Date #35: Point Taken

I've always been a fan of the motto--

"If you're going to screw up, screw up big."

...or something like that.

Since the last dinner party, everyone had been mad at me with the exception of Turner, so that was who I called right before Connor showed up so that we could "talk."

ME: I have a bad feeling this is going to turn into boom boom.
TURNER: So maybe you should tell him not to come over.
ME: I can't do that.
TURNER: Why?
ME: Because I really want him to.
TURNER: You realize you're threatening both your celibacy, your friendship with Brian, and any hope of making things right with Charlie.
ME: I'm a gay man. Making bad decisions is practically a genetic behavioral pattern.
TURNER: I don't believe that, and you know you don't either.
ME: First off, I shouldn't have to make things right with Charlie. We're not serious.
TURNER: He adores you.
ME: Well, I'm sorry, but who asked him to adore me?
TURNER: Wow, prick much?
ME: I know, I know, I know. But how am I supposed to move on with my life if I don't get closure with Connor?
TURNER: Little hint, Kevin. You never get closure with guys like Connor. That's how they're able to retain power over you forever--it's because they never really cut ties with you. They keep you on a leash.
ME: I know, but it's such a hot leash.
TURNER: Kevin--
ME: And as far as Brian goes, I had Connor first, so if stuff happens with him, it'll just be me evening the score a little bit.
TURNER: I'll leave that bit of stupidity alone for a second, and ask about the celibacy.
ME: The celibacy is what's making me act like a prick right now. I need physical attention, Turner. Kissing, screwing, deep tissue massage--I don't care. But I need something.
TURNER: And this is the best way to go about getting it?
ME: No, it's the worst way. But whereas my mind knows that, my body won't until after it's allievated from the burden I've put it under for the past few weeks.

With that, we said our good-byes and I went to get my hair.

A half hour later the doorbell rang. I ran downstairs and practically screamed "Take me!"--

--right into the face of Brian.

BRIAN: Hi.
ME: Hi.
BRIAN: Connor's not coming.
ME: Uh...he's not?
BRIAN: No, he's not.
ME: Well...all right.
BRIAN: He told me that he was planning on it, and from the massive amounts of gel you've piled onto your head I can tell you were planning on a little bit more than that.
ME: Brian--
BRIAN: I just want to say that I'm not sure we can keep being friends--
ME: Don't--
BRIAN: --Unless you can promise me you won't ever try to do anything with Connor again.
ME: He contacted me.
BRIAN: I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that he and I may break up in as little as a couple of days, or we might not. Either way, I'd appreciate you not doing anything with him.
ME: Like you didn't after he and I stopped seeing each other?
BRIAN: I'm not saying I'm being fair. I'm just telling it like it is. Am I a hypocrite? Yes, I am. But I'm also a human being with irrational emotions that, as my friend, you should at least attempt to accomodate when you can. You have Charlie, you have Paye, you have Republican guy--you just don't have Connor anymore. All I'm asking is that you don't sleep with him ever. If you did, I would never speak to you again. You could bitch and complain and come up with a number of reasons why I'd be an asshole for doing that, but I'd do it anyway. I can pretty much guarentee I'll never give you another ultimatum like this, but if you can't stay away from one guy in return for keeping this friendship alive, then I don't think I can be friends with you.
ME: That's insane.
BRIAN: Let's put it this way, if I asked you never to eat at a particular restaurant--not a chain of restaurants, not a type of restaurant, but a very specific restaurant--just one--would you say, 'That's not fair. I want to eat there. Why can't I eat there?' or would you just think 'You know what? Eating at one restaurant when there are a million restaurants in the world isn't worth losing a friend.'
ME: But what if I really like the restaurant?
BRIAN: Spoken like a guy who'll be eating alone.

And he walked away. I took a minute, and then shut the door.

I was livid.

I don't know why, but I was.

It wasn't that his demand was stupid. The restaurant analogy was kind of melodramatic and dumb, but it also made a certain degree of sense. No friend was worth some guy who clearly wasn't anything more than a glorified f**k-buddy.

On the other hand, I wasn't entirely sure I liked having Brian show up at my doorstep like he was Sydney from Melrose Place and I was Daphne Zuniga. What kind of friends could we be after this?

Then an idea hit me.

I called up Brian and told him I agreed to the deal. I would refrain from ever having physical contact with Connor in exchage for our friendship. Then I told Brian that I had a date planned for the following night and wondered if we could maybe make it a double date as a show of good faith.

Brian thought it might be awkward for all concerned, but I promised I would diffuse any tension with my friendly, comedic ways.

He said okay.

Then I made a phone call.

(This might be where you start to dislike me a little, be warned.)

Connor and Brian met me at the Trinity Brewhouse. I wanted a place with lots of noise in case there was...well...shouting.

You see, when Connor and Brian got there they met me and my date at the table--my date being Peter.

I thought Brian was going to either vomit or punch me in the face...or both.

He and Connor sat down, and I instantly started talking. I figured the only way to avoid there being an all-out brawl right then and there was to distract everyone with mindless conversation. It's moments like these when I turn into a bad stand-up comic. I did three minutes on the complexities of The Facts of Life (The Early Years) before Brian stopped me with a simple--

BRIAN: How did this happen?

It actually wasn't all that difficult.

When I phoned Peter, I explained to him my problem, and he agreed that Brian didn't seem to realize that it's one thing to live in a glass house, but it's another to live in a glass house next to rock quarry. (Me being the Head Quarry, um, Guy.)

He agreed to the double date, and even though a part of me felt bad for dragging Brian's ex- into this, another part of me thought:

Don't f**k with Daphne Zuniga.

After a very brief amount of time, Brian asked to see me in the bathroom. Unfortunately, we didn't even make it that far. As soon as we were behind a large potted plant he turned on me like a crazy circus elephant.

BRIAN: ARE YOU INSANE?
ME: You have to ask?
BRIAN: Is this one of those proving a point things?
ME: Clearly.
BRIAN: Okay, point taken. Now call this off.
ME: No.
BRIAN: Why not?
ME: Because I don't think you understand why what you asked was unfair.
BRIAN: I acknowledged that it was unfair!
ME: Yet you still asked!
BRIAN: AND YOU SAID FINE!
ME: STOP!

I just realized what I was doing:

Arguing with one of my best friends behind a potted plant while our two ex's sat at a table eating rolls and wondering why we were taking so long to either kill each other or pee.

And that was that.

ME: I don't want to do this.

I saw Brian's shoulders slump--the way they do after someone agrees with you that there can be no agreement.

BRIAN: Me either.
ME: We're supposed to be semi-adults. There's nothing adult about this.
BRIAN: Look, Connor and I are pretty much on the rocks anyway--
ME: It doesn't matter. I need to just let things be none of my business and convince myself to keep it that way.
BRIAN: You want to know the truth, Kevin? The truth is I spend an hour a day picking out my clothes, fixing my hair, and wondering if my face looks asymmetrical.
ME: Huh?
BRIAN: Just go with me on this. You walk out of the house with a giant plaid shirt on, dark brown cargo pants, sneakers that look lke you've been pig-farming in them--and you just act like--'Hey, who cares?' And you meet a guy like Charlie, whose cute, and sweet, and funny, and makes his own garlic bread. And I think, okay, so maybe you got lucky, but then you meet Connor, and Paye and--
ME: --And the idiot and the drug addict?
BRIAN: Okay, fine, but the point is--you don't do what any gay guy is supposed to do to meet guys and you still meet them and meanwhile I can't find anyone that really works for me.
ME: Finding people that work for you has nothing to do with wearing ugly sneakers, Brian. Oh my God, do I really have to give you this talk?
BRIAN: The 'it's what's inside you' talk?
ME: It's not even about what's inside you. It's about the 'Hey, who cares?' When I turned 22, I just stopped caring. That's what it's about. It's about saying, you know what, I'm going to do date who I want, wear what I want, and do what I want--and if anybody doesn't like it, screw them, because I'm in my twenties, I'm quick, and I'm not wasting time wondering what the asshole across the room is thinking about me. You do that and all of a sudden, people start wondering about you.

I put my arm around his shoulder and led him back to the table. We finished out the rest of the dinner and I brought Peter home later that night. We hugged and that was that.

Well, sort of...

I know tonight was mostly to get back at Brian, and I'm glad you two worked things out, but I was wondering if maybe you'd like to try a real date sometime - Peter

Oh Christ...

FRIEND: So are you going to do it?
ME: No.
FRIEND: Why not?
ME: Because I'm tired of--
FRIEND: Drama?
ME: Hell no. Life is drama. I'm tired of always having to wonder how I'm going to do damage control.
FRIEND: Honey, that's why we need to get you an agent.
ME: I don't need an agent. I need a change of pace.
FRIEND: Is this when you tell me you're giving up the blog?
ME: What would you say if I did?
FRIEND: I'd say I thought you were going to follow through?
ME: That might be the whole point.

But of course, I have one more surprise in store.

Door opens.

Kevin?

Me on the other end.

What are you doing here?

ME: I think I found what I'm looking for.

And in I go...

Date #34: Yet Another Dinner Party

Yes, folks. Another dinner party.

Charlie had been busy with work for awhile, so he decided to make a return to the social scene in an elaborate style--

Meats, Meats, Meats.

ME: You're kidding, right?
CHARLIE: Yeah, I'm thinking of just going Italian.

Imagine my relief.

I didn't think twice about inviting Brian and Turner, especially since it would be Turner's first time meeting Charlie. Although it never occurred to me that Brian might want to bring a friend.

BRIAN: He knows not to say anything about you two dating. It's just that we don't get to spend a lot of time together because of work and stuff--
ME: Me and Charlie have the same problem.
BRIAN: So I was wondering--
ME: It's fine.
BRIAN: Really? It's fine?
ME: Yeah, it's fine.
BRIAN: Fine like 'I'm being mature even though I really don't want to be' fine, or fine like 'I'm really fine with it because I'm totally over him' fine.
ME: Fine like 'one of us needs to contract a disease so we can stop talking about trivial things like this' fine.
BRIAN: That works for me.

The NC was particularly crowded. Usually the place never has more than a few people in it, but on this day we had to run past three old ladies just to get our favorite table. Now I was wishing we had broken tradition just once and gone someplace else.

BRIAN: So, how's the celibacy thing going?
ME: Like a slow turtle, that's how it's going.
BRIAN: What do you mean?
ME: I don't know any more. Erasing the chore of even looking for sex has done this weird thing to my pscyhe.
BRIAN: Made it open to the possibility of doing more with your life?
ME: That and I'm pissed all the time.
BRIAN: It's just like when everybody on Seinfeld went celibate.
ME: You mean the 'Master of Your Domain' episode or the one where George couldn't have sex with his girlfriend because he thought she had mono?
BRIAN: No, I mean the one where Elaine got stpuid because she stopped having sex.
ME: That's the same one as--this is a conversation about nothing.
BRIAN: And we're talking about Seinfeld...ironic, no?
ME: I'll pay you a hundred dollars not to bring Connor to the dinner party.
BRIAN: Too late. I already texted him under the table.
ME: Fuck off.

When did I become such a swearer?

I showed up at Charlie's house early so I could help him steam the Broccoli--and no, that is not a euphamism. He was being incredibly sweet about my celibacy.

CHARLIE: Can we boink yet or are you still being a girl?
ME: Chop your celery, Bitterella.

I kissed him on the cheek and went upstairs to change.

Tommy was the first to arrive. He brought his new fling, this little Drinkie Gay (Twink + Drugs = Drink, or Drinkie) named Stefan.

Stefan is the type of gay guy who'll fit into a handbag--as long as its a hot satchel.

He was wearing sunglasses--in the house--and a t-shirt that said 'Miss Me?'

ME: Miss you? I just met you.
STEFAN: Huh?
ME: Your shirt.
STEFAN: What about it?
ME: It says 'Miss Me?' So I said 'Miss you? I just met you!'
STEFAN: Okay...

At this, he walked away, and I whispered to Tommy--

ME: Picked another English major, have we?
TOMMY: Fuck off.

Boy, it's catching on.

Turner was the next to arrive with his date, Zachary. For some reason, Zachary seemed really nervous to be there.

TURNER: He's not exactly...out.
ME: Excuse me?
TURNER: He's not out--not yet, anyway.
ME: You brought a closet case to the dinner party?
TURNER: And strawberry cheesecake from C-Factory.
ME: You're forgiven. Go on in.

About the time my hair sweated out the hair gel I'd put in it, Brian showed up with Connor. We shared that awkward 'This is awkward but we're trying not to make it awkward' moment at the door and then proceeded into the dining room.

CONNOR: You look good.
ME: Thank you.
CONNOR: Do you hate me?
ME: I wouldn't say hate.
CONNOR: What would you say?
ME: I'd say let's be WASP's tonight and pretend our lives aren't that screwed up, okay?
CONNOR: Fine by me.

And so we all sat down to a lovely dinner. Surprisingly enough, everything was going really well, up until we were all ready for dessert, and then Stefan--who had been looking over at Zach all night--said:

STEFAN: Didn't you go to my high school?

Now, this is a seemingly normal question that shouldn't illicit that dramatic of a response. But when you're a closeted guy in his early twenties who--I found out later from Turner--has a Greek Orthodox father, and who--I found out from Brian--even coaches youth football, you might freak out a little.

Except Zach didn't freak out a little.

Zack went nuclear faster than KJ Ill on a warm summer's day.

ZACH: I told you! I told you!

He stood up and began yelling at Turner.

ZACH: I told you I didn't want to come here! I told you somebody would recognize me! A couple of people, yeah, a couple of people aren't going to make a difference. What are the odds that someone there wil know you? It's just a few of my friends. Don't worry about it. You'll be fine. Nobody will say anything to you. You don't even have to make conversation if you don't want to. You're not going to run into anyone you know! I told you so! Didn't I tell you so? I told you so!

With this, he got up and left the table.

TOMMY: Wow, those mashed potatoes were amazing.

Turner went to go get Zach and calm him down. I went for the strawberry cheesecake since...Well, I wanted strawberry cheesecake.

CHARLIE: So Brian, how long have you and Connor been dating?

This is why they need to find a way to put drugs in cheesecakes.

BRIAN: Just a little while.
CONNOR: Yeah, but we're already in really deep.

It was then that I felt my teeth begin to itch.

TOMMY: In really deep? What's that mean?
STEFAN: Yeah, is that like a--
CONNOR: We just have really strong feelings for each other.
BRIAN: Well, I mean, we're still getting to know each other.

Brian was clearly trying to spare my feelings.

CONNOR: Yeah, but sometimes you just click.

And Connor was clearly not trying to spare my feelings.

CONNOR: The amazing thing about Brian is that he's so sure he wants to be with me.
BRIAN: He's also sitting right next to you. You don't have to use third person.
CONNOR: Why are you getting all touchy?
TOMMY: Maybe Brian doesn't do the sappy thing well.
BRIAN: That's not true.
CONNOR: He's incredibly romantic. The first time we made love, we both cried afterwards, and then he read poetry to me.

Hang on, anyone else need to throw up?

STEFAN: That's amazing.
TOMMY: His or someone else's?
BRIAN: Mine. I dabble in poetry.
TOMMY: I guess that's not all you dabble in.
BRIAN: I'm not very good.
CHARLIE: Brian, I'm sure you're great. I'd like to read some.
BRIAN: Well, it's personal.
CONNOR: You wouldn't believe the kinds of things we share with each other. Things I've never shared with anyone else before.

Jab, jab, jib-a-jab.

CHARLIE: Kevin, you plan on feeding a crowd of eighty with that cheesecake?

It was then I realized I had started to cut into the cheesecake when Connor started his little love monologue and now it was sliced into about one hundred tiny little slivers. Apparently, I hadn't wanted to let go of the knife so soon.

ME: I think I need to use the bathroom.

I made for the stairs.

CHARLIE: Babe, why don't you use the one down here?
ME: Because I might need to scream into a towel.
CHARLIE: I don't get it.
ME: Don't worry the right people do.

I ended up just sitting on the edge of the sink staring at the wall and waiting to see if my anger would ever subside. It was then that there was a knock on the door.

ME: Go away, Connor.

The door opened--because like a true jackass I had actually wanted him to come up so I could confront him; erego I left it unlocked--and Connor came in.

CONNOR: How did you know it was going to be me?
ME: Because Brian and Charlie know me well enough to leave me along when I'm angry
CONNOR: Will I make you angrier if I say I don't think you have a reason to be angry?
ME: Well, you won't be making me feel better.
CONNOR: Kevin, I'm at a dinner party at your boyfriend's house--
ME: Charlie is not my boyfriend. We're just seeing each other.
CONNOR: Doesn't seem that way to me.
ME: Well, that's what it is. By the way, what happened to the guy who answered your phone a couple of weeks ago?
CONNOR: That didn't work out.
ME: Aww, you should have told me. I would have sent a condolence card.
CONNOR: Don't be glib.
ME: Don't be an ass.
CONNOR: I wanted to be with you. You blew me off.
ME: Bullshit! You were impatient, and when you didn't get what you want when you wanted it, the spoiled brat in you kicked in and you took off, and now you're dating my friend just to get back at me like some immature junior high cheerleader!
CONNOR: Fuck you!
ME: Fuck you!

Again with the swearing, I apologize for those of you who are Greek Orthodox.

I stormed out of the bathroom only to find Brian on the stairs.

BRIAN: So, you think he' s dating me just to get back at you?
ME: Brian--
BRIAN: Give yourself a little more credit, Kevin.

With that, he walked away. Connor brushed past me and followed after him.

When I got back downstairs, Charlie was eating cheesecake at the table alone.

ME: Where are Tommy and Stefan?
CHARLIE: In the bathroom. They didn't know where the safezones were.
ME: You could hear--
CHARLIE: Everything.
ME: You know my voice projects no matter what I do. I hope to one day play arenas.
CHARLIE: Wow, you can joke through everything, can't you?
ME: Almost everything.
CHARLIE: Why didn't you tell me?
ME: Tell you what?
CHARLIE: Take our pick.
ME: I'm sorry.
CHARLIE: Yeah, that might not start cutting it yet.
ME: When will it...start...cutting it?
CHARLIE: Maybe when we're no longer 'just seeing each other.'

Ohhh....Hold the phone, AT&T.

ME: You're well-aware--

Charlie held up his hand.

CHARLIE: Yes, I'm well-aware that we agreed we could both see other people. I'm well-aware that you're not ready to make a committment right now. I'm also well-aware that just about every gay guy in this country can't hold down a serious relationship for more than five seconds, and for that matter, neither can the straight guys. I'm well-aware that you and I get along great, and have a lot in common, and make each other laugh, and enjoy spending time together--and I'm well-aware that that's not good enough for you. I'm well-aware that I've been patient, and understanding, and--I would hope you would agree--pretty much okay with everything that you've thrown at me so far. So what I'm going to ask you is, are you well-aware that dragging your ex-baggage into my upstairs bathroom and then tossing me off as someone you're 'just seeing' might have been a little bit, oh I don't know, disrespectful?

Hang on while I shrink down to about half an inch.

ME: Like I said...I'm sorry.

I know, it's lame!

I come from a family where apologizing means you've lost the battle, so the concept of something beyond 'sorry' is just something I can't grasp right now.

CHARLIE: I'll clean up later. I think I just want to hang out by myself tonight.

AKA Get the hell out of my kitchen, you hussy.

ME: Okay.

And with that, I left.

On the way home, I felt like the jerk of the moment. The guy everybody's hating for one reason or another. Worse than that, I felt like I deserved it. I don't necessarily think there's anything wrong with playing the field, but maybe playing with people's emotions is getting to be a little too much for me.

FRIEND: Don't hate the playa, hate the game.
ME: That's the thing. I never wanted to even play the game.
FRIEND: Speaking of games, did that closet case have a lacrosse player's build? Because I think I might know him.
ME: My world is falling apart.
FRIEND: Okay, so we're going to put the closet case back in the closet.
ME: I'm not trying to be all whiney--Me, Me, Me.
FRIEND: I'll give you five seconds.
ME: Me, me, me! Why does my life suck? Why don't people love me no matter what I do? Starving children in Africa don't have it as bad as me! Ahhhh!
FRIEND: See, didn't that feel better?
ME: God, now I know how you feel all the time.

When I got home I had an instant message on my computer.

Don't want to leave things like they are. Can we hang out tomorrow night?

I clicked 'Reply' and said...

Yes.

Date #33: The Elephant in the Room

I'd like to think I'm the type of person who doesn't put too much stock in politics.

Not that I don't think politics is important, but I just wouldn't want to be one of those people who completely dismisses someone because of their political affiliation.

Then I meet someone like Dwight.

Dwight would probably qualify for the "Biggest Disappointment" Award--at least for this month.

We met at a get-together I attended and hit it off almost immediately. He's smart in a quick kind of way, talks like an Aaron Sorkin character, and tends to follow up every quip with a modest smile to let you know he doesn't take himself too seriously.

Our date took place at the horrifically named Papa Razzi. I love the food and atmosphere there; I just wish they'd change the name to something else--maybe something so Italian I wouldn't know what it means.

The good thing about elections coming up is that there's always an easy go-to convo topic if you need one. Dwight and I were getting along fine, but I thought I'd open up the floor to the issue of politics anyway just to see what he'd say.

DWIGHT: To be honest with you, I'm really disillusioned as a Rhode Island voter.
ME: Oh, I understand. Corruption, nepotism--
DWIGHT: I was referring more to the fact that being a Republican in Rhode Island is like being a sphere.
ME: A sphere?
DWIGHT: Pointless. Sorry, I have a degree in Mathematics. They teach us stupid jokes like that as a...well, as a pointless attempt at integrating us into society.
ME: Wait, back up a sec, are you a Republican?
DWIGHT: Sure am.

Now, I've encountered gay Republicans before--Log Cabin, anyone?

In terms of how I feel about it, I usually side with Paula Poundstone's interpretation:

"Gay Republicans. We disapprove of our own lifestyle!"

But again, I'd like to think I'm accepting of other people's politics.

ME: That's cool. I've dated a few guys who were more on the conservative side.
DWIGHT: Well, I mean, there's being a conservative and then being proud enough to say what you are. I hold strong ties to the Republican party.
ME: Is this when you tell me your last name is Hatch?
DWIGHT: I'm afraid my family's roots aren't that illustrious.
ME: By 'illustrious,' do you mean 'cuckoo for cocoa puffs?'
DWIGHT: Maybe we shouldn't get into this too much. Politics on a first date can be a killer.

Spoken like a true GOP p***y.

Just kidding.

The truth is that sometimes I think I get into politics merely because I like having something else to argue about. My major distaste for Republicans obviously comes from the fact that I'm a gay man from Rhode Island who's only mildly religious. I think moreso I always found Republicans to be more hypocritical than Democrats, although I'm sure there's a good deal of hypocrisy in both parties.

Something about trying to get prayer back into schools and then giving the death penalty for people who do everything from smoke marijuana to jaywalk just struck a chord in me.

ME: You're right. We should just avoid the topic altogether.

Of course, now we were going to really hit it off. Every other issue we covered we were in agreement on--

Careers, Family, Billy Joel...

So that by the time dinner was over, the only thing we clashed on was lingering on in our thoughts like that bad Mathematical joke.

We walked around a little bit--it's just starting to get cold, but the shivers tend to look cute when done in the right way.

ME: So...abortion?
DWIGHT: Against it.
ME: Tax cuts for the wealthy?
DWIGHT: For it.
ME: Gathering up all the minorities and mass murdering them?
DWIGHT: Now, when you say 'minorities'...
ME: Whoa.
DWIGHT: Hey, you want to be toss a quip at me, I can toss it right back at you.
ME: Can I just ask what the attraction is in being attached to a political party that clearly does not want you there?
DWIGHT: You really think those few Democrats from the South want you in their party?
ME: Maybe not. But at least they vote in my favor most of the time.

At this point, we had reached Dwight's car. He smiled at me, and then looked up, as if searching for the right words to make me understand why he feels the way he feels.

He settled on this.

DWIGHT: I guess it all stems from me hating people who need to be P.C. I like people who speak their mind even when it's not the popular thing to say, and I don't like people who pretend that the best thing for this country would be for everybody to be equal, because I disagree with that in every way. Not everybody is equal. You and I are smarter than a lot of people, and why should we be ashamed of that? And why shouldn't we be offered more opportunities because of that? Why as a country are we always trying to catch all the weak links up to the strong ones? Everywhere you go someone wants to make you feel bad about who you are--whether you're gay, white, privileged, whatever. I'm sorry, but I refuse to feel guilty for having a little bit of luck thrown my way, and I don't think anyone in this country is going to get anywhere by trying to create more of that luck and spread it around.

With this, he gave me a hug and said "Good-bye."

And that was that.

ME: Could you ever date someone who had completely different political beliefs than you?
FRIEND: Easy question. I have no political beliefs.
ME: You must have some.
FRIEND: I believe in good alcohol, great sex, and musical theater.
ME: Oh, so you're a Libertarian.
FRIEND: Am I?
ME: No, I just needed some kind of response.
FRIEND: Does it really bother you that much that the guy is a Lego Republican?
ME: Lego? You mean, Log Cabin?
FRIEND: Why do they call it Log Cabin?
ME: Maybe it has something to do with Abraham Lincoln being gay.
FRIEND: So why don't they call it the Abe Lincoln Gays?
ME: I don't know. Maybe because having to hear an anchor on CNN say "Today on Capitol Hilll, the Abe Lincoln Gays were out in full force..."

Dwight called asking for another date, and I said "Um...okay."

The truth is, I liked the spark I felt when I found out there was something about him I didn't like.

Does that make any kind of sense?

Just so often nowadays, you go on "Blah" Dates. They're not bad dates, they're not great dates. They're just "Blah." You talk about each other's pasts, goals for the future, and it's all just "Blah, blah, blah."

The thought of having something to actually converse with someone about was kind of thrilling.

I guess I should make some sort of joke about being a bi-partisan, but I'll save that for a future entry.

Date #32: The Golden Oldie

Sometimes life plays funny tricks on you.

And by funny, I don't mean "Ha Ha" funny.

More like--

MOTHERF**KER WHAT THE #$%&?

--kind of funny.

I had that kind of funny when I went to work and found Paye finishing up another demonstration with the kids. I gave him a big smile and he asked me when our next date was going to be.

ME: Tonight would be great.

PAYE: Perfect. I know a great place we can go for dinner.

ME: Sounds amazing.

PAYE: Can we make it a late dinner though? I need to stop by my reunion first.

ME: Your reunion?

PAYE: Yeah, high school.

ME: Ouch. Five year?

PAYE: Uh...no.

ME: No?

PAYE: Try higher.

Higher?

ME: Um...ten year?

He was 28? He looked twenty-five tops. Then he did something that made my blood chill. He shook his head.

ME: Fifteen? You're 33?

PAYE: Uh...no.

ME: Oh, okay. Well--

PAYE: I'm 38.

This is when life made its little funny.

ME: 38?

PAYE: I know. It's the Indian skin. Keeps me looking young.

He was smiling. Obviously he got a big kick out of my mistaken guesstimates at his age.

PAYE: Does this affect dinner tonight?
ME: Um...

You're within a decade of my parent's age--what do you think?

ME: No, of course not. I'll call you when I get out of work.

I know, I'm a wimp.

After work, I put off calling him until I could confer with Brian at the Ole N.C. Needless to say it was a relief to be able to do a lunch like this again, but the name "Connor" hung in the air like mistletoe at a Christmas party.

BRIAN: How did you not know he was 38?
ME: I knew you were going to say that. That's why I took a poll at the library. I asked everyone who worked there how old they thought Paye was.
BRIAN: What was the most popular guess?
ME: Well, 77% thought he was 30, so I did undershoot a little bit by thinking he was 25 or younger.
BRIAN: Anyone guess 38?
ME: Nobody guessed older than 33.
BRIAN: Okay, so you were a little bit justified, but not by much.
ME: So what do I do now?
BRIAN: Tell the old perv you can't date him.
ME: I can't do that. I already have dated him. I've kissed him for godsakes.
BRIAN: All right, so you have yourself a sugar daddy.
ME: I don't think so.
BRIAN: Just explain to him how you feel. I'm sure he'll understand.
ME: Don't get me wrong. I'm all about age not being nothing but a number--
BRIAN: But that's a pretty big number.
ME: That number is 16. He was going to his prom while I was still nesting in amniotic fluid.
BRIAN: Please, I'm eating.

Then the convo turned...

ME: So...how's...you know?
BRIAN: Good.
ME: Good.
BRIAN: We don't have to talk about he and I, you know.
ME: No, we have to. If we're going to keep being friends, we have to learn to talk about it.
BRIAN: Okay, terrific.
ME: So...talk.
BRIAN: Well, we were fooling around last night--
ME: How 'bout them Patriots?
BRIAN: Shouldn't you be talking about baseball?
ME: Anything that changes the subject works for me.

Kevin Broccoli, ladies and gentlemen, maturity at its best.

Later that night, I met Paye for dinner at Kabob and Curry. I was fully prepared to break the news to him that I couldn't date him, but when he showed up he looked better than half the twenty-somethings in the place. It's so hard to stop seeing someone because of their age when they don't look their age at all.

We were having a nice time, chatting, and then I realized if I didn't break the news to him now I was going to end up chickening out again.

ME: So...about you being 38...
PAYE: I was waiting for this.
ME: You have to understand that it's a bit of a problem.
PAYE: Oh, I'd say it's more than a bit.
ME: So you think so, too?
PAYE: I can understand where you're coming from, but I would be lying if I said I've never dated younger guys before.
ME: As young as me?
PAYE: You would be the youngest, but not by much.
ME: Any particular reason you gravitate towards the younger set?
PAYE: They're more trusting, so it's easier to get them into my van.
ME: What?
PAYE: I'm kidding. I'm not a creepy old man; I just find that a lot of guys in this town don't take care of themselves so by the time they're my age they end up looking like the Crypt-Keeper. I work out everyday. I eat right. I don't smoke or drink. I want someone who can keep up with me physically.

Suddenly I thought of something else that might prematurely end the date.

ME: You mean physically or...boom boom physically?
PAYE: Is that a new kind of yoga?

ME: The thing is--I just recently took on a life of celibacy.

PAYE: Wow, seems like nobody's having sex nowadays, not even the younger ones.

ME: It's got nothing to do with my age. It's just a lifestyle choice.

PAYE: That's terrific. Does that include all kinds of sex?

ME: How many kinds of sex are there?
PAYE: It's just that I studied massage therapy. I can bring you to sexual levels you've never even dreamed of without taking off any of your clothes.

Just take those old records off the shelf...

ME: Maybe we can see how this works out. Maybe the age thing won't be so bad after all.

Paye smiled, and then sealed the deal with--

PAYE: You look a little tense. Want me to try doing something about that after we--

ME: Waitress!

We then went back to his place where he gave me the most amazing backrub I've ever had in my life. There are a few things that win me over almost instantly:

1) Someone who cooks.

2) Someone who knows all the words to "We Didn't Start the Fire."

3) Someone who can give a good backrub.

After that we just kind of fell asleep next to each other. The last thing that went through my head was--

In two years, this guy will be forty.

FRIEND: F**k "Old Time Rock 'N Roll," you should be singing "Father Figure."

ME: He's not old enough to be my father.

FRIEND: But he's too old to be watching High School Musical so I ask you, what's the point?

ME: The point is we're too old to be watching High School Musical.

FRIEND: Speak for yourself, whore.

ME: So you think I shouldn't be dating someone so much older than me?

FRIEND: That depends. What's Grandpa giving you for a weekly allowance?

ME: It's not like that.

FRIEND: You mean you're tapping that old redwood for nothing?

ME: I'm not tapping anything. Celibate, remember?

FRIEND: Honey, if I were dating someone that old, I'd be celibate too.

Well, for what it's worth--those levels of sexual ectasy?

Yeah, that was true.

Smile.

Date #31: IQ

First of all, you have to admit that "smart" is a relative term.

I've been able to recite the entire script of The Goonies since I was eight years old. I know most state capitals. I can beat at least one out of the three Ivy league students every time they have College Jepoardy. So, in general, I consider myself a relatively smart person.

Still, there are times when I amaze myself with the dumb decisions I make.

For example:

Upon finding out that my good friend, Brian, and one of my ex-potentials, Connor, had been seeing each other behind my back, I didn't make what you'd call "a smart decision."

Hi, this is Connor. Leave your message at the tone, and I'll get back to you.

ME: Hi Connor, this is Kevin. You're a shady motherf**ker and I hope you catch fungus from riding that stupid boat of yours. I hope you and Brian have lots of fun picnics together where you eat spinach, or arugala, or whatever food it is that's giving people stomach viruses nowadays. Thank you for taking all the great memories I had with you and turning them into bitter reminders of how dumb I was. Have a nice night.

But wait, it gets better.

Hi, this is Connor. Leave your message at the tone, and I'll get back to you.

ME: P.S. I want that fortune cookie slip I gave you back--the one that said 'You will find someone perfect for you.' You won't. So I want it back. Thanks.

Granted, I wouldn't consider that one of my finer moments in life.

I was still fuming the next day at the mall with Turner.

TURNER: Do you think maybe they kept it from you because they knew you'd be upset?
ME: So the solution was to lie to me until there was nothing I could do and then tell me and let me get upset?
TURNER: Nothing you could do? What does that mean? Why should you have been able to do something?
ME: Why are you taking their side?
TURNER: I'm not taking anyone's side. Don't start arguing with me, babycakes. I'm just trying to smooth things over.
ME: I don't want to smooth things over. I want things to stay rough. I like rough. Rough makes me happy.
TURNER: Suit yourself.
ME: Just help me find a decent pair of pants for tonight.
TURNER: What's tonight?
ME: I'm going on a date.
TURNER: Are you sure you're in the right frame of mind for a date?
ME: I'm pissed, insecure, and feeling violent--what better frame of mind could there be?

My date was with a guy named Will. I met him during high school. We went on one date, and then he moved to New Hampshire for college, but he'd recently called to let me know that he'd moved back home after graduation and would love to get together with me.

I wasn't altogether sure I wanted to add any more crazy into the cake mix, but I promised I'd follow through on this little experiment of mine, and since a good date usually buoys my spirits I called him last night after leaving the messages of death on Connor's machine.

Will and I met up at a great little place on Federal Hill. Being the quintessential Italian--a quality I happy to love in a man--Will picked the place, ordered the two most expensive meals on the menu for both of us, and then made it clear he intended to pay so I should just enjoy my food and not worry about it.

You have to love a guy like that.

Then we got around to talking.

ME: I just thought the whole thing was so redundant.
WILL: Huh?
ME: Just, you know, the same thing over and over again.
WILL: Oh...Why didn't you just say that?
ME: I...I did.
WILL: Sorry. I'm not an English major.

Normally that would strike me as a little bitchy, but Will said it with a smile, and I could tell he was just trying to make light of the fact that he didn't know what 'redundant' meant.

Hey, not everyone has a useless college degree.

Then a little further on in the convo...

ME: The movie was amazing. I can't get over how good the cinematography was.
WILL: I kind of just like action movies.
ME: Oh yeah. Me too. I like all kinds of movies.
WILL: I mostly stick to action. Oh, but did you see Jackass Two?
ME: Um...no. Didn't catch that. I heard it was really good though if you think about the homo-erotic angles and--
WILL: The things they stick up their ass man; it's insane.
ME: Yeah, I'm guessing that's one of the homo-erotic angles.
WILL: You're not one of those guys who has to dissect and analyze everything, are you?

I think any other answer but me flying a plane over his head carrying a banner saying 'Yes!!!' would be dishonest.

ME: I guess you could say that.
WILL: I'm more, like...I think with my gut.
ME: I'm pretty sure that's impossible.
WILL: Why?
ME: Well...never mind.
WILL: I just use my instincts more. Not as much thinking about stuff.
ME: So you're more visceral.
WILL: Huh?
ME: Exactly.

I should have asked him if he pushes his car with his bare feet.

Still, he did pick up the check, and for the rest of the night we managed to have a good time--possibly because I avoided using any word that had more than three syllables in it. Anytime Will talked, it was either about how much his job "sucks, most of the time" or how his ex-boyfriend is so "friggin' stupid."

After I got back to my apartment, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be calling Will again, not because he was a jerk, as that was not the case, but because of his lack of...well...intellect.

And that made me wonder--

Is it okay to make being "smart" a preference?

FRIEND: Honey, what have I told you time after time?
ME: Stupid guys do it better.
FRIEND: Bingo.
ME: But I'm not looking to just do it. The point of this was to find a relationship.
FRIEND: Let me present you with an analogy. Men are like puppies--
ME: This is already a simile.
FRIEND: Go for the ride, smarty pants. Your homework will be waiting for you when you get back.
ME: Fine, continue.
FRIEND: When you get a puppy, you get a dumb puppy. Because a dumb puppy will wait for you the entire time you're gone, and when you get back he's like 'Where did you go? Feed me. I love you. Look where I pooped.' A smart puppy starts chewing on your furniture, sipping your cognac, and screwing your best friend.
ME: Let's avoid the screwing the best friend part, okay?
FRIEND: Point is. Pick the dumb puppy.
ME: And what about things like conversation and intellectucal stimulation?
FRIEND: Boy, the only stimulating I need done can be handled with less than an eighth grade education. And by the way, why are you calling me now? Don't I usually get a call once the issue is resolved and the moral's been learned?
ME: Unfortunately, I had to move you up in the story since another one of my friends is no longer available to me.
FRIEND: That's so sweet. Do I get his speed dial number too?

By this time, I already had three unchecked voice messages on my phone from Brian, and one from Connor. I finally broke down and called the latter.

Hi, this is Connor. Leave your message at the tone, and I'll get back to you.

ME: Hi, it's me. I'm sorry for what I said. It was stupid and unfair. I hope everything goes well with you and Brian. I'm talking quickly before my stupid stubborn brain realizes I'm apologizing. Have a good night.

Before I could contemplate whether I was ready to call Brian or not, he saved me the trouble by calling himself.

BRIAN: Hi.
ME: Hi.
BRIAN: I'm a dick.
ME: Yes, you are.
BRIAN: But I didn't know what to do.
ME: You could have told me.
BRIAN: It's not always easy to tell you things.
ME: I'm aware.
BRIAN: So I made a stupid decision.
ME: That's the thing. I don't think it was a stupid decision. I think it was a smart decision at the time, that became a stupid decision when it blew up in your face.
BRIAN: That's a possibility.
ME: Well, I make those kinds of decisions on a daily basis, so I probably should have cut you more slack.
BRIAN: Thank you.
ME: Do you really love him?
BRIAN: I really think I do.
ME: And the other boys? Peter, Chef--
BRIAN: Over and done with--for good.
ME: Okay then.
BRIAN: So...
ME: So...
BRIAN: I don't want to lose you.
ME: I don't want to lose you either. Nordstrom's Cafe sucks when you're eating by yourself. The housewives shoot you pitying glances.
BRIAN: (Laughed, then--) I'll stop it if it'll be easier for you.
ME: No, you won't. You're just saying that cause you trust me enough to not be an ass and tell you that's not necessary.
BRIAN: Pretty much, yeah.
ME: Well...Do what you want; I'll deal.
BRIAN: You'll deal?
ME: I'll deal.

It always amazes me when smart people act foolishly, or when anyone acts foolishly for that matter. Maybe it's because it frustrates me, and maybe it's because it's so incredibly human you kind of marvel at that--

At seeing someone so human.

And it's kind of scary.

But you deal.

Date #30: Dance Off

Working in a library has its perks.

I get to meet a lot of interesting people. Readers, teachers, old men going on myspace to check out some Russian mail-order brides.

It's rarely as boring as you might think.

One of the programs we offer at the library is dance instruction for children. We started it earlier in the year, and it's become a big hit. Basically it's aerobics for the toddler set, but it's also one of the funniest things imaginable.

The instructor for the program is this lady named Carol who recently gave birth to twins. I guess I just thought we would hold off on having the program until she was off maternity leave, but when I came into work the other day I heard music coming from downstairs.

I asked my supervisor what was going on and she told me that Carol had found a replacement to take over the class while she was gone. This made me happy, as I love seeing little kids bust a move and end up falling on the mat--it makes my afternoon.

When I went downstairs, the first thing I noticed was that "The Best of My Love" by the Emotions was playing. Intriguing choice for a little kid dance dance revolution. The second thing I noticed was the new instructor--Paye.

That's right, Paye. (Like Pie-ay.)

He was having the kids move around the room in a circle and every once in awhile he'd encourage one of them to jump in the middle and do their own thing. I think I share one quality with most of my girlfriends--I love seeing a guy who's good with kids. Call me crazy, but I actually want to have a few some day.

Towards the end of the song, Paye got in the middle and did the robot, followed by the swim, and ended with something that was obviously a failed attempt at the worm. I was a tad smitten, not gonna lie.

When the program was over, I clapped along with some of the mothers that were there, and then went into the staff room to have some coffee. A few minutes later Paye came in and introduced himself, asking what I thought of his instruction.

ME: I think your worm could use some work.
PAYE: Don't I know it.

We got around to talking, and he mentioned that he's one of Carol's students, and she asked him to take over at the library until she was ready to come back.

ME: You must be really good if she asked you to take over. She loves teaching this class.
PAYE: Well, I'm really good with kids. She might have taken that into consideration.
ME: That and your penchant for The Emotions.
PAYE: What can I say? I love the 70's.

I mentioned that I'm pretty much hopeless on the dance floor. In addition to no sense of interior design and bad fashion choices, I was also not blessed with a typical gay's rhythmic abilities.

PAYE: I bet you got some moves in you. I'm actually not bad myself; I just like to goof around when I'm working with kids. Why don't you come by the dance studio sometime and I can teach you a few steps?

Uh...Step Up anyone? How hot is that little offer he just made?

ME: You sure you want to make that attempt? I'm no Jennifer Beals.
PAYE: That's okay. I was hoping more for a Jennifer Grey.

Wrap him up, ladies and gentlemen.

ME: Okay, I'm in.
PAYE: Terrific. It's a date.

He told me about a class he would be having the next night and invited me to go. Of course, I needed to bring along reinforcements.

Turner showed up at the studio looking like he was ready to samba. He had on dance pants, a black muscle shirt, and dance shoes. I, in comparison, had on jeans, a too-tight t-shirt, and sneakers.

TURNER: You ready to shake your groove thing?

How many more dance cliches can I stuff into this entry?

ME: Let's boogie.

The class was for beginner's--or so I thought. It was a basic hip-hop meets upper class type of thing. (Think Take the Lead.)

When Paye saw me, he smiled and came over to say hi to me and Turner. I saw him do the "Don't tell me this is your boyfriend" look, so I countered with the "We just eat B&J's and watch Grey's Anatomy together" look.

Paye partnered us off with two girls since we were going to be working on some kind of a dance duet piece. Turner's was a frisky Latina girl named Lisa and mine was a fairly pregnant girl named Patti who just happened to be Carol's little sister. (Good luck to that family come Christmas time.)

Patti explained that she wanted to stay in shape while pregnant so that it would be easier for her to lose the baby weight once she had her child. She seemed nice enough, and I figured that it wouldn't be hard to keep up with a pregnant woman.

And then the music started...

PAYE: We're going to go with a little Earth, Wind and Fire to start with--and a few pop and locks. Remember to keep your torso tight--Monica do your best.

PATTI: Whatever Passe.

PAYE: Never gets old. Five, six, seven, eight--

Let's groove tonight...Share the spice of life...

Patti was a dancing baby bearing machine. She popped, she locked, she bumped me with her stomach more than once. A couple of times she turned her back to me and tried a little ass bump, grind grind, hands in the air combo that had me wondering if she got pregnant by summoning a fertility god through dance.

Gonna tell you...what you can do with my love...

I looked over at Turner to find that he was having a grand old time with Latin Lisa. She would grab his hands and wrap them around her waist, and he would respond by spanking her like a naughty schoolgirl. There was even hair tossing. It was incredible.

I kept looking to make sure Paye wasn't taking in too much of all this, but it was clear he was. He kept laughing at our antics and then calling out instructions.

PAYE: I like those moves, Turner. I might steal a few.

Turner laughed and then did a move he calls the Republican. It basically involves shaking your finger at everyone and then grinding up on a boy five seconds later. The boy being me.

While he was on my leg I said--

ME: This class is very unstructured.
TURNER: I like it. It's the best workout I've gotten in awhile and Lisa keeps calling me Don Juan.
ME: You asked her to call you that, didn't you?
TURNER: It still counts, Broco.

At this point the song changed, and Paye called out--

PAYE: Kool and the Gang!

The class went nuts. Apparently this is the class favorite.

How you going to do it if you really don't wanna dance?

PAYE: Everybody in a line! Everybody in a line!

Oh Christ...

PAYE: To the music--Walk, walk, walk, walk.

Imagine Soul Train, but much whiter.

Turner and Latin Lisa were the first ones to go. They did spins, ninja kicks, the Egyptian, it was insanity. By the time Pregnant Patti and I went she was out of breath and the only moves I could pull out were the handicapped robot and the cheeky Czechoslovakian. We looked like Patti Simcox and Lorenzo Lamas in Grease.

By that time, the class was over and I was completely out of it. Turner came over to give me a pat on the back.

TURNER: You did really well.
ME: Oh yeah. I'm sure I was the picture of sexual attraction.
TURNER: Hey, I have a question.
ME: No, I wasn't aware that joint could bend like that.
TURNER: That's not what I was going to ask. I wanted to know why you asked me to come to this with you instead of Brian?
ME: Are you kidding? Brian wouldn't be caught dead in a dance class. Besides, he had a date tonight.
TURNER: Chef? Peter?
ME: Some new guy.

Before we could continue the conversation, Paye asked if I could hang back for a minute. Turner had to get going anyway, so we said our good-byes and then I changed into my street clothes. When I came back Paye had changed as well, and had different music playing.

Tramps like us, baby we were born to run...

ME: Bruce Springsteen?
PAYE: Not a fan?
ME: You can't do hip hop to Bruce Springsteen.
PAYE: I thought we'd try something a little more traditional.
ME: Who's going to lead?
PAYE: After what I've seen tonight, I'm not sure I can responsibly let you lead.
ME: Very funny.

He took my hand and we did a kind of fast waltz around the floor. I kept laughing--something about two gay men doing a waltz to "Born to Run" was just too cute and odd at the same time.

When we stopped, Paye gave me an amazingly soft kiss.

FRIEND: "Born to Run"? Honey, I hear Bruce Springsteen and my erection goes for a run.
ME: It was great. I love dancing like that. I feel like I'm a prince in the 18th century.
FRIEND: Except they would have burned you at the stake.
ME: Yeah, true.
FRIEND: Personally I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump 'n grind.
ME: This was just very...elegant.
FRIEND: Hey, I could be on Dancing with the Queers too if I wanted to be.
ME: Are you saying you know how to rumba?
FRIEND: Oh honey...I thought you'd never ask.

When I got back to my apartment, Brian was waiting on my front steps. He looked so distraught so I instantly assumed something had happened with one of the boys.

BRIAN: It's not that.
ME: Then what's wrong?
BRIAN: The guy I went out with tonight. I think I'm in love with him.
ME: After the first date?
BRIAN: It's actually the eighth date.
ME: Then why havne't you told me about him?
BRIAN: Cause I thought you'd be upset.
ME: I am upset. You're my best friend. If you care this much about someone--
BRIAN: Kevin, it's Connor. I've been seeing Connor. I'm in love with Connor.

Oh...

Wow.

Date #29: The Old Flame

Do me a favor before you read this entry.

Download the song "I'll Be Okay" by Amanda Marshall. It's off the My Best Friend's Wedding soundtrack. So if, by some chance, you own that CD, you're all set. I think it's Track #5. Just prep the song; don't listen to it yet. I feel this will enhance your experience of the following entry.

But before we get on to the date, let me catch you up on how things have been going with my new chosen lifestyle--the young and the way too restless.

Having been celibate for a little while reminds me of why it didn't work the last time--because as soon as you decide you're not going to have sex, suddenly numerous opportunities to have sex jump up right in front of you.

Case in point, Charlie has been on a physical kick recently. Apparently once he becomes really comfortable with a guy his libido goes through the roof. Lucky for me, the shingles started shaking right after I embarked on my new, sexless existence.

I was over Charlie's house watching Nip/Tuck when he jumped on top of me and starting kissing my neck. Normally I'm much better with my timing than this, but I was afraid if I didn't just blurt something out I was going to end up abandoning celibacy faster than Aaron Carter left his playmate.

ME: No sex--I'm--no sex!

Always the orator.

CHARLIE: Huh?
ME: I'm celibate now!

Charlie looked at me like I had just confessed to mass genocide. Then we had a talk, and he seemed pretty understanding, which is why he rocks.

Phone rings--I answer.

BEN: Guess who?

And everything just stops.

Cut to me sitting in Nordstrom's Cafe with Brian, and scarfing down enough carbs out of nervousness to make Atkins rise up from the grave and try sewing my mouth shut.

Yes, I'm getting a little dramatic here.

BRIAN: Ben?
ME: Yes, Ben. Haven't I ever told you about Ben?
BRIAN: The guy who broke your heart?
ME: Broke my heart? Try ripped it out and stomped on it with his--
BRIAN: --Little Satan hooves. Thank you, Miss Coco.
ME: I haven't seen him in three years.
BRIAN: So why is he calling out of the blue like this?
ME: Who knows?
BRIAN: Well, did you ask?
ME: He said he couldn't talk long and asked me to dinner tonight.
BRIAN: And you said?
ME: And I said? The man stopped calling me, then got another boyfriend, then continued to not call me, then saw me out in public and waved me over to introduce me to his new boyfriend, while the entire time I'm still thinking I'm his boyfriend since he never called to tell me I wasn't, and here I am the whole time thinking that he'ss lying in a ditch or something, and then he moves to Florida with the guy! And he has the nerve to ask me to dinner!
BRIAN: What time are you meeting him?
ME: Seven o'clock.

To say I got dressed up would be a massive understatement. I did everything but get a bikini wax. I needed to be amazing--like, Michael E. Knight amazing.

When he strolled in I remembered why I fell for him in the first place--Because I was a shallow, insecure little college freshman who wanted nothing more than to date the coolest guy in any room--and that was always Ben.

He sat down at the table and let out a long sigh.

ME: Did you just sigh?
BEN: Kevin...Broccoli.
ME: Yes...Ben?
BEN: You look so cute.
ME: Fuck off.
BEN: Wow, and you swear now?
ME: Yes, and you'll also be thrilled to know that the butter in my mouth finally melted.
BEN: Don't tell me you're still mad at me.
ME: Let's just say I may not be the best gay man in the world, but I can still hold a grudge like a real pro.

He laughed. In case you were wondering--like most cute guys--he is incredibly cocky.

BEN: So what have you been doing with yourself?
ME: Mostly I masturbate.
BEN: Really?
ME: No, actually, I'm celibate now.
BEN: Good for you. And that means you can't have sex with anybody? Even yourself?
ME: I'm going for the gold.
BEN: Good to hear you got a little ambition, finally.
ME: Pardon me?
BEN: You never really were the go-getter type.
ME: You're right. I should have tried to enjoy myself a little more. Perhaps it would have been easier if I wasn't worried that my boyfriend had gotten sucked up into a black hole.
BEN: Here we go again.

The waiter came over and interrupted the near brawl, and we both ordered drinks. He went for the classy alcohol, whereas I just ordered a soda. He looked at me as if I were a 12-year-old. He used to do that when we dated too. Apparently choosing not to drink was the equivalent of riding a three-wheeler.

ME: So why did you call me?
BEN: Haven't talked to you in awhile.
ME: Okay...So why haven't you called me then?
BEN: I was sorting some stuff out.
ME: Like what?
BEN: It's private.
ME: So why am I here?
BEN: I missed you.
ME: I'm sure your boyfriend would love hearing you say that.
BEN: Elijah and I broke up.
ME: Does he know that yet? Or are you going to wait until you introduce him to the new boyfriend to tell him?
BEN: There isn't going to be any new boyfriend.
ME: And why is that? Have you gone straight? You could cover a whole new market.
BEN: I'm getting married.

And the Cheesecake Factory stands alone.

BEN: ...To a man. Great guy. Nothing like Elijah--not that Elijah was a bad guy.
ME: Are you serious?
BEN: Dead serious.
ME: But I don't--
BEN: I wanted to make amends for what happened between us before I--Well, see, I was in New York and I saw this play by Neil LaBute.
ME: Please don't tell me you're going to say Some Girl(s).
BEN: How did you know?
ME: Is this where you tell me you're here to figure out why we didn't work so you can make sure that what happened to us doesn't happen to your marriage?
BEN: Not really. More than anything I just want to say I'm sorry.
ME: Terrific.
BEN: Yeah. (Pause.) So I'm sorry.
ME: Fuck off.

It was here that our waiter came back and I ordered. Most people would have taken that moment to storm off and leave the jerk sitting there by himself, but I'm not like most people--I'm hungry.

BEN: I understand why you're upset.
ME: Oh, I really don't think you do.
BEN: I know I was a jerk.
ME: Was? No. You are a jerk. Bringing me here to tell me this--that's what a jerk would do. A nice person would have just stayed vanished.
BEN: That's not really proper grammar.
ME: I'm aware!
BEN: Don't you believe in redemption?
ME: Only if you commit your life to Jesus.

Silence set over the table. I'm not sure how it happened but one of those all-consuming "We're nto talking" moments just occurred, and pretty soon we were sipping our drinks and not saying a word. Our meal came. We ate. We talked more to our waiter telling him that the food was fine thanks and could we have the bill. We split it. I walked out of the restaurant.

He caught up to me in the parking lot.

ME: There's really nothing else to say.
BEN: Can we just go somewhere?
ME: We went somewhere. We went to eat. You're getting married. Now I'm going home.
BEN: Look, there's got to be some way that I can make up for what happened.
ME: Why do you want to do that?
BEN: Because I'm selfish. I don't like knowing that you're still upset about what happened. I don't like knowing that I hurt a really decent guy. And I don't like knowing that if I run into you somewhere your first instinct is going to be to punch me in the jaw.
ME: First of all, my first instinct is and always will be to knee you in the groin. Secondly, the past is the past. And believe it or not, I'm okay with that. Am I still mad? A little bit. But that's got way more to do with me being disgusted with who I was than it has to do with being pissed at who you were.
BEN: I think I get that. But I think you should also know there was nothing wrong with who you were.
ME: I was naive, clingy, and insecure.
BEN: So was I. I just hid it better. Plus, you were eighteen. Not many people are connected to their souls at that age, Kevin.
ME: Where the hell did that come from?
BEN: My fiance is really into spirituality.
ME: Oh Christ, you're a guru.
BEN: He's just helped me see that I need to make right with the universe the things I've done wrong. I know it sounds like I'm in a cult or something, but it is based in good intentions.
ME: So is the road to Hell. (Pause.) Sorry. I'll stop giving you a hard time any second now.
BEN: Hey, whatever helps.

Phone rings.

TURNER: Kev-o, it's Turner. Come to karaoke.
ME: Wednesday is not for karaoke, Turner. That's Monday and occasionally Tuesday.
TURNER: Well, where I'm from we do karaoke on Wednesdays. Plus, Brian's here and he wants to meet the lothario.

Ben got directly in my line of vision.

BEN: Tell him I'll go.

These new cellular phones with their high volume are really a liability.

I pulled up to the karaoke place with Ben in tow. It was a restaurant with a large space in the middle for people who wanted to perform a little in between eating their cheesy fries. Brian was onstage when I got there. He was doing his own rendition of "You Only Get What You Give." When Turner saw me, he jumped out of the booth he was sitting in with Peter, Brian's Go-Go Boy, and gave me a big hug. Then he turned to Ben.

TURNER: And you must be the one that ran away.
ME: Turner!
BEN: That's me.
TURNER: Terrific. We've got a little surprise for you.

I was prepping myself to be horrified.

We were led back to the booth where Ben was sat down, and I was immediately pulled up onto the floor. Now, doing karaoke doesn't scare me. In fact, I enjoy it. But I had no idea what Turner had planned. Having not known him for very long, I was still trying to assess what type he was: The Holly Go-Lightly or The Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.

He got on the mic and to the entire restaurant announced:

TURNER: Ladies and gentlemen, Kevin will now perform a song...of closure.

Sweet Jesus.

I knew I was in trouble the minute the first few bars started...

I don't need to fall at your feet
Just cause you've cut me to the bone

I looked at Turner.

ME: You had to pick 'King of Wishful Thinking,' didn't you?
TURNER: Sing it, sister!

I looked at Brian.

ME: Traitor.
BRIAN: You know I can turn down Go West.

I looked at Ben.

And sang.

I'll get over you
I know I will
I'll pretend my ship's not sinking

And I'll tell myself
I'm over you
Cause I'm the King of Wishful Thinking

With Brian and Turner as my back-up and half the crowd rejected hags and queens who love a good nineties jam, everyone was loving it.

If I don't listen to the talk of the town
Then maybe I can fool myself

Then I saw Ben--laughing. He was smiling and clapping along with everyone else. Along with a lot of other things, I forgot what a good sport he was.

After I finished the song with a Tina Turner strut, and a Charlie's Angels pose with B&T, I said my good-byes, and walked Ben to his car.

(By the way, this is when you should start playing the Amanda Marshall song.)

BEN: That was a lot of fun.
ME: Yeah, except every time I hear that song I envision the Mickey Mouse Club music video of it.
BEN: With the hot guy in the boat that's actually sinking?
ME: Yup.

We got to his car, and there it was. That moment when you have to say something profound.

ME: I really like your hair like that.
BEN: Thanks. I was really hesitant to cut it short like this...
ME: It looks good.
BEN: Thanks...again.

Tell me that's not Pulitzer-worthy, kids.

ME: Just be happy, Ben. Don't feel bad anymore.
BEN: Wow, a little karaoke goes a long way.
ME: This isn't necessarily forgiveness, but just like you don't want to be responsible for someone's misery, neither do I. And as you can see, I have friends. I have a job. I have a great life. You didn't scar me that badly.
BEN: Good to hear.
ME: So are you nervous about getting married?
BEN: I'm terrified.
ME: Well, that's a good sign, isn't it?
BEN: I just don't know if I have it in me to be a good person.
ME: Congratulations, Ben. I think you may have just entered the human race.
BEN: I'm serious.
ME: So am I.
BEN: When the hell did you...become this?
ME: What's this?
BEN: The guy that got away.

Awwwww.....Sing it, Amanda Marshall.

ME: Good-bye, Ben.

And I gave him a hug, and he drove off. And that was that.

ME: You know, as much as I've hated him all these years--the second I saw him again it was like...like I got a part of me back that I haven't had in awhile.
FRIEND: Would that 'part' happen to be your virginity?
ME: Dear God--
FRIEND: Hey, all I'm saying is you always either eternally love or eternally hate the first person you were ever with, that's all.
ME: So how do you feel about your first person then?
FRIEND: I love all three of them.
ME: You mean all three of them were--
FRIEND: I don't do details--unless I can remember them.
ME: Do you think I should send him a wedding present?
FRIEND: Yeah, send a stripper. It's always good to test the marriage early on.

After seeing Ben go, I drove to Charlie's house, let myself in, and crawled into bed with him. The older, wiser Kevin doesn't need a guy's arms around him to make him happy anymore, but as long as they're there anyway...

I'll be okay.