Date #60: Making It Up

Scooter showed up at the library--again.

SCOOTER: I have an idea.

Instant terror seized my body. It was like hearing Daphne Rubin-Vega sing "I Dreamed a Dream."

SCOOTER: I'm going to be your fact-checker.
ME: Excuse me?
SCOOTER: Everyone's doubting the validity of the blog. You don't want to end up like James Frey, do you?
ME: On the top of the New York Times bestseller list?
SCOOTER: And disgraced for life.
ME: Disgraced for life on the top of the New York Times bestseller list?
SCOOTER: I'm going to see just how much you spin when it comes to these dates.

Part of me was intrigued to find out how he was going to do that.

ME: Do you think I spun our date?
SCOOTER: No, you were fairly accurate. But then again I give you good material so you don't need to spin. But what happens if you go on a boring date?
ME: There's no way to know. You can't follow me on a date until I come across a boring one and then see how I write about it.
SCOOTER: Au contraire.
ME: You know how to use au contraire correctly?
SCOOTER: I'm going to set you up with a really dull friend of mine and then I'm going to go with you--it'll be a double date.
ME: And who are you bringing on this double date?

I swear I'm not making this s**t up.

ME: Are you kidding me, Turner?
TURNER: He came by to see Brian and I was here, and he seems cool.

We were at his apartment redoing the painting job we had done earlier. Brian hated the color and so we were slapping on another layer. Brian and I were avoiding the fact that he was back with Connor--why is it whenever my friends do something wrong I never find out directly from them but rather by having the guy they shouldn't be dating pick up their cell phones?

Okay, so maybe it doesn't happen that often.

Turner was on the mend from having his old (hidden) love Gary brought back into his life and he planned to relinquish any thoughts of him by going on a date with Scooter.

ME: This is just weird.
TURNER: Why?
ME: Because you're the new guy. Scooter was the old guy.
BRIAN: It's like Jan from The Brady Bunch going on a date with Jan from The Brady Bunch Variety Hour.
ME: Bingo!
TURNER: No Bingo! It's not like that at all, and besides, it's just a date.

Just a date--Ha. It's always just a date until something bad happens and I end up writing a blog entitled "Date #79: Helping Scooter and Turner Move In Together."

BRIAN: I'm tired of this. Let's go get Antonio's. I need tortellini pizza.
ME: I second that.
TURNER: I third. Brian, why didn't you like the color anyway?
BRIAN: It just didn't do it for me. It was all right, but I mean, I have to live in this room, you know?
ME: Fair enough. We'll talk more when I have pizza in front of me.

At the pizza place, Brian went on about his problems with pizza.

BRIAN: I was listening to that radio show you like--
ME: This American Life. (www.thislife.org)
BRIAN: Right, and they had this guy on talking about how he spent years looking for the right sofa.
TURNER: Sofas are important.
BRIAN: Yeah, but they compared it to him looking for a girlfriend.
ME: I know that episode. It's about how the guy kept finding great couches but none could live up to his expectations.
BRIAN: And now it's me with the paint. And me with guys.
ME: Oh, do we want to go there?
BRIAN: It's not just Con...him. It's just that he's so, like, not there?
TURNER: Ellusive.
ME: He's Mr. Ellusive.
BRIAN: And I never have to worry about him living up to expectations because he's never even tried to meet my expectations.
ME: Trust me, he can't.
BRIAN: And because he doesn't try, I'm never really disappointed.
TURNER: So no effort is good effort?
ME: Apparently.
BRIAN: I'm never going to find the right paint.

We all took a moment to suck in that depressing metaphor, and then ordered more pizza.

Scooter called me later to give me the details about the boring guy I would be taking out on a date.

ME: Scooter, is this really necessary?
SCOOTER: Hey, this is the only way to make sure you're not making this s**t up.
ME: Fine, but ixnay on the blog when it comes to urner-Tay.
SCOOTER: What?
ME: It's pig latin.
SCOOTER: I'm lost.
ME: Now or eternally?
SCOOTER: Huh.
ME: What's his name?
SCOOTER: Doug.

Doug didn't seem to be too boring. Shy maybe, but not that boring. And he was dorky in a cute sort of way. Scooter, Turner, Doug, and I went to Kabob and Curry and after a few minutes I realized that Scooter's hope of this date being boring was going to fail miserably. Doug was making great conversation and had already managed to make me laugh several times. I excused myself to use the men's room and Scooter followed me.

SCOOTER: Horrible, right?
ME: Scooter, he's great.
SCOOTER: Are you kidding?
ME: I think you actually found me a wonderful guy.
SCOOTER: Dude, he's a lameass.
ME: He's your friend.
SCOOTER: So are you.
ME: Thanks.
SCOOTER: But you're not a lameass.
ME: And neither is he. But don't worry, good dates are actually even harder to write about than bad ones.
SCOOTER: Oh really?
ME: Yeah, because when you're given good material there's always that temptation to embellish it just a little to make it perfect.

I should have kept my mouth shut. I realize this now.

SCOOTER: All right then, let's kick things up a notch.

Did he just use an Emeril-ism?

We quickly finished our meal, but I could see Scooter had some kind of plan in his mind. I could see the little hampster in his head running around in that rickety wheel he calls a consciousness. Then it hit me--about the same time as it hit me.

What's the best way to add a little drama to a date?

SCOOTER: Hey, you guys want to hit up the club?

Turner and Doug were down for it, so I coudn't very well say no, even though it's going against everything I believe (see Date #21).

Oddly enough, nobody we knew was there. We started dancing and I smiled at Scooter as if to say, Your plan failed Frattie, but next year in Jersulam.

He smiled back. We moved close together for a quick dance-convo.

SCOOTER: This is going to be the most embellished date.
ME: Why do you say that?
SCOOTER: Because nothing's happening.
ME: I'm enjoying the company of friends and a great guy.
SCOOTER: Who wants to read that shit?
ME: Did you ever think maybe it's not what I write about but how I write it?
SCOOTER: Like making stuff up?
ME: No, like just being honest about how I feel about things. Maybe that's what makes you like reading it?
SCOOTER: Nah, that's not it. I only like it when bad stuff happens to you.
ME: Wow, you're an asshole.

At that, I walked away. There you go, a little drama for you, Scooter.

I couldn't understand what the point of the whole night was. To make me look like a liar? A fraud? To try and prove that it's impossible to meet someone nice? Something has to go wrong? Thoughts were spinning in my head. It didn't help that "It's Raining Men" was playing over the speakers. I wanted to go back to dancing and just have fun with Doug, but once again, Scooter had gotten under my skin.

Why couldn't he have just stayed...Well, he didn't really go anywhere, but...Why couldn't he have just not--Oh just cut to the Friend convo, or do people not believe he's real either?

FRIEND: Honey, this shit's too hot to make up.
ME: That boy--something about him--
FRIEND: Can I pose a suggestion?
ME: Go ahead.
FRIEND: Could it be that you like him?
ME: Uh--no.
FRIEND: Should I bring up your little snow romp?
ME: Don't get me wrong. I may be attracted to him, but I don't have actual feelings for him.
FRIEND: I don't blame you. I don't have feelings at all. But I still think something's going on there.
ME: If anything ever happened between Scooter and I, it would be based purely on sexual tension, clashing personalities, and intricate codependecies based on psychogical deformities in both our characters.
FRIEND: In other words, your parents?
ME: Pretty much. I need to find a nice boy. Someone to--
FRIEND: --Settle for? Like that awful paintjob you talked about?
ME: What are you saying?
FRIEND: Settling means you ended up where you thought you were going to and that disappoints you, but who would have ever thought you'd wind up with Scooter?
ME: That's not a reason to date someone.
FRIEND: And yet there's no reason not to give it a shot, right?

Scooter came up the stairs after me--he chased, I'll give him that. I stood looking out on the dance at all the happy dancing people. That's what I dislike most about clubs--it always seems like everyone's having a better time than you even when you yourself are having a pretty good time. Doug was dancing with Turner, there were gays everywhere getting down to the Weather Girls, and I was upstairs listening--once again--to Scooter apologize for being Scooter.

SCOOTER: It's just hard for me to accept that I feel this way.
ME: What? Feeling what way?

Damn me and my need to write a nice paragraph while someone is talking.

SCOOTER: Your blog is just--I mean, you're funny, and smart, and even when you fuck up you say you fuck up, and I like that about you, and I just wanted to think maybe it wasn't true, because when I'm around you I forget a lot of those things about you.
ME: So...what are you saying?
SCOOTER: I'm saying if all that's true, then I think you're someone I might want to be with--like for real.
ME: Scooter, we're better as friends. We decided this.
SCOOTER: Maybe I want to undecide it.
ME: You can't undecide something.
SCOOTER: Undo it.
ME: No.
SCOOTER: Kevin--
ME: It would be a huge--
SCOOTER: Kiss me.
ME: Excuse me?
SCOOTER: Say yes.
ME: To what?
SCOOTER: Say you'll kiss me and then say no.

What the--

ME: We're on dates with other people.
SCOOTER: Wow, I don't care. Say I can kiss you.
ME: Scooter--
SCOOTER: Come on.
ME: Do it.

And he did.

Why do I always end up at a club kissing Scooter?

...And why do I like it so much?