JEREMY: Who's up for a night in?
Aw, I needed a Jeremy slumber party.
Now that we've officially turned the city of Providence upside down by allowing all the gays to post to the Wilde Blog, why not relax a little?
Jeremy came over my house already armed with wine (for me), a cheese platter (for him), and the latest season of Weeds--for both of us.
Once we were three episodes in and all of the wine and most of the cheese was consumed, we started talking.
JEREMY: Hank, would you say that you have...you know...secrets?
ME: Secrets?
JEREMY: Yeah, from me.
ME: Jeremy, you know everything about me.
JEREMY: There must be something you haven't told me.
ME: Well...
JEREMY: Thought so!
He took the platter off his lap and set it aside.
ME: But what about you?
JEREMY: Ohhh nooo, don't change the subject.
ME: But if there's something you're not telling me--
JEREMY: Oh, I see what you mean. Okay.
He took a deep breath.
JEREMY: Hank...I...I...this is hard.
ME: Jeremy, I'm here.
JEREMY: I'm...adopted.
ME: Really?
JEREMY: Yes. And I found it out when my mother needed a blood transfusion.
ME: Jesus.
JEREMY: Now, what about you?
I swallowed my reservations, and told Jeremy my darkest secret.
JEREMY: Oh my God.
ME: Please just keep that between us.
JEREMY: Sorry, but I can't do that.
ME: Why not?
JEREMY: Because I'm not Jeremy.
ME: Wait, you--
JEREMY: I'm Jackson.
Oh no.
JACKSON: Way to knock back that wine, Stritch. I'm surprised you being an alcoholic wasn't your secret.
ME: You can't be.
JACKSON: But I am. And now we're going to talk business.
This was going to be bad.
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