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.