he played the whole Ring Cycle for you?
BEN: Victor is going to kill me.
ME: Tell me about it. Not five minutes out of the closet and you're already a cheater.
BEN: Don't call me that!
ME: This is why I told you committing to someone when you're still dealing with your sexuality was a bad idea.
BEN: I am not going to be one of those trashy gay guys who sleeps around and has one-night stands all the time!
ME: So what did you tell Taylor?
BEN: That this was just a one-night stand.
ME: Excellent.
At this point, I was in my car, but I suddenly remembered I had left my murse (man-purse) back in the apartment.
ME: Terrific.
BEN: What?
ME: I forgot something in the apartment and I'm already running late.
BEN: Excuse me, we're talking about me here!
ME: We'll talk about you more when I help you move into the dorms today.
BEN: Fine. And don't judge me.
ME: Too late.
The elevator opened on my floor and before I could step out, I was struck by the image of a blast from the past.
ME: Oh...uh...good morning.
JOEY: Morning.
His name is Joey.
We were in the same class together last year before he mysteriously disappeared from school altogether. This left me heartbroken as I was incredibly excited that an actual gay man was in school with me. Davis graduated from college two years ago, and Ben isn't out yet, so the number of actual date-able gays at my school is the single digit--me.
Joey got into the elevator and pressed the down button. I remembered that I was supposed to be getting something from my apartment, but I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to get a few extra seconds in with my lost boy.
I wanted to talk to him so badly. He's the most adorable guy you've ever seen, and up until that point, I don't even think I'd heard his voice. So, I told myself, start a conversation.
Nothing.
Speak! I told myself, speak!
Finally--
JOEY: Are you going down?
ME: Yes!
JOEY: Huh?
ME: I am, actually--going vertically, um, lower.
JOEY: Okay.
ME: Do you...uh...live in the building?
JOEY: Yeah. Just moved in last night.
ME: Me, too. Well, not last night. I've lived here for a few months. I live on the floor you got on at.
JOEY: Oh...so...why didn't you get off?
Damn!
ME: I thought I needed something, but...I didn't...really.
JOEY: Got it. I'm Joey.
ME: I'm Jeremy.
We shook hands. I felt like a fool. Gays weren't meant to shake hands. We're meant to make out on dance floors. That's how we introduce ourselves.
The elevator door opened, and Joey got off. But before he walked away he turned and laughed a little to himself in a cute sort of 'You're a dork but I like you' way. I waited until the elevator door shut before I fainted into a googly-eyed mess onto the floor.
I think I'm in love.
I live in Providence, Rhode Island in a two-bedroom apartment on the east side of the city with my roommate, Davis.
Many of you may already know Davis.
And by know, I mean, slept with.
Newsday recently reported that four out of five gay men are likely to sleep with Davis before reaching the age of 25. I mention that so when I occasionally refer to what a manwhore my best buddy is, you'll know I'm merely going by statistics.
Still don't believe me? Then take today, for example.
I woke up at around 8am. As is normally the case, I was running about five minutes late. But still, I had to check the Wilde blog to see what the dirt of the day was.
The Wilde blog is sort of like Perez Hilton for gays in Rhode Island. It keeps us up-to-date on who's doing who and what they're doing. Don't ask me how this guy knows all the gossip--nobody knows who he is, just that he goes by the name:
WILDE: Oh, do I have some juice for all of you today! Don't get too excited~but it is of a sexual nature--then again, what isn't? Apparently John Davis was seen leaving the club last night with a boyfriend--not his own, of course. Is the Bad Boy of Providence homewrecking again? Details to follow.
I just love when my roommate makes the morning news.
Davis was in the kitchen already eating his Frosted Flakes when I got out of the shower. He didn't seem any different than he normally does, even though I know he must have read the Wilde blog this morning just like I did.
ME: Morning slut.
DAVIS: Morning prude.
ME: So whose boyfriend did you bring home last night?
DAVIS: None of your business.
ME: I could always google your name and find out that way.
DAVIS: Wilde doesn't know what he's talking about. The boy I brought home last night was nobody's boyfriend, and he left after giving me the worst blowjob I've ever had.
ME: That's funny. Usually Wilde is more accurate than that.
DAVIS: Well, we can't all be me and perfect, now can we?
I grabbed two pop tarts and headed for the door.
ME: Good luck with your meeting tonight.
DAVIS: You mean the attempted assassination?
ME: Don't be so dramatic.
Davis is the Head of RI-TRI, the association that runs all gay-related activities in Rhode Island. Not a month goes by without some ambitious little twink trying to overthrow him, but somehow Davis always seems to hold his position--something he gets lots of practice at, believe me.
ME: What's on the agenda?
DAVIS: They're fighting me on Pride.
ME: Again?
DAVIS: They always fight me on it, and I always win, and then they sulk, and the violins play on.
ME: Go easy on the poor little queers.
DAVIS: I could just walk in there and quote Mommie Dearest.
ME: Don't fuck with me, fellas!
DAVIS: This ain't my first time at the rodeo!
I gave him a hug of support. He may be the most controversial gay icon since Evita, but he's still my best friend.
The elevator doors hadn't even shut yet before I'd gotten a text message from my friend, Ben.
BEN: Call me--ASAP--I'm an idiot. A big one.
Ben has been going through a lot lately. At school, he's still known as a ladies' man. The guy all the girls are interested in dating. Privately, he's a gay guy whose first ever boyfriend just moved to New York City for school. So far, I'm the only person at school--school being Ocean State College--who knows the truth about Ben's sexuality. I was shocked he told me, but also rather touched. I'm not known for being good at keeping secrets, but in this case I plan on being iron clad.
ME: Good morning, Ben.
BEN: Um, I did something stupid.
ME: Stupid like 'got a tattoo that says "I <3 Muscle Men"' stupid or stupid like--
BEN: I slept with Taylor last night.
ME: Oh, that kind of stupid.
Taylor was the first guy Ben had ever done stuff with, but he'd called it quits after he met Victor, the boy currently going to school in New York.
Try to keep all these gays straight if you can, folks.
ME: How did you ever wind up at Taylor's?
BEN: I needed to borrow sheet music from him.
ME: Okay.
BEN: Because I have that audition next week.
Ben is trying to get into the same school as Victor so that their blooming love can continue to...um...bloom.
BEN: And Taylor offered to play out my part for me. That was at eight.
ME: Uh huh.
BEN: I just left there five minutes ago.
ME: So instead of just playing your audition, he played the whole Ring Cycle for you?
BEN: Victor is going to kill me.
ME: Tell me about it. Not five minutes out of the closet and you're already a cheater.
BEN: Don't call me that!
ME: This is why I told you committing to someone when you're still dealing with your sexuality was a bad idea.
BEN: I am not going to be one of those trashy gay guys who sleeps around and has one-night stands all the time!
ME: So what did you tell Taylor?
BEN: That this was just a one-night stand.
ME: Excellent.
At this point, I was in my car, but I suddenly remembered I had left my murse (man-purse) back in the apartment.
ME: Terrific.
BEN: What?
ME: I forgot something in the apartment and I'm already running late.
BEN: Excuse me, we're talking about me here!
ME: We'll talk about you more when I help you move into the dorms today.
BEN: Fine. And don't judge me.
ME: Too late.
The elevator opened on my floor and before I could step out, I was struck by the image of a blast from the past.
ME: Oh...uh...good morning.
JOEY: Morning.
His name is Joey.
We were in the same class together last year before he mysteriously disappeared from school altogether. This left me heartbroken as I was incredibly excited that an actual gay man was in school with me. Davis graduated from college two years ago, and Ben isn't out yet, so the number of actual date-able gays at my school is the single digit--me.
Joey got into the elevator and pressed the down button. I remembered that I was supposed to be getting something from my apartment, but I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to get a few extra seconds in with my lost boy.
I wanted to talk to him so badly. He's the most adorable guy you've ever seen, and up until that point, I don't even think I'd heard his voice. So, I told myself, start a conversation.
Nothing.
Speak! I told myself, speak!
Finally--
JOEY: Are you going down?
ME: Yes!
JOEY: Huh?
ME: I am, actually--going vertically, um, lower.
JOEY: Okay.
ME: Do you...uh...live in the building?
JOEY: Yeah. Just moved in last night.
ME: Me, too. Well, not last night. I've lived here for a few months. I live on the floor you got on at.
JOEY: Oh...so...why didn't you get off?
Damn!
ME: I thought I needed something, but...I didn't...really.
JOEY: Got it. I'm Joey.
ME: I'm Jeremy.
We shook hands. I felt like a fool. Gays weren't meant to shake hands. We're meant to make out on dance floors. That's how we introduce ourselves.
The elevator door opened, and Joey got off. But before he walked away he turned and laughed a little to himself in a cute sort of 'You're a dork but I like you' way. I waited until the elevator door shut before I fainted into a googly-eyed mess onto the floor.
I think I'm in love.
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