Date #17: The Dinner Party

A dinner party is something I’ve always associated with being a sophisticated adult.

For me, it’s right up there with wine-tasting and sleeping with the pool boy.

So when Charlie suggested that our second date involve one of his traditional Tuesday night dinner parties, I was way gung-ho about it.

Then it occurred to me that I might need some back-up in case Charlie’s friends were less than friendly. Fortunately, one of Charlie’s friends was single, gay, and supposedly cute. He suggested I invite Brian as a kind of set-up, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to indulge in an elegant adult activity and do a good deed!

BRIAN: I’m not going.

Brian was a little wary of any kind of dating since things with both Army Guy and 4-Way Ricky hadn't led to positive results. To make matters worse, Brian’s roommate Scooter and his new flavor of the week were trying to conquer the age-old art of tantric sex.

BRIAN: If I hear them scream ‘Hold it in, hold it in’ one more time while playing Sting’s ‘Desert Rose’ I’m going to scream ‘Let it out, and go to sleep!’

With a little convincing—and the promise of a free lunch at the Nordstrom Café—Brian got on board.

So I had an allie, a cute guy, and apple pie (well, I was going to buy it from the store anyway).

Everything was going to go perfectly.

Until things turned into an episode of Frasier.

To start the night off with a bang, I got held up late at work, which left me no time to turn myself from a grubby librarian into a super-hot, charming studmuffin. I ran home, threw on a shirt, stuck some gel in my hair, and drove to Charlie’s house.

When he opened the door in his adorable “Bringing Home the Bacon” apron, I could see my decor almost made him drop the spatula in his right hand. My outfit was quasi-decent and my hair was just plain Quasimodo.

ME: Just laugh, Charlie. I’ve brought it on myself.

He didn’t. Instead he gave me a kiss on the cheek, told me to run upstairs to take a shower and that he would fix my hair when he got done with the lasagna. He also told me I could borrow some of his clothes.

Is this guy a keeper or what?

I was still in the shower when the doorbell rang. I ran downstairs in a towel hoping Charlie had decided to have Domino’s as the entrée rather than have his friends show up while I was still a soaking wet mess.

CHARLIE: Sorry Two of the guys always show up early.
ME: But an hour early? That’s insane.
CHARLIE: They’re a couple. It’s what they do.
ME: Well, then they asked for what they're about to get.

I could see Charlie didn’t know what I meant until I went to the door and opened it still in nothing but my towel.

Oh Christ.

TOMMY: Kevin?

(See Date #2: Doing Time.)

KEVIN: Tommy, wow, what…uh…

I wanted to say--Shouldn't your ankle bracelet be going off right now?

TOMMY: Oh my God, you’re the Kevin that Charlie’s dating?

That ‘dating’ sounded semi-exclusive. I’d have to bring that up to Charlie when I was wearing clothing and not standing in front of someone who was supposed to be under house arrest.
Then I saw who he was standing next to…

ALEX: Oh my God, I not seen you in forever!

Alex was pre-blog. Really pre-blog.

I went on one date with him when I first got to college and couldn’t rationalize going on any more, although truth be told, I probably would have during my slutty sophomore phase. Alex had arrived in the United States about a year before I met him and his dance card filled up the minute he hit the shore.

That’s right, he’s a Foreign Gay.

One of those guys who hears you can date a man in America and not get stoned to death—it’s a major selling point for international homo tourism.

His English is pretty good, but let’s face it, how can you really have a relationship with someone who can’t even speak your language?

For the answer to that, ask the five guys who Alex has been in serious relationships with since he’s been in this country.

Apparently Tommy was number six.

So why would guys date Alex you ask? Another six answers, and they all end in “pack.”

Alex happens to have one of the most amazing bodies you could ever expect someone to have who isn’t featured in an Abercrombie advertisement.

Basically, he’s too hot to be American. To be fair, he’s also a pretty nice guy—in the way the immigrants at Ellis Island were so nice and happy to be off the boat.

He gave me a big hug—apparently not realizing that the towel was not stapled to my waist—and for a second it almost seemed like this 3-way reunion was going to include Special K and things were going to become even more awkward.

It was at this moment that Charlie appeared.

Tommy played it strategically vague and told Charlie that he and I were pre-acquainted. Alex echoed the sentiments. Charlie looked a little surprised, but after all, this is Rhode Island. He invited them to go in the living room while I went upstairs to change. I made him come with so I could fill him in.

Once we were in his bedroom with the door shut, I asked the major question on my mind.

ME: How long have Alex and Tommy been going out?
CHARLIE: About a year.
ME: Oh terrific.
CHARLIE: What?
ME: I went out on a date with Tommy like a month ago.
CHARLIE: Doesn’t surprise me. He’s a whore.
ME: He was supposed to be under house arrest!
CHARLIE: That just got lifted last week.
ME: But how was he a whore while being under house arrest?
CHARLIE: Well, if you can’t bring Mohammad to the manwhore—
ME: Something tells me this is going to be a weird night.
CHARLIE: So you didn’t bring me in here for a quickie? You in that towel…
ME: Very funny, Chef. Go take care of the bacon.

Just as I finished dressing, the doorbell rang again. This time I let Charlie get it.

Luckily for me, it was Brian. I quickly updated him on the situation.

BRIAN: So you’re saying you’re the other woman?

With friends like these…

We went downstairs where Charlie was about to serve the salad. His friend for Brian had called to say he’d be running a little late. Brian and I both checked right then and there to make sure Charlie’s friend wasn’t some crazy ex of Brian’s or a bad date of mine. It turns out he’s from Atlanta and just moved to Rhode Island three months ago. So at least that disaster seemed to be averted.

All of us started eating. I said a silent prayer to myself that the meal could be one of those nice silent ones like at a monastery.

No such luck.

Alex, as I had forgotten, is actually quite chatty. He started talking about he and Tommy’s yearly summer trip to P-Town.

Does any gay couple not do a yearly summer trip to P-Town?

ALEX: We see so many gay guy. Nice ass on all. Crazy, crazy.

I’ll have to remember to move Alex up on my “Biggest Regrets” list.

It was then that I started to become angry. If there’s one thing I dislike it’s guys who try to have it all. Here was Tommy in a great relationship with a cute guy—Granted, one who probably can’t tell you how many stripes are on the flag, but still—and on the side he’s playing around with whomever he wants.

It’s not so much that he’s cheating; that’s his business, not mine. It’s more that he’s probably seeing guys that I could be seeing were they not seeing him.

AKA

You’re off the market, so stop selling your stock.

If someone wants to be in a relationship, terrific. I think relationships are wonderful, but in the words of my mother when I decided to try extra-hot spicy peppers—

“You brought this death sentence upon yourself, now you’re going to have to live with it.”

So naturally, this was when my desire for a monastic dinner turned into my desire for a fantastic sparring match. In other words--

The bitch was coming out to play.

ME: You know, Tommy, it is so great to see two guys really committed to each other.

Tommy’s eyebrows went up faster than a Starbucks on a corner.

ME: I mean, I think two guys really being only into one another and sharing a complete trust is just so admirable.

Brian and Charlie were both giving me subtle head shakes as if to say "Put down the gun, Kevin. Nobody has to get hurt here."

ALEX: So nice, thank you, Kevin. So nice.

Don't worry, I have no intention of breaking Alex's heart by letting him know his boyfriend has been playing Jailhouse Rock for God knows how long. I just liked seeing Tommy sweat.

TOMMY: Kevin, if you're trying to make me feel uncomfortable about going on a date with you while being in a relationship with Alex, it's a waste of time.

From across the table, I saw Brian nearly choke on his Romaine lettuce.

TOMMY: Alex and I explore options when they come along, but other than that, we're incredibly devoted to each other.
ME: Do you think you might have shared that 'devotion' with me while we were making out?

Oh, did I mention in that entry that we made out? Well yeah, we did. I made out with a guy under house arrest who was apparently in a relationship with a guy who sounds like he's on El Sabado Gigante. Go ahead, book me on Maury.

Brian tried to diffuse the situation.

BRIAN: Wow, this salad dressing is good.

I tried to escalate the situation.

ME: Oh yeah, adulterously good.

Charlie called a time-out.

CHARLIE: Kevin, want to come to the kitchen with me for a second?

We convened. Charlie explained to me that while he understood why I was ticked off, Tommy had been a friend of his for awhile, and although he may be slutty, it's nobody's place to judge--even mine, though again, he understood me being angry given that perhaps one night Alex was at his house watching a telenovela happy as a clam while me and his boyfriend were sucking face across town and I didn't have a clue. Charlie concluded by mentioning that he spent all day cleaning the apartment and making dinner so if now was the time to act like nice little WASPS and not talk about the thing we all wanted to argue about otherwise what the fuck was the point of making lasagna.

With this, the doorbell rang. I offered to get it, but not without giving Charlie a look that clearly read "You spoil my fun when you don't let me argue with the floozy."

I was still fuming when I answered the door.

"Hi, you must be Kevin. I'm Charlie's friend Peter."

...Said the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.

No word of a lie. HOT HOT HOT. Not to mention he had a light Southern accent that ran down my spine like the mouse at hickory dick--

"Wow."

I turned around to see Brian standing a few feet behind me taking in the spectacle that was Peter. Good to know when faced with a gorgeous guy he's subtle enough to emit a "Wow."

PETER: And you must be Brian.

He smiled and beautiful children were born all over the world. Hummingbirds sang. I think the doorknob melted. Brian and I showed him into the dining room while mouthing behind his back--

ME: Oh my God!
BRIAN: I know!
ME: Don't screw this up!
BRIAN: I don't plan on it!

Of course he could have thought I said "Don't start the cup" and he could have responded with "I do potted oxen." But that doesn't seem likely.

In the dining room, Charlie was serving up the WASP lasagna while Tommy and Alex greeted Peter. Brian and I took our seats, and the dinner started up again.

Brian was clearly in heaven. His losing streak seemed to be ending. I, on the otherhand, had been told to keep quiet--something I abhor--by a guy I really liked. Part of me was having trouble biting my lip as the conversation turned jovial.

Peter apologized for showing up late. He said he had gotten out of his party late.

BRIAN: Someone threw a party for you?
PETER: No, I was working a party.
BRIAN: This early in the night?
PETER: It was a bachelorette party.
BRIAN: Oh, so do you cater?

I noticed all the other guys at the table begin to snicker.

This can't be good.

TOMMY: Tell him what you do, Petie.

With a knowing smile, Peter responded--

PETER: I'm an exotic dancer.

Oh, but of course.

Brian's face fell faster than Snakes on a Plane hype. He didn't even bother trying to act like he didn't care. He just nodded as if to say--"Well, what did I expect?"

Tommy and Alex full out laughed. Brian looked humiliated. I got homocidal.

The next time Charlie went into the kitchen I took the opportunity to express my discomfort at the way things were proceeding.

ME: YOU SET MY FRIEND UP WITH A F**KING STRIPPER?

Charlie continued to put the a la mode on the pie slices for dessert.

CHARLIE: It's not like he's a prostitute.
ME: No, of course not, prostitutes don't come with boomboxes.
CHARLIE: So my friends are a little unusual.
ME: Unusual? You've got two swingers and a stripper in there. Tell me something. When do the juggler and the contortionist show up?
CHARLIE: Don't worry. They'll be here in time for charades!

With that he went back into the dining room.

Dinner carried on as if I wasn't sitting with the cast of Jerry Springer: The Opera.

After dessert we were all sitting around the living room talking.

Well...Charlie, Tommy, Alex, and Peter were talking. Brian and I were sulking.

Peter seemed to be picking up on our sour vibes.

PETER: Brian, can we talk about your feelings towards me being a dancer?
BRIAN: I'd really rather not.
ME: I second that.
PETER: I think if you saw what I actually do you wouldn't think so little of it.
BRIAN: Hey, I'm not judging.
ME: I am.
TOMMY: Well of course, that's your thing.
ME: My thing?

Okay, now it was time to throw down. And it wasn't that I was really judging Peter, I was just in a really bad mood. This was not the crisp adult function I had hoped for.

TOMMY: You judge people. Put labels on them.
ME: What would make you--
TOMMY: Anyway, enough of that. Let's change the subject.
ME: WHAT?

I HATE when an argument is oncoming and people change the subject. It's not like it's going to make the argument go away, it's just going to turn into stress, and then you get an anuerysm and die...

...okay maybe not, but still--agruing is fun!

TOMMY: You know, Charlie, I found this really cool blog the other day.

Uh oh.

CHARLIE: Oh, I never read blogs.
TOMMY: This one was neat. It was all about dating.

That son-of-a-bitch, how did he find that?

TOMMY: A friend sent it to me. Said the guy who writes it sounds like someone I would date.

Well apparently, that's a wide open field.

CHARLIE: Write it down for me, I'll check it out.

So that's where he got the 'label' comment from. I don't label. I just occasionally attach nicknames to people...

...oh come on, Carrie Bradshaw does it! And everybody loves Carrie!

TOMMY: I don't really remember the name of it. It wasn't that funny anyway.

He then shot me a look as if to say "I win, Judge Judy. Now let it go."

So I did.

PETER: You know what, I'm not one of those guys who's ashamed of what I do. I have fun at my job and I make great money.
BRIAN: It's fine, really.
PETER: I think I have an idea of what'll help you come around. Charlie, put some music on.

You have got to be kidding me.

ALEX: Oh yay, naked boy Peter. Ha ha...

Brian leaned over to me and whispered--

BRIAN: Why does this happen every time we hang out?
ME: Because we're homosexuals and God hates us.

The music started. Peter took off his shirt.

ME: ...or maybe He doesn't.

The little striptease was actually quite good-natured, and Peter was wearing regular boxers so it's not like we saw the Hully Gully. Although what we did see wasn't half bad. It seemed to put Brian in better spirits anyway.

I wound up in the kitchen with Charlie doing dishes and such.

CHARLIE: You're mad at me.
ME: No.
CHARLIE: Yes, you are.
ME: Well, yes I am, but I've decided to keep quiet about it like a good little boy.
CHARLIE: I'm sorry, okay? I'm just not used to dating someone as outspoken as you.
ME: Your friends seem pretty outspoken.
CHARLIE: Yes, they are. I'll give you that.
ME: I'm just surprised you're okay with--
CHARLIE: Kevin, it's not who I am, it's who they are.
ME: But they're your friends.
CHARLIE: Are you exactly like your friends?

........well........

Not all of my friends at least.

ME: Do you think a person's friends reflect who they are?
FRIEND: God, I hope not. If I'm like you I'm not going to get laid nearly enough.
ME: Thanks for that.
FRIEND: Kevin, who the hell knows why we're friends with who we're friends with--that shouldn't stop you from seeing Charlie.
ME: He didn't want me to say what I wanted to say.
FRIEND: Personally I think you need someone in your life preventing you from putting your foot in your mouth.
ME: Says the most outspoken person I know.
FRIEND: Look, you wanted to get in a fight with some jerk in an open relationship and make everyone uncomfortable for...for what exactly?
ME: ...To make myself feel better.
FRIEND: Wow, how selfless of you after Charlie put together an entire dinner party in the hopes that maybe you would like his friends and vice versa.
ME: Oh my God. Did you just make a point?
FRIEND: No, I couldn't have--Ewwww!

I called Charlie and apologized for what a brat I was. Then he apologized for not letting me be the bigmouth that I clearly am. Somehow I think this is going to lead to a compromise...it'll least lead to a third date.

In the meantime Peter and Brian are going on their first date sometime this week. I told him he had to give me every detail--which I will in turn pass on to all of you.

Well, come on, that's what friends are for.