Date #74: The Burning City

A friend once talked to me about living in Rhode Island.

I said that sometimes I feel like living here is a little like being in a burning city. Rhode Island is just one of those places that everyone really wants to leave.

BRIAN: I'm thinking of Madison.
ME: Wisconsin?

Brian had recently broached the topic of moving at one of our N.C. lunches, and since then he's been perusing different options.

BRIAN: It would be something different.
ME: And probably not much more exciting that Rhode Island is.

(I've actually never been to Madison, Wisconsin, so excuse me if I'm wrong about this.)

The point I've been trying to make to Brian is that so many aren't happy because of where they are, but who they are. I think if you're satisfied with yourself you should be able to live pretty much anywhere and be okay with that.

I once knew a guy who moved to New York because he couldn't stand living here anymore, and when he got to New York, he said all anyone talked about was wanting to get out of New York and move to L.A.. Finally, he moved to L.A., and all he heard there was about how great London and other parts of Europe were. When he made it over to London on a trip with some friends, he had people asking him, "You're from America? That's so cool! Have you ever lived in New York?"

Moral of the story: Discontent resides everywhere.

However, Brian was not planning on moving to New York, L.A., or any other major metropolis. He wanted to do a complete life change.

BRIAN: Boise.
ME: Idaho?
BRIAN: No?
ME: What is it you like about Boise?
BRIAN: Who do you know that lives in Boise?
ME: Nobody.
BRIAN: Exactly.
ME: So, you're going to move for the sake of moving.
BRIAN: People do it.
ME: People suffering from mid-life crises do it. You're in your early twenties.
BRIAN: I need to do something. I feel stagnant.

I think the Tommy thing hit him a little bit harder than I originally thought it would. Apparently they had gotten very close, and even though Brian knew he wasn't really the 'marrying' type (I use the term loosely since we're all gay) he had hoped for a miraculous reformation a la Samantha with Smith on S.A.T.C.

ME: Moving because of a boy just seems a little drastic to me.
BRIAN: It's not just this boy. It's every boy. Every boy in this state is royally f**ked up.
ME: Oh, and I'm sure in Boise they're much better adjusted.
BRIAN: Look, it's not like I ever planned on living here my whole life anyway.
ME: Why not?
BRIAN: Because! It's Rhode Island.
ME: So if I said I might travel and see the world and do all that but eventually wind up living my life back here, you would think...what?
BRIAN: That's great for you, but it's just not my thing.
ME: Well, not everyone can live in Madison.

That pretty much ended the discussion. Where I'm from happens to be a pretty big part of me, and when someone insults that, whether they know it or not, they're sort of insulting me.

TURNER: I'm sure he didn't mean it that way.
ME: It's ridiculous. He tells people he's leaving and they say 'Great!' I tell them why he's leaving and they say, 'Well, it's still cool that's he moving.' It's like, as long as you get out of here, you're making a good decision. Apparently, I live in Beirut and nobody told me.

We were getting ready for our big presentations in Paye's class. The snobby gays were doing something to "The Night the Lights Went Out In Georgia"--one of those modern pieces that they show during the Oscars while everyone's trying out the salsa.

Turner and I had decided on something a little more upbeat, but I was having trouble with it since my mind was occupied with Brian's potential departure.

TURNER: Are you upset about the reason he's leaving, or just the fact that he's leaving?
ME: I'm upset because my friend is leaving. Yes, Turner, you've solved the mystery.
TURNER: Don't get snippy with me, Snappy. I might be blowing off this popsicle stand one day, too.
ME: Oh really?
TURNER: Yes, really. I don't plan on raising a family in Rhode Island, you know. I want to live on a farm.
ME: Since when?
TURNER: Since I was kid.
ME: And raise what? Lesbians? Norman Bates' replicas?
TURNER: You don't see me laughing at your dreams.

Point taken.

ME: I'm sorry, Turner. I have no right to make fun. My only dream at the moment is still having friends when I'm thirty.
TURNER: Things change, Kevin. You just have to roll with it. If Brian leaves be happy for him, and don't make him feel like he can't ever come back if he needs to.

God help me if Turner ever needs help on that farm. He's so sweet to me all the time, I'd probably have to offer my help milking the lesbians.

That night, I had a date with Sean, a young entrepreneur I got asked out by when he came into the library looking to check stock quotes and I spent ten minutes helping him find the internet explorer. (He actually knew where it was; I just hovered in the hopes of getting a date--don't judge, it worked.)

We went out to dinner and we wandered--I can't imagine how--onto the talk of going places.

I filled Sean in on Brian and Turner's joint plans of someday living out of state.

SEAN: I can't understand that. Rhode Island's a great place to live.
ME: Thank you! I know!
SEAN: You've got great restaurants, nice beaches, culture, it's close to everything--
ME: I knew I wasn't crazy. That means a lot to hear you say that.
SEAN: I would definitely want to stay here for awhile.

Hearing that made me like Sean so much. Actually, hearing someone say 'I'm not going anywhere for awhile' made me happier than anything. Ever since I've graduated college, all I hear is people saying good-bye to me. I guess at some point I could just say good-bye myself, but I never feel ready for it.

After dinner, I asked Sean if he wanted to see a late night movie.

SEAN: The truth is, I would love to, but I have an early flight tomorrow.
ME: Oh? Where are you headed?
SEAN: London.

Surprise.

SEAN: My company is doing some work over there and I'm going as a rep.
ME: That sounds fun. How long are you going to be gone for?
SEAN: To be honest, I don't know. At least six months, but--
ME: Six months?
SEAN: Yeah. This is going to be a real undertaking. I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up being there for a couple years or so.
ME: Years?
SEAN: I should have mentioned this from the start--
ME: --Or when I was telling you about my thing with people leaving...
SEAN: The truth is, I kind of asked you out on a whim. I guess I wanted one last connection here before I left.
ME: So you could sever it?
SEAN: I didn't know things were going to go as well as they did.

I didn't really want to talk anymore. I just wanted to grab a block of cheese, nacho doritos, mac and cheese, pickles, and sprite and have a full on trailer trash night complete with a viewing of Killer Clowns From Mars.

DWIGHT: So they shove them in the cotton candy?

Dwight, Scooter, and Nick had agreed to indulge me.

SCOOTER: Dude, pass the doritos.
NICK: 'Dude,' your breath smells like an episode of Roseanne.
ME: The point is not to be classy. The point is to binge. Now somebody give the man his doritos and pass me a pickle.
DWIGHT: Imagine being wrapped in cotton candy. That would be gross.
SCOOTER: We should get cotton candy.
NICK: I still want to hear what happened last.
ME: It's nothing.

I hadn't told them about the final moments of the date.

SCOOTER: Spill it, Kev-o.

It was right before we went to our respective cars.

SEAN: Hey, this is going to sound really nuts--

Great, he wants sex before he goes international.

SEAN: --Extra ticket and--
ME: Wait, sorry, I was doing an inner commentary.
SEAN: Huh?
ME: Did you just invite me to London?
SEAN: I have an extra ticket--round trip. The company just always gives out two assuming people have wives, mistresses, personal assistants, rabbis--
ME: And you would give it to me?
SEAN: It's either that or it goes to waste.
ME: And what would I do there?
SEAN: I don't know. Hang out. See the town. It might be fun.
ME: I don't even know you and you want me to get on a plane with you and hang out with you in London?
SEAN: Why not?
ME: I don't have a passport or--
SEAN: I'm not leaving till eight tomorrow. While I'm packing, you could--
ME: Are you seriously doing this? I can't believe you're seriously doing this.

He smiled and kind of looked off to a side in a really adorable way.

SEAN: I can't really believe I'm doing it either, which is why I think I'm doing it. I also don't want to go to a new place not knowing anyone--if it's not too pathetic to admit that.

It was actually really really endearing.

NICK: So you're going, right?
ME: No, I'm not going.
DWIGHT, NICK, and SCOOTER: Why not?
ME: I have my job. I have obligations--
SCOOTER: You have cranial damage.
ME: Hey!
DWIGHT: What have you got to lose?
ME: I can't just jet-set off like that! I'm not a character in The Sun Also Rises!
DWIGHT, NICK, and SCOOTER: Huh?
ME: Never mind. I work at a library. It's...librarial.

I went home that night wondering if I could do it. If I really had it in me. This could be my moment. My chance to flee the burning city.

FRIEND: Get on the f**king plane.
ME: But what about?
FRIEND: Honey, there comes a moment in every princess's life when she has the opportunity to be swept away by a handsome, rich, and probably well-hung prince. This is your chance.
ME: My job?
FRIEND: Quit it. You work at a library. They have libraries in London.
ME: My family?
FRIEND: You have a family?
ME: I can't do this. It's too sudden.
FRIEND: Nothing really amazing ever happens slow. That goes for life, theater, comedy, and sex.

So...

London?