Take It Off

Hi, my name is Ritchie.

JEREMY: Guess who got in?

This is impossible.

After bribing a doorman, and wearing my best Ritchie smile, I managed to get into Sam Tyler's office to see him, get him inside the most exclusive club in New York thereby blocking Jeremy and Ben, and convince him to let me produce his play in Rhode Island, only to see the two of them appear looking truly proud of themselves.

ME: How did you get in here?
BEN: We pretended to be British and talked really loudly on our cell phones about the hot new club across town called 'Sweater' that nobody can get into.
SAM: There is no club called 'Sweater.'
BEN: We know.
JEREMY: The line outside disappeared almost immediately.

Son-of-a--

SAM: Great. The more the merrier.

Yeah, why not? After all, they got here too late.

ME: Sam just agreed to let me produce the Rhode Island premiere of his play.

Ben looked crestfallen, but Jeremy wasn't going down without a fight.

JEREMY: But Sam, that's what we came here to talk to you about. Plus, Ritchie doesn't even have a company to produce it under.
BEN: We have a space, and a mission statement--
ME: Which is what? We do theater in church basements?
SAM: Okay guys, relax.

Jeremy looked like he was ready to jump across the table and pummel me.

SAM: Look, when you become a big, important playwright, you always dream about a bunch of cute gay guys willing to do anything to get to produce your play.
JEREMY: Really? That's the dream? Not a Tony?
BEN: A Pulitzer?
ME: Cute gays trying to get in your pants sounds about right to me.
SAM: The point is, there's no fair way to decide who gets the rights. Besides, Rhode Island is so small it's not like it matters which of you premieres it. So here's what we're going to do.

He pointed to the stage next to the bar.

SAM: We're going to have ourselves a little contest.

Uh oh.

Half an hour later, Jeremy and I were onstage waiting for the music to start.

ME: I can't believe we agreed to do this.
JEREMY: Scared you're going to lose?
ME: You should be scared. I've been known to push, and it's a sizable drop to the floor.
JEREMY: Try it and you're going down with me.
ME: Is that what you say to your boyfriends before they take the plunge?

That was when Christina came on.

ME: Here we go.

I have to say, though I may be a better dancer than Jeremy, what he lacks in rhythm, he makes up for in style.

The guy must have done vaudeville in a past life.

When we were done, both of us were in our underwear, and the crowd was going nuts.

I leaned in and hugged Jeremy before I could stop myself.

ME: So is this the balance you've found between old Jeremy and new Jeremy?
JEREMY: You mean old Jeremy and Ron Jeremy?

When we got back down to the floor, Sam was applauding us.

SAM: You both did a nice job, but I decided to give the rights to Ben and Jeremy.
JEREMY: YES!
ME: Was my dancing that bad?
SAM: No, it's just that Ben made out with me while you guys were up there.
BEN: And I got to keep my clothes on.

I was mad, but the night didn't end up being a total failure. I got my friend back--

JEREMY: So you coming to paint the town with us, Ritchie, or are you going to sit here and nurse your wounds?

--And I got TONS of phone numbers.