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Date #88: The United Front

Let it be known that too much of anything is never a good thing.

Even friends.

Turner was preparing for his first big run-in with Gary at a club.

TURNER: I've got to strategize about this.

A group of us were over Dwight's house watching Little Children (and by Little Children, I mean a tape of the Hairspray cast on Oprah--there was no chance of us actually sitting through Little Children--despite how much love I have for Patrick Wilson in that movie.)

ME: How does one strategize about running into someone?
TURNER: I need a United Front.
BRIAN: Beg your pardon?
TURNER: I need to bring lots of people with me so it'll look like I've moved on with my life.
BRIAN: Because clearly you haven't?

Turner was recently starting to show some pep again, but the thought of seeing Gary had set him back about three cartons of B&J's.

ME: So how does one create a United Front?
NICK: Is it like a posse?
DWIGHT: How do you get to be in the United Front?
SCOOTER: Is ass-kicking involved?
TURNER: Let me explain.

A United Front is pretty much like it sounds, although in theory, it's a little bit more like papering an event. You see, what happens is that you know someone you know who (usually an ex who you lfet on bad terms with) is going to be somewhere, and you get a bunch of people to show up with you (like a posse, or an entourage) and make it look like you are just Mr. Party. The trick to a United Front is that you don't actually enter with everyone you invite. You enter with a sizable group and then everyone else you invited stagger in throughout the night.

BRIAN: And the point of that is?
TURNER: So that all night people are coming up to you and saying hi and whatnot.
ME: Sounds brilliant. I'm in. I even have a plus one.

An old buddy of mine--Mac--was coming home after graduating from college in the Midwest and he asked if he could take me out. Despite my theory about dates and clubs, I thought, Eh, why not? It's summer. Time to live a little.

NICK: I'll go. I can even call up some of my buddies.
BRIAN: You have buddies?
NICK: You don't think I spend all my time waiting for you motherf**kers to pick up the phone and call, do you?
DWIGHT: I can bring some guys from Log Cabin.
ME: Nobody from the orgy.
SCOOTER: Boo.
TURNER: Scooter, you can bring some people, right?
SCOOTER: Turner, man, I have you so covered.

That's when we should have started worrying.

The first wave arrived at the club at 11pm. The first wave was not to include Turner. Brian, Mac, and I were to arrive first so that we could set the scene for Turner's big entrance at 11:30. The second wave comprised of Nick and his friends was going to arrive at 11:15.

Can you believe they don't let gays in the army?

As soon as I got to the club, I spotted Gary. He was there with a really cute guy and they appeared to be really happy to be there with each other.

We were going to have to do this mother up.

Mac had been really cool with regards to the whole "Hey, you wanna be in a United Front" thing. He even offered to wear army fatigues, but I thought that might make him look like he was planning to blow up the club rather than consume it.

MAC: Gary looks pretty happy.
BRIAN: And that guy is pretty cute.
ME: He's not Turner.
BRIAN: No, Turner's shorter and his arms aren't that impressive.
ME: Brian!
BRIAN: Just putting it out there.

The guy looked like your typical dumb jock type. He was also not listening to anything Gary said to him. Every once in awhile his eyes would land on Gary and he'd laugh at whatever Gary had just said, but he clearly was more interested in who else might show up than who he was with at the moment.

That, I thought, could work to our advantage.

ME: We might need to change the game plan a little.

I texted Turner.

TEXT: EAGLE HERE WITH HOTTIE.
TEXT FROM TURNER: :O(
TEXT: NO :O( HOTTIE NOT INTERESTED
TEXT FROM TURNER: :O)
TEXT: I THINK HE MIGHT WANT TO BAIL
TEXT FROM TURNER: SHOULD WE?
TEXT: UP 2 U
TEXT FROM TURNER: LET'S FO IT.
TEXT: YOU MEAN DO IT?
TEXT FROM TURNER: YEAH
TEXT: OKAY! :O)

I caught the boys up on the plan.

MAC: So we're actually going to try and get this guy to abandon Gary?
ME: Hey, Gary walked out on Turner and now it's a little over a month and he's looking to suck face with some airhead at a club in front of everyone.
BRIAN: Everyone being all the people we invited here tonight.
ME: Whatever, point is, if he wants to jump back into the dating pool, he might as well learn now that there are some hot friggin' fish to compete with in there.
MAC: Good metaphor.
ME: Thank you.

The second wave arrived.

Nick had brought a decent amount of poeple with him--I'd say seven or eight. And with that number we had already pretty much overtaken the dance floor since it was only 11:15 and the club doesn't even pick up until 11:30.

Everyone was instructed to run back and forth to each other asking, "When's Turner going to get here?" and "Has anyone seen Turner?"

(Just imagine the waiter scene from Hello Dolly! with Turner as Carol Channing.)

MAC: Did you ever consider what would happen if Gary heard all this and decided to leave?
NICK: Then we could have the club to ourselves and this stupid United Front thing would be finished.
ME: Hey! We're Turner's support system here! Show a little team spirit.
BRIAN: Is there where you say 'Hoo-Wah!'?
ME: Don't test me.

At 11:30, I saw a large group of people entering the club...

...Let me rephrase that. I saw a pack, a herd, and a gaggle.

I had no idea Turner had these kind of connections.

Then I saw who was leading the pagglerd.

SCOOTER: How's this for a Front?

I grabbed Scooter and dragged him upstairs.

SCOOTER: What's your issue, Broccoli?
ME: First off, yelling out that we're a Front in front of Gary--not a good idea.
SCOOTER: Okay, point taken.
ME: Secondly, who the hell are all those people?
SCOOTER: You said to round up some people.
ME: We said 'some people' not the Class of 2007!

We ran back downstairs to find that you couldn't even move across the floor. That's how crowded it was. And of course, Scooter hadn't briefed his people as well as Nick had, so they were saying things like--

"Who's this dude Turner we're supposed to meet?" and "Anybody got any coke?"

It wasn't until 11:40 that I realized Turner hadn't even showed up yet.

I texted him.

TEXT: WHERE R U?!?!?!?!?
TEXT FROM TURNER: DON'T KNOW IF I CAN DO THIS
TEXT: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TEXT FROM TURNER: I'M SORRY
TEXT: TURNER!
TEXT FROM TURNER: IT'S TOO HARD
TEXT: WE'LL TALK L8TER

I broke the news to everyone.

ME: Turner's not coming.
BRIAN: You're kidding.
MAC: Why not?
ME: He can't face Gary.
NICK: He wouldn't have to. I can't even see him anymore with all these people.
BRIAN: Should we have the D.J. make an announcement? Some of these people look like they weren't informed that this was a gay club.
SCOOTER: Hey, I did what I had to do, man!
MAC: We could always try to go get him and bring him here ourselves.
ME: No way. By the time we got to where he is and back, the club would be closed.
BRIAN: So what do we do?
ME: We say hi to the Republicans.

The last wave--included Dwight and the Right Wingers--had just walked into the club.

Dwight's people had been better prepped than anyone. I guess Dwight must have gotten into the theatrical spirit, because it was like they were putting on some sort of pagaent. As soon as they started walking by me I could hear--

"I hear this guy Turner is really hot." and "When I meet this boy Turner, he is getting some major play."

ME: Way to go, Dwight. You really delivered. The Republicans are working it.
DWIGHT: Oh, none of these guys are Republicans.
ME: Huh?
DWIGHT: They're from my high school drama club. They were all getting together tonight for a mini-reunion and when I got the facebook invite I decided to ask them for a favor.
ME: And they said yes?
DWIGHT: Are you kidding? If they had had more time they probably would have went out and shopped for costumes.

At that point, one guy walked by me and said--"Where is that hunk? I want to scrub him up then hose him down."

DWIGHT: He's straight by the way.
ME: I could tell by the way he said 'hose.'

I will say this for the evening--it was certainly eventful--minus the actual event it had been intended for of course.

At the end of the night when everyone was filing out, Gary walked up to me.

GARY: Hey Kev.
ME: Hey Gary, how are you?
GARY: Pretty good. How are you?
ME: Oh, I'm beat. I did more today before 11pm then...um, never mind. Where's your friend?
GARY: He took off with some kid who said he was going to lick him--or something.
ME: Sorry.
GARRY: No biggie. He was just a friend anymore--and kind of a moron.
ME: Yeah, I could tell.
GARY: So...no Turner tonight?
ME: Nah, he didn't feel like coming out.
GARY: Gotcha. Well, have a good night.

He started to walk away.

ME: Um, is that it?
GARY: What?
ME: You're not going to ask how he's doing?
GARY: Is it bad that I don't really care how he's doing?
ME: Well--yes. You two did date after all.
GARY: I'm kind of all set with that.

Um, is it bad that I then wanted to punch him in the teeth?

ME: Wow, when did you turn to stone?
GARY: Okay, if we're going to do this, I'm just going to leave.
ME: We're not going to do anything. I just think it's dick that you suddenly disown someone and don't have any problem with it. Someone you used to be really close to.
GARY: Well we can't all be sentimental saps, Kevin.

Okay, gloves off.

ME: You're right. Some of us are human.
GARY: You have no idea the things he said to me the night we broke up.
ME: I don't care. People make mistakes. People screw up. You're not going to get to write off everybody who hurts you, Gary. And if you do, you're just going to wind up alone.
GARY: Thanks for the advice, pal.
ME: Anytime, dickhead.

I started to walk away. Mac and Nick met me halfway.

MAC: Kev, you okay?
ME: I'm fine.

I heard Gary from behind me.

GARY: You don't know it all, Kevin. You may think you do, but you don't.

I should have just kept walking, but I couldn't.

ME: I know that as messed up as I may be, I'm never going to be like you. And that's a comfort, Gary.
BRIAN: And by the way, your shirt looks like a science project gone wrong! Horribly, horribly wrong!

Mac and I dropped off Brian, and then wound up back in front of Mac's house where it was clear that I was really upset.

MAC: I guess it's a good thing Turner didn't show up tonight, huh?
ME: To see that asshole? Yeah.
MAC: Can I ask why you're so upset?
ME: It's just...Turner's the nicest guy I know. I mean, he's the closest thing to a genuinely good person that I know of, and...for someone to cut him off like that...just for what? An argument? A couple harsh words? I mean, I've screwed up so much worse than that--I've done things and said things that are way worse. And I guess I just always thought that--
MAC: That people would give you another chance?
ME: Yeah.
MAC: Not everyone's that forgiving.
ME: So everyone screws up but not everyone can forgive?
MAC: Welcome to the great paradox of life.

Gah.

I called Turner to see how he was doing. Apparently he'd stayed in all night looking at old photos of him and Gary. He asked me if I thought he was pathetic, and I honestly answered, "No." I said that everyone's entitled to a night of remembering when the people you love loved you back and when you were the happiest. As long as you remember that those times will come again in a different form, you're fine.

Right?

FRIEND: I often look back on photos of me when I was skinny and weep.
ME: You weigh a hundred pounds.
FRIEND: Exactly. I can't even fit in my skinny jeans anymore.
ME: The ones from Baby Gap?
FRIEND: Yeah, those. I wish I could have seen your little Front.
ME: I still feel good about it. I think it's important to create a support system for people you love.
FRIEND: A support system full of gays, skanks, drunks, and drama club alumni?
ME: Hey, you take help wherever you can get it.

Before we got off the phone, Turner and I had this exchange:

TURNER: Just tell me one thing--
ME: That guy wasn't even close to as amazing as you are.
TURNER: I was going to ask if Gary said anything about me?

And whether or not it was the right thing to do, I answered--

"No, Turner. He didn't say anything about you at all."

Hey, nobody said it was easy putting up a United Front.

Date #87: Are You For Real?

You know, I used to think you were a sweet guy and your blog was funny, witty and charming. Indicative of real life. Not so much anymore. You're kind a dick, actually. And these stories can't be real anymore.

- Billy

Scooter and I were reading some comments on the blog at his house.

When I came across the one from my formerly happy reader Billy, I was a tad distraught. I've always been bothered by people who don't like me. I guess I have the anti-Sally Field complex.

ME: I'm a dick?
SCOOTER: You're not a dick.
ME: He called me a dick.
SCOOTER: Who is he?
ME: I don't know. Just a guy who thinks I'm a dick.

Scooter didn't seem to get why I was so sad.

SCOOTER: Who cares what he says? It's just one guy.
ME: Yeah, but what if other people feel this way?
SCOOTER: Kevin, is it any surprise to you that you can be a dick sometimes?
ME: Yes, but this is indicating that most of the time I wasn't a dick, and now I've become a full-time dick.
SCOOTER: Not to mention a self-obsessed dick.
ME: Plus there's the comment about not believing any of this.
SCOOTER: Hey, I keep telling you to post pictures on the blog. That'll guarantee validity.
ME: Did you just use the word 'validity'?
SCOOTER: Um...it'll prove stuff...yeah.
ME: And how would I do that? Hey, great being on a date with you, mind if I take your picture for my website? That should get me on the second date, no problem.
SCOOTER: Good point.
ME: Meanwhile, I'm approaching Date #90, I'm no closer to finding Mr. Right, I've turned into a dick, and everybody thinks I'm a fictional character!
SCOOTER: I might have a solution for you.

The next day I was phoning somebody with some rather odd news.

VOICE: Hello?
ME: Hi, is this Mitchell?
VOICE: Um...yeah.
ME: Hey, this is Kevin.
VOICE (MITCHELL): Kevin...?
ME: Broccoli...From the blog...100 dates--
MITCHELL: Oh my God! Are you serious?
ME: Yeah.

I kind of wasn't expecting the "Oh my God!" It's not like I'm Maroon 5.

MITCHELL: Sorry, it's just weird--and kind of random.
ME: Oh, I'm fully aware of that. I got your e-mail.

Mitchell had sent me an e-mail awhile back telling me how much he enjoyed my blog and saying that if I was ever willing to bend the rule about dating people who know about the blog, then he'd love to go out on a date with me as he thought we would be really compatible. He gave me his phone number, and told me that even though he's from New Hampshire, he'd be more than willing to make the trip down.

After Scooter's suggestion that I take a reader out on a date to prove that a) I haven't become a full-time asshole and b) the blog--for the eightieth time--is not made up, I myspaced Mitchell to verify that he was not a) married b) in prison c) into raising cockroaches for fun or d) all of the above.

He wasn't. I called. And bingo, we were going to have ourselves a date.

MITCHELL: I should probably let you know though--I don't think the blog is fake. So you don't have to prove anything to me.
ME: Well, I would have offered to take this guy Billy out, but since he went to all the trouble of commenting on the blog just to tell me he hates me now, I didn't think he'd be up for pizza and a walk in the park.
MITCHELL: We're going to a park?
ME: It's just an expression.
MITCHELL: I'm pretty sure it's not--not in that context.
ME: Eh, tomato-tomato (pronounced toe-mah-toe.)
MITCHELL: I should pack some audios for the ride down.

He listens to audiobooks? Very literary (and I work in a library, so that pleases me).

ME: I feel kind of bad having you drive all the way down here from New Hampshire.
MITCHELL: Oh, don't worry about it. I've been to Providence a few times and I've always liked it. This'll be fun.
ME: Terrific. Can't wait to meet you.

Wow, this guy sounds really cool. I should have bent this rule months ago!

At this point, I've already let most of the core group know about the blog--and since most of them think it's just an elaborate livejournal type of thing; nobody really minds. Although I think things were about to get a little...post-modern--and I wasn't sure how they were all going to feel about it.

Mitchell arrived in town around lunchtime. Since one of the goals of the date was to verify that in fact everyone I know exists, and since he likes the blog, I thought he might get a kick out of going to lunch with me and Brian at the N.C.

ME: Brian, this is Mitchell. Mitchell, Brian.
MITCHELL: Nice to meet you.
BRIAN: Same here.
ME: Mitchell is here to make sure you're real.
BRIAN: Well...I am.
MITCHELL: I can see that. I thought you'd be taller though.
BRIAN: I'm sitting down.
MITCHELL: Yeah, but...still.

Awkward pause.

BRIAN: So, what else are you boys up to today?
ME: I made a picnic lunch for us.
BRIAN: How cute and gay. Are you going for a walk in the park?
MITCHELL: Is this a new trend I'm not following?
ME: Brian and I just hang out too much. We're starting to sound like each other.
BRIAN: Have I really been whining that much?
ME: Ouch, that stung.
MITCHELL: Wow, you guys really are snappy.
BRIAN: Beg your pardon?
MITCHELL: Like--back and forth. Like in some old drawing room comedy or something.
ME: Actually, Brian and I once acted in The Importance of Being Earnest together.
MITCHELL: You were?
BRIAN: He was kidding.
MITCHELL: Oh sorry.

Brian gave me the "Is this guy slow on the uptake?" look and I gave him the "Be nice, he's sweet and I'm trying not to be a dick" look back.

BRIAN: So Mitchell, where are you from?
MITCHELL: New Hampshire.
BRIAN: And you drove all the way down here just to hang out with Kevin?
MITCHELL: Yeah, why not? Random road trips can be fun.
BRIAN: Did he promise to do the Ashton Kutcher on you?
ME: Brian!
MITCHELL: No, but I was going to offer to pay for his lunch if he told me what it was.
ME: Had I known that, I would have ordered dessert, too.
BRIAN: Why? So you can eat an entire cake in front of me and then flaunt your fast metabolism all over the place?
MITCHELL: You're kind of...bitchier in real life.
BRIAN: Uh...what?

I decided that lunch with Brian is probably better viewed from afar than experienced.

Unfortunately, our picnic got rained out. Luckily, Turner was out of town and he had asked me to get his mail while he was gone, along with that task came permission to entertain Mitchell.

TURNER: Just don't hump on the couch.
ME: When did you get so crass?
TURNER: Maybe I should ask your friend Billy. He seems to be keeping tabs on all our character arcs.
ME: Very funny.
TURNER: You can't let stuff get to you, Kevin. You're a good guy. You know you're a good guy. And I know you're a good guy. You're no saint, but nobody is. We all screw up and we try to do better the next day. That's the best you can do.
ME: Too bad Mitchell can't meet you.
TURNER: Why? Is he collecting autographs?
ME: No, I just think you're the best proof I have that I'm not a jerk.
TURNER: How do you figure?
ME: How could someone as sweet as you be friends with a jerk?
TURNER: For that, you can hump on the couch.

I set the picnic out in the living room. Mitchell seemed really impressed.

ME: Granted, I didn't cook anything.
MITCHELL: Not even this deli container full of Greek pasta?
ME: Says the boy who might not even get to eat the delicious, store-bought, Greek pasta salad.
MITCHELL: Hey, I'm not complaining. You don't strike me as the cooking type now that I've met you.
ME: I think I've mentioned a few times in the blog that eggs over easy is as crazy as I go.
MITCHELL: I appreciate a guy who likes take-out.
ME: I adore take-out. I can recite the number of every good pizza in a five-mile radius by heart.
MITCHELL: You're lying.
ME: Tommy's Pizza. 351--
MITCHELL: Okay, okay. I believe you.

We ate and laughed and had an all-around good time. Then the doorbell rang.

I was a little surprised. I thought everyone knew Turner was out of town.

When I went to get the door, I had an ominous feeling.

So, of course, there was Scooter.

SCOOTER: I came to meet my fan.
ME: Oh Christ...

Mitchell was a really good sport about Scooter joining us. Once Scooter gave him the top-secret link to his own personal blog, it was all easy skating from there.

MITCHELL: I've been dying to read Scooter's Guide to Life.
ME: I can tell you Scooter's Guide to Life. It involves kegs, sex, and reruns of Home Improvement.
SCOOTER: The secret to happiness lies in those three key elements.
ME: It looks like our picnic is just about done.
SCOOTER: Why don't we show the boy the town? Give him a kind of 'Kevin's Reality Tour.'
ME: Lately it seems like nothing about my life has anything to do with reality.
MITCHELL: I do kind of want to see where you guys do karaoke.
SCOOTER: Well, c'mon Kev, the boy's asking for karaoke. They don't even have that up in New Hampshire, do they?
MITCHELL: Actually, we--
SCOOTER: Done. Let's go.

When Nick and Dwight heard that we were bringing Mitchell to karaoke, they were already signed up for their (and everybody else's) new favorite duet:

NICK: Love...Love will keep us together...Think of me, babe whenever...

The bar was already going nuts for it by the time we walked in.

MITCHELL: So the other guy up there is Dwight?
ME: Yup.
MITCHELL: Why isn't he singing?
ME: He doesn't sing.
MITCHELL: So why is he up there?
ME: He's the Captain.

Basically, Nick does all the work and Dwight puts on this captain's hat he found and sits in a chair miming playing the piano. It sounds cheesy, but you have to see them do it to really appreciate the camp value.

NICK: Young and beautiful...but someday your looks'll be gone!

Mitchell smiled at me.

ME: Happy so far?
MITCHELL: It's like stepping into your favorite t.v. show.
ME: I'm not sure I'd want to do that.
MITCHELL: How come?
ME: Because the first thing I'd do once I stepped into it would be to toss water in Meredith's face and tell her to get over herself.
SCOOTER: How do you know that's not what Mitchell wants to do to you.
MITCHELL: Hey Scooter?
SCOOTER: Yeah.
MITCHELL: Fuck off. (Pause.) Wow, that really is fun.

Once the song was over and Nick had uttered "Sedaka is back" we all sat down to chat.

NICK: So what do you think of me?
MITCHELL: You're kind of underwritten.
NICK: That's what I keep saying! Kev, you would think we never hang out.
ME: We don't really.
NICK: We hang out all the time!
ME: I know, but Scooter just comes out with better stuff than you do.
SCOOTER: Thank you!
DWIGHT: How about me?
ME: Guys, Mitchell isn't a focus group. He's my guest.
SCOOTER: And as your guest, I think you should invite him to do a little number.
MITCHELL: Oh, I'm with Dwight. I don't sing.
NICK: Kevin could sing for you. I'm pretty sure they have 'Play That Funky Music' on file.
ME: Fyi, I retired 'Play That Funky Music.'

Mitchell put his hand over mine and kind of leaned into me.

MITCHELL: Could you do something? Fan request?

Now how can you resist that?

ME: Fine, but you have to say it like they used to on T.R.L.
MITCHELL: Are you for real?
ME: Guys, help him out.

DWIGHT: Hi, my name is Dwight--
SCOOTER: Oh my God, I'm Scooter--
NICK: This is Nick from Rhode Island--
MITCHELL: And we want to request a song from Kevin Broccoli.
DWIGHT: Because he's so hot!
SCOOTER: Oh my God!
ALL: Ahhhh!!!!

Now, I'm not the best singer in the world--humongous understatement--but there are certain tunes I can hold.

Wish for you on a fallen star
Wondering where you are
Do I ever cross your mind
In the warm sunshine...

Hey, can you really go wrong with L.F.O.?

FRIEND: Why didn't you just sing 'What's My Age Again' and then blow him in the bathroom?
ME: I think you're supposed to sing Blink 182 after you blow somebody.
FRIEND: Are you feeling better about yourself now Mr. I Care What Some Guy Named Willy Thinks of Me?
ME: It's Billy, and yes, I do, sort of. But not because other people think different, although that does help.
FRIEND: Then why.
ME: Because I feel like I needed a reminder about why I was doing this.
FRIEND: To expose me to the world?
ME: No, although that is a nice bonus. It's to meet a good guy, and to meet a good guy, you have to be a good guy.
FRIEND: By that logic, I should be meeting people just like me.
ME: I'm pretty sure if you ever met someone just like you, it would cause a rip in the universe.
FRIEND: That or we'd have amazing sex and then never speak to each other again.
ME: Okay, you're right, go with the latter.

After my rousing rendition of "Girl on TV" changed to "Boy on TV" and sung pretty much directly at Mitchell (that's somehow appropo, I just don't know how). I escorted him back to his car and prepared to say good-bye to him.

ME: You sure you want to do the drive back so late?
MITCHELL: Don't worry. I have a Christopher Moore audiobook. I'll be fine.
ME: Well, thank you for one of the best dates I've had so far.
MITCHELL: Oh, thank you. I hope I gave you some good material for the blog.
ME: Actually, I usually like to wrap up the date with a--

But he was already leaning in for the kiss.

Big smile.

Date #86: Video Killed the Date

It really is amazing what some people are into, isn't it?

I got asked out on a date with a guy named Brock, who seemed to be normal to the point of boredom. It wasn't until I mentioned him to Brian that I got an earful about him.

BRIAN: He's into taping.
ME: Like duct taping?
BRIAN: No, Hawking, he likes to get guys on film.

This revelation came over sesame chicken at the N.C.

ME: Does he tell the guys?
BRIAN: Not usually. They have to find out by seeing a new post on x-tube.
ME: Can't he get into trouble for that?
BRIAN: I think the people who really care complain and then he takes those videos off, but he still keeps them nonetheless.
ME: I can't believe that. I can't even believe you're talking about the guy who asked me out.
BRIAN: This state breeds all kinds of weirdos.
ME: Well forget it. No way am I going out on a date with him now.
BRIAN: Hey, it's not like it's guaranteed that he's going to tape you.
ME: What do you mean?
BRIAN: I hear he only tapes the ones he thinks are worth it.

Na-who-what-what?

BRIAN: You know, the ones he thinks will put on the best...show.

Ahhh...

ME: It's still creepy. I'm going to pass.
BRIAN: Kevin, come on. I doubt you'd be taped.
ME: Why wouldn't I be taped? You don't think I could set that filmstrip on fire?
BRIAN: Um, actually, I was going to say you don't have to worry because you're not one to sleep with a guy on the first date.
ME: Oh...Yeah, that too.

Hmmm, since I'm not going to sleep with this guy, why pass up the date, right?

We ate at a little place closer to the beach. Brock was house-sitting for his parents in Narragansett, and after dinner, he invited me to come take a look at their shore-proximity locale.

The house seemed relatively normal, but I was on the watch. If this guy had a camera anyway, I didn't want to be caught doing something uncouth like standing awkwardly or...sneezing.

Yeah, because those x-tube viewers are so classy...

BROCK: Can I get you a drink or something?
ME: Sprite, if you have it.

I sat down on the couch in the living room. I did a quick scan across the room and caught a red light peeking out of a closet. I walked over to the closet prepared to catch this guy getting me on tape when I heard--

BROCK: Were you in the mood for a movie?

I jumped. I turned around and saw him with my Sprite.

ME: Excuse me?
BROCK: A movie.
ME: I've never done one.
BROCK: Huh?
ME: Seen one.
BROCK: You haven't.
ME: Not today.
BROCK: Okay.
ME: But I'm kind of--not in the mood.
BROCK: Then why were you checking out the V.C.R.?

I looked at the blinking red light in the closet--not really a closet, but a door that covers up an unsightly (and huge) entertainment system.

ME: I'm just...into electronics.
BROCK: Gotcha. Well, you want to see my room?

Oh boy, here it comes.

His room was actually broken into two parts--both of them being large. There was a little sitting, office area, and then a bedroom. On the opposite side of the room was a sliding glass door leading out into his yard. He went over to his IPOD docker and put on some music. We sat down in two of the chairs in his semi-leisure space.

He started to talk. I tried to listen, but mostly I was looking everywhere for where the camera could be hidden. There were a lot of options. Behind the posters. Underneath the chest of drawers. Stashed somewhere--

And before I knew it he was kissing me.

DAMN! I need to pay more attention when someone's doing the lean-in.

Pretty soon he was on top of me in the straddling position. I kind of tried to push him down a little bit so that he could get the hint that kissing was as far as this was going to go. Another part of me was looking for the camera's hiding place.

Brock must have picked up on it.

BROCK: What are you looking for?
ME: Oh...nothing.
BROCK: You've heard, haven't you?
ME: Heard about what?

God, I'm bad at playing dumb.

BROCK: Don't worry. I'm not filming you.
ME: Oh...um...good.

He started kissing me again. But now I wanted to know--

ME: Um, why?
BROCK: Why what?
ME: Why aren't you filming me?
BROCK: You want to be filmed?
ME: No, but you're not even trying.
BROCK: It's just that--
ME: Oh, I get it.

I got up and proceeded to leave.

BROCK: Kevin--
ME: You don't think I can put on a show? Let me tell you something, buddy. I'm a veritable Cirque de Soleil when I want to be, not that I'd want to be with you. I'm 135 and I'm bendy! Really bendy!
BROCK: You mean flexible?
ME: YES! And I'm vocal, and I'm passionate, and I'm...I'm...theatrical!
BROCK: Kevin, the reason I can't film you is because my camera is at my apartment. I didn't bring it here with me. I wouldn't want my parents finding it.

Um...yeah...that makes sense, actually.

But by this point, we'd reach the--

ME: Oh, just--fuck off.

--point in the date. So I left.

There goes my big debut.

FRIEND: It's okay, honey. The camera adds ten pounds and hacks off two inches.
ME: Good thing I got out when I did.
FRIEND: I'd like to view some of this boy's work.
ME: I actually looked up some of it myself.
FRIEND: And?
ME: He shoots from weird angles.
FRIEND: Amateur. Where do you think he hides the camera?
ME: From the looks of it, he doesn't hide it at all.
FRIEND: Ah, he's got the Tommy Lee move-it-around way of thinking.
ME: Are we analyzing homemade porn techniques right now?
FRIEND: You say that like it's not a legitimate topic.

It looks like Brock's gotten about five guys on tape so far--so it's not like he's any kind of stud, thank God. I only watched the five to see if I would recognize anybody.

And I did.

SCOOTER: Hey, why have him take it off? I'm proud of my performance. That s**t is Oscar worthy.

Guess some people aren't as shy as others.

Date #85: Ugly-itis

It's always nice when a guy flatters you.

SEAN: I just can't get over how cute you are.

Especially when the guy himself isn't too hard on the eyes.

SEAN: I can't believe you're still single. You're just so sharp looking.

I mean, how can you resist, right?

SEAN: I look at you and I forget my own name.

So how could any of this make you feel bad about yourself?

Easy.

You see who else he's been saying it about.

BRIAN: He's got ugly-itis, huh?
ME: Big time ugly-itis.

Brian and I were discussing this horrid disease sweeping the nation over lunch at the N.C.

ME: It's just odd to me that someone's type could actually be...
BRIAN: ...Of the unattractive variety?
ME: I wish I could use nicer terminology.
BRIAN: He likes butt ugly dudes. How does that work for you?
ME: This is making me feel worse.

I should probably catch you up to speed.

Met a guy.
Went on a date.
He complimented me...a lot.

SEAN: Do people ever tell you that you should model?

Went home.
Beamed from ear to ear.
Looked on his myspace.
Found a few of the guys he's dated.
And they're all...

BRIAN: Zoo creatures from Jupiter?
ME: Let's be a little more sensitive than that.
BRIAN: Has he dated a bald guy?
ME: Check.
BRIAN: A guy with bad teeth?
ME: Check.
BRIAN: Bad skin?
ME: Check.
BRIAN: Overweight guy?
ME: Yup.
BRIAN: Dare I ask...all of the above?
ME: Pretty much all of them.
BRIAN: Cut...him...loose.

But it's a little more complicated than that.

Isn't it always?

If he thought all those guys were cute, then does that mean I'm...you know...

BRIAN: In the Fugly Club?
ME: It's not that I really put all that much stock in looks--
BRIAN: Kevin--
ME: Okay, so I put some stock in it, but not a lot. I mean, it doesn't hurt if the guy has nice pecs and a washboard stomach, but I don't require it. It's just that...
BRIAN: You want to know if you're attractive or not?
ME: Yes, I want to. Tell me. Tell me I'm not a troll.
BRIAN: I would, but I mean, I've never really thought of you that way.
ME: Come on, Brian. We went out on a date together. We almost fooled around. You can't say you've never thought about me...in that way.
BRIAN: Yeah, but it's all subjective. I mean, who cares what I think?
ME: I care! Am I hot or not?

He looked at me for a moment with a pained expression on his face. Then he said:

BRIAN: No.

I was a little flabbergasted.

ME: No?
BRIAN: No, you're not.
ME: Are you serious?
BRIAN: Kevin, you know me. Do you think I would have been able to maintain a friendship like the one I have with you if I was attracted to you in any way? I'd never be able to let my guard down in front of you.
ME: So how do you let down your guard for people you're dating? You must be attracted to them!
BRIAN: That's something me and my therapist have been talking about a lot.
ME: So I'm not cute or anything?
BRIAN: In my opinion...negative.

I wanted a second opinion.

NICK: I know just how you feel.
ME: You do?
NICK: Yup.

I had asked Nick out to a bookstore while we conversed about whether or not I should find a hole to crawl into in order to shield society from my hideous visage.

NICK: I once went out on a date with a guy. Really cute. Really nice. Really never called me back after the first date. I figure, well, he's really attractive, maybe he was a little out of my league. I mean, it hurt to admit it, but I had to face facts. Then I see him out a few days later with this guy who is an utter gremlin. I mean, pour water on this boy and he's going to sprout brothers and sisters off his back.
ME: Gotcha.
NICK: At first I was pissed. Then I realized. This guy either had really bad taste, in which case I'm glad he didn't find me attractive because that would have meant I was gross--
ME: Um, Nick...
NICK: Or he was just into dating ugly guys because it made him feel good being the hot one in the relationship, so it was just--
ME: The thing is, Sean actually thinks I'm cute.

Awkward pause.

NICK: He does?
ME: Yeah.
NICK: Oh...So you're just worried that...
ME: That I'm unattractive.
NICK: Yeah...um...hey, look at this book here--Crazy, huh?
ME: The Old Man and the Sea?
NICK: Yeah, how about him? Being old and on the sea and shit...

This was going to send me straight to a plastic surgeon.

I decided I needed to take a more proactive approach.

After asking Sean if we could hang out again, I went over his house and asked to check my myspace on his computer. While he was talking to me I casually clicked on his myspace.

ME: Hey, look at these guys on your wall. Did you date all these guys?
SEAN: Yup.
ME: Wow...they're all so...varied in the way they...look.
SEAN: I know.
ME: Would you say you have a certain...type?
SEAN: That's kind of an interesting question.
ME: I was just wondering.
SEAN: A physical type, no. As a matter of fact, my friends all gave me a hard time for dating most of these guys.
ME: Oh yeah? How come?
SEAN: Because physically, I guess, most of them aren't exactly great to look at.

Self-aware, hallelujah!

ME: Do you think that I'm--
SEAN: Oh Kev, I'm aware that you're way better looking that anyone I've ever dated.

Oh, thank God.

ME: Oh, that's no big deal.
SEAN: The thing is, all these guys made me laugh. To me, a guy who can make you laugh is ten times sexier than some musclehead whose just going to flex and expect me to jump him.
ME: So that's why you're so attracted to me?
SEAN: Because you make me laugh...and the fact that you are, in fact, quite cute doesn't hurt either.

Johnny, show him what he's won!

Now I just have to get over the fact that I was so hung up over how I look.

FRIEND: I'm not giving you my opinion until you stop shopping in the Before section at Before and After.
ME: I wasn't planning on asking you. You've been known to give people eating disorders.
FRIEND: One more and I get a Lifetime special.
ME: I just can't believe Brian doesn't think I'm attractive. Shouldn't us being so close--
FRIEND: Honey, the truth is--Brian was right. You can't even get close to someone until you relinquish that voice inside you that says 'This guy is hot. Stop spilling your guts to him and start unzipping your pants.'
ME: So friendship and attraction just don't mix.
FRIEND: Not unless the kind of buddy you're seeking is a f**k buddy.
ME: And what do you think about this guy being attracted to guys who make him laugh?
FRIEND: If I want to laugh, I'll go to a drag show and throw shoes at people. When I'm with a man I want a $%*$ and a *#$*

Well, everyone's entitled to their own opinion.

Date #84: The Pub Quiz

At some point a group of friends will experience the following:

1) Death
2) Marriage
3) The birth of a child
4) Playing on a team of some sort

Since my group of friends consists of gay men, marriage is iffy, death is morbid, and children...

Well, do you want to try picturing Scooter raising a child?

But team sports? That was bound to happen.

It all came about when Brian and I were having lunch at the N.C. and I asked him for a favor.

ME: I need you to be on a team with me.
BRIAN: Does this have anything to do with table tennis?
ME: No, um, why would--
BRIAN: Never mind. Continue.

I was supposed to go on a date with this guy Bill, but at the last minute, he told me that he couldn't go. I assumed I was being ditched. I'll admit to being fairly upset. He was cute, and a transfer student with a hot British accent. Not to mention it's never easy being blown off.

BILL: No, it's not like that.
ME: Bill, it's fine, really.
BILL No, really--I just forgot that I had plans tonight.
ME: Do you mind me asking what your plans are?
BILL: It's going to sound stupid.
ME: Trust me, I won't judge.
BILL: I'm going to a pub quiz.

PUB QUIZ: A quiz held in a pub--popular trend in Britain.

ME: Well, that sucks. I really did want to hang out with you.
BILL: You know, most of my friends are going to be out of town that day. I was going to go to the pub and just find a bunch of guys to play with, but if you're free and you could get some people together--

Get some people together? Done and done.

BRIAN: Absolutely not.
ME: Why not?
BRIAN: No way am I going to a pub quiz.
ME: Come on, you love drinking and competition.
BRIAN: Kevin, I've heard about those quizzes. They're hard. We'll make idiots out of ourselves.
ME: No, we won't. We're smart.
BRIAN: Who else are you going to get to be on this team?

My next recruit was much more willing.

DWIGHT: I'll do it.
ME: Really?
DWIGHT: Absolutely. How often do you get to show off how much you know about current events and pointless topics in order to win beer mugs?
ME: Are you being sarcastic?
DWIGHT: Yes, but I'll still do it. I need a night out of the house.
ME: Fantastic. You might even meet a cute boy.
DWIGHT: Oh yeah. I'm sure these places are just filled with adorable gay men shouting out Mrs. Garrett's first name on The Facts of Life.
ME: Edna!

I was ready to kick some ass. I just needed one more person.

Luckily, I knew of at least two more equally smart people who I could turn to.

TURNER: No.
NICK: No way.

I was trying to convince at least one of the guys to do it. We needed five people for the team and as of now I only had three.

ME: C'mon guys.
TURNER: Nick, just do it. You're intelligent.
NICK: My ass is not stepping anywhere near a pub on a Sunday night. And what do you think the odds are that any of the questions are going to be about Zora Neale Hurston?
TURNER: Oh no, all the questions are going to be about Judy Garland and The Boys in the Band.
ME: Would you two stop being so elitist and pick someone to come with me?
TURNER: You pick.
NICK: Yeah, ask which one of us knows how botulism works.
ME: Better idea. Both of you pick a number between one and ten.
TURNER: Seven.
NICK: Three.
ME: Nick's coming with me.
TURNER: What number were you thinking of?
ME: I actually wasn't thinking of a number. I was just wondering whether they were more likely to ask about Zora Neale Hurston or Judy Garland. Zora won.
TURNER: Fair enough.
NICK: Damn!

Brian, Dwight, Nick, Bill, and myself showed up about ten minutes before the quiz was going to start. We all found a table and decided upon a team name.

BILL: You guys all know each other, so whatever you feel is best--
BRIAN: Homos 'R Us.
DWIGHT: Four Guys and a Conservative.
NICK: Who's the Black Guy?
ME: Broccoli's Angels?
BRIAN, DWIGHT, and NICK: No.
BILL: Me and my friends usually go by The Pop Tarts Posse.
ME: Inside joke?
BILL: Yeah.
ME: Love it. We're The Pop Tarts Posse.

Right before the quiz was about to start, I saw an unwelcome sight.

Scooter.

And he had a posse all his own--one that included Turner.

Turner came up to the table to say Hello.

ME: What are you and Scooter doing here?
TURNER: I told him about the pub quiz and he was kind of mad you didn't invite him.
ME: Oh Christ...
TURNER: So he told me he'd buy me a couple of drinks if I agreed to come along with him and be on his team.
ME: But you wouldn't be on my team!
TURNER: But you didn't offer me drinks.

I went over to where Scooter was seated with his three other teammates, which include the two drinks he "hung out" with the first time I met him and another one of my old friends.

ME: Hello Tommy, how are you?
TOMMY: Terrific thanks.
ME: Scooter, can I talk to you for a second?
SCOOTER: I really don't think we have much to talk about, Kevin.
ME: Scooter, I would have asked you but I didn't think this would be--
SCOOTER: Quiz is starting. Maybe you should get back to your table.
ME: Fine.

As I was heading back, I bumped into Turner.

ME: Do you guys have a name yet?
TURNER: Yeah.
ME: What is it?
TURNER: Scooter's Revenge.
ME: Amazing.

They were just announcing the first question when I arrived back at the table.

Question: These were found in a boy's ear this week--one was pulled out alive, the other dead.

BRIAN: SPIDERS!
ALL OF US: Ssshh!
BRIAN: Sorry! Spiders.

We whizzed through the current events questions getting five out of six.

BRIAN: We are kicking ass!
ME: I thought you weren't into this.
BRIAN: I'm getting into it! I want to win!
BILL: You just win tote bags, friend.
BRIAN: I want those f**king tote bags!

Apparently Brian has a competitive spirit.

Admittedly, I was also getting a little too involved, probably because I now wanted to beat Scooter's Revenge. They had gotten five out of six as well, except every time they got a question right, Scooter cheered and jumped up on his table beating his chest like Tarzan, Lord of the Apes.

BILL: Isn't that your friend?
ME: He's dead to me.
BRIAN: We're going to crush him.

The next round had to do with famous mothers--since Mother's Day is coming up.

Question: Who was the mother of Iphigenia, Orestaia, and Electra?

ME: Clymenstra.
DWIGHT: Excuse you.
ME: No, that's the answer. She was Agamemnon's wife.
NICK: Aga-who?
BRIAN: It's a weird theater question, it's his domain.

Question: A line from this movie is "Not in" this woman's house.

DWIGHT: Big Momma.
NICK: Aren't I supposed to be here for questions like that?

Question: This Republican Senator--

BRIAN: Dwight, do it up.
DWIGHT: I don't know the answer.
ME: Are you kidding?
DWIGHT: What am I? Newt Gingrich?
NICK: Yet you know Big Momma?
BILL: Guys, it's no big deal.

We then heard Scooter hoot.

ME: Dwight, answer the f**king question.
DWIGHT: I don't know!

Now we were behind. I could feel it.

The next few categories we were neck and neck with Scooter's revenge, but they always seemed to be just ahead of us. I was supposed to be using this time to get to know Bill. Instead, I was letting him see my wildly inappropriate competitive side.

The last category was music.

We got the first few questions no problem. The last question was what was sinking us. We had to finish the lyric.

I got a job that pays all our bills.

ME: Oh my God, I know this.
BRIAN: Kevin, what is it?
ME: Um, um...it's 'Fast Car' by Tracy Chapman. I just don't know the next lyric.
DWIGHT: Focus, Kevin.
NICK: Is it 'And I'll turn right back around?'
BRIAN: That's 'Gimme One Reason,' you jackass!
NICK: Whoa!
BILL: This could seal us the win.
BRIAN: Kevin!

I wasn't hearing anything from Scooter's Revenge.

ME: Driving...Driving in your car...Help me!
NICK: Speeds so fast I felt like I was drunk.
BRIAN: City lights lay out before us.
DWIGHT: And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder.
ALL: And I...had a feeling that I belonged...I...had a feeling I could be someone.
BILL: This is a little creepy.
ME: Not gonna lie?
BILL: Huh?
ME: Never mind.
BRIAN: You got it?
ME: Um...Stay out...stay drinking late at the bar!

Oh, that felt sooo good.

We ended up coming in second, but beating Scooter's revenge nonetheless. Best of all? We got to take home the tote bags.

On the way out, I stopped Scooter.

ME: You did really well.
SCOOTER: Maybe next time you'll let me be on your team.
ME: It really wans't anything personal, Scooter.

Tommy called out to Scooter from across the pub.

TOMMY: Scooter, you buying me and Turner those drinks?

I flinced.

ME: Promise me you won't sleep with him.
SCOOTER: You mean again?
ME: And look at you no longer allowed to be mad at me.
SCOOTER: Hey!
ME: Goodnight, Scooter.

I'd love to say there's a good moral to the story other than "Know Your Tracy Chapman," but I can't seem to find one.

FRIEND: The only guessing game I play while drinking is 'Guess what color my underwear is.'
ME: I think you would have had fun. Aside from me getting way too competitive, the evening was very enjoyable.
FRIEND: Honey, the only pubs I go to have gay porn playing in the background.
ME: It's always good to open up your horizons, especially when it means a nice night out with friends.
FRIEND: You mean a night out kicking your friends ass?
ME: That, too.

The next morning I called Bill to apologize.

ME: I know I got a little too into it.
BILL: I thought it was cute.
ME: You did?
BILL: Yeah. You organized a team just to hang out with me. That was sweet of you.
ME: Well...I try.

You have to hear this guy's accent. Sooo debonair.

And that was my first pub quiz--and clearly not my last. I want those damn polo shirts.

Date #83: Why Do We Keep Having These F**king Dinner Parties?

Do you want to know the problem with most great t.v. shows?

Once they become really great, all the characters sort of become iconic. Think of Friends, Seinfeld, and yes, I'll even toss in Dawson's Creek.

Once the characters become iconic, the actors usually stop playing them as characters, and instead, start playing icons--which you can't really do. So the shows might continue to be successful, but then something seems like it's missing and nobody can tell what. It's because things have taken on a certain level of predictability that makes the show comforting to watch, but not really all that interesting.

Shows that try to avoid this (Six Feet Under, The Sopranos--okay, basically anything on HBO) tend to watch their core audience base dissolve over time, because the audience wants to believe they know these people; they're friends with these people. So when the writers have the characters do unexpected things so as not to become predictable people are flung out of their comfort zone--and they usually just stop watching.

The moral of the story is: No true television show can ever stay really great for long unless it achieves that perfect balance of having predictability and intrigue. (Buffy is one of the only shows I can think of that managed it somewhat nicely--although at the end it did tend to falter a bit.)

I bring all this up because I've noticed that people seem to have the same problem as great television shows. At some level they either become predictable and frustratingly boring or they become unpredictable and violently unstable along with discomforting.

So what do you do?

This all started at Turner's house where Brian, Scooter, Dwight and I were having a Heroes party (because I wanted to and I've got enough dirt on all of them to make them do it.)

SCOOTER: This might qualify as the lamest night of my life.
BRIAN: Didn't you dress up to go see Pirates of the Carribbean?
SCOOTER: Yeah.
BRIAN: Then I think this pales in comparison.
DWIGHT: Speaking of dressing up, should I have dressed up like the cheerleader?
TURNER: You? Cross-dress?
DWIGHT: Why not? It might break my mother's cold shoulder. She's been giving it to me since I informed her I will be voting for neither Hillary nor Barack in the next election.
BRIAN: So you spite her by doing drag?
ME: You should have, Dwight, male cheerleaders are hot. Remember the Bring It On boys?

http://www.durante-vita.net/images/blog_dv/2006_11/bring_it_on.jpg

TURNER: Aw, Gary loved Bring It On.
SCOOTER: I would have hammered those boys like a nail into a coffin.

Let's all just have a party in our head for a second over that sweet little image.

ME: Hey, where's Nick? I thought you guys were bringing him.

I noticed them all look at each other with unease.

ME: Um, something I should know?
TURNER: Tell him, Brian.
BRIAN: You tell him. I'm not telling him.
SCOOTER: Dude, I'm not telling him.
ME: Will somebody tell me?
DWIGHT: I'll tell him. Nick's out on a date.
ME: Okay, what was so hard about that?
DWIGHT: It's with Christopher.

Oh Christ...

ME: Is he out of his mind? How many more times is he going to make the same mistake over and over again?
BRIAN: And this is why we didn't tell you.
ME: Why? Because I'd have a normal reaction?
TURNER: No, because you turn into Mr. Judgmental.
ME: You all think Christopher is an asshole too!
SCOOTER: Yeah, but he's Scooter's asshole, man. If he wants to date him, let him.
TURNER: It's our job as friends to be supportive, not to give him a hard time every time he does something we don't agree with, you know?
ME: Dwight, come on, you can't agree with this. Republicans don't support anything.
DWIGHT: Kev, I think maybe if you were more accepting of people's choices, maybe...

I wasn't even going to give him the satisfaction of finishing the sentence.

With a brisk, America's Next Top Model type turn, I went into the living room and attempted to cool off. While the cooling commenced, I thought of my t.v. analogy, and how I, myself, and many of my friends had all fallen into the same pattern with certain things.

That's when I got my (questionably) bright idea.

During the commercial break, I let the boys in on my plan.

SCOOTER: Dude, that's the stupidest idea--
BRIAN: It's like a bad sitcom situational--
DWIGHT: I don't think I even talk about her that much--
TURNER: Kevin, it's funny, but it's not something that--

By the end of the episode, I had convinced them to give it a try.

PLAN: Screw predictability. Let us be the "Buffy"s of the world, not the "Facts of Life"ers. Let's rebel against people's perceptions of us. Let's go against our own grain. Let's...Let's...

ME: Let's throw a dinner party!

I can hear the groaning already.

Here was my challenge to my friends: For one night, we were not allowed to fall into the typical stereotypes we had created for each other--with each other.

For one night:

Scooter was not allowed to be crass, overtly obnoxious pertaining to sexuality and/or physical attraction, AND he was not allowed to call people "Dude."

Dwight was not allowed to play the token conservative. He was going to have to remain open-minded (not so tough) and no matter what, he would not be allowed to dwell on whatever travesty his mother (Mrs. Brown) had recently committed (really tough).

Brian was not allowed to be sarcastic or cynical in any way. He'd have to be optimistic and perky the entire evening.

Turner was not allowed to mope, sulk, or mention Gary in any way. He would also be the one to call people out on their junk, should he see fit. He could not give unconditional support. If someone was clearly being stupid he'd have to say so, and he would not be allowed to mediate in any arguments whatsoever. (Remember the Boy Meets World episode where they try this? Okay, well, Turner is Topanga.)

As for Me, I would not be allowed to be judgmental. I'd have to be the Turner--or the opposite of Turner, I guess--and be completely supportive no matter what. There would be no gossiping, no condescending, and no witty side comments.

(Of course, what I say here doesn't count--trust me, folks. You don't want to read me sans catty barbs, it's not pretty.)

Dwight agreed to do the social experiment at his house, even though it meant exposure to Mrs. Brown, which would make the challenge harder for him.

Nick wasn't going to know about any of this. We were going to use him as our litmus test to see how we were doing.

Of course, everyone thought I would be the one to fail.

DWIGHT: Kevin, no way are you going to be able to bite your tongue for an entire night.
BRIAN: I'll be outlasting you. I know that much.
TURNER: My lack of being supportive starts now. Kev, you're going down.
SCOOTER: You don't stand a f**king chance...Um...We don't have to start now, right?

I decided I might even the playing field a little.

Patrick is someone I've known for awhile. We actually went out on a date or two about two years ago and somehow we've managed to stay in touch even though he comes as close to utterly repelling me as anyone I've ever met.

He's liberal, but in an obnoxious and uninformed way that makes other liberals look bad. He's always speaking before he thinks, which causes him to say the dumbest one-liners you've ever heard. His only redeeming quality is that he's incredibly handsome--built like a tank.

I decided he'd be the perfect candidate for the dinner party.

When I arrived at Dwight's house, I was the last person there. Things were already off to a rousing start. Mrs. Brown and Dwight had gotten into a fight right before the first guests arrived. Of course, nobody knew that until Mrs. Brown walked downstairs from her bedroom, said a few things to Dwight that would have made Alec Baldwin balk, and then returned to her place on the second floor.

Asked by Brian and Turner what happened, Dwight only responded by smiling forcefully and saying:

DWIGHT: I'd rather not talk about it.

Game on, bitches.

At first, the only person having trouble with Patrick being my date to the dinner party was Scooter. Normally he'd pull me aside seconds after my arrival and say something to the effect of--

"I'd like to strip him down and make him call me General Harder."

But tonight he just sipped his water and nodded at me as if to say--

"Bring it, whore."

I smiled back with my look that says:

"It's already been brought, skank-o."

I have to say, I could give Gabrielle Union a run for her money.

When we all sat down to dinner, Christopher was the first to start an incendiary conversation.

CHRISTOPHER: ...I mean, why does Barack have to represent every black guy? I mean, why does there have to be only one black candidate? Then he wouldn't have to be the 'black guy.'

I noticed Dwight chewing extra hard on his roll. Brian also looked like he wanted to make a comment but instead he just asked me to hand him the salad. Nick was already picking up on the change in his buddies.

NICK: Why are you guys being so quiet tonight?
ME: We're not. We're just enjoying the food.
BRIAN: It's delicious, Dwight.
DWIGHT: Thank you. I made it myself right before my mo...um, before...just before you guys got here and I nearly had a nervous breakdown.
ME: And what, perchance, would be the cause of that nervous breakdown?
DWIGHT: Probably the gnono you gave me.
ME: What?
DWIGHT: Brian can't be sarcastic, but I can.
BRIAN: No fair!
NICK: Huh?
ME: Inside joke, inside joke.

The quiet descended upon us again.

PATRICK: Personally I think Barack would be an amazing President. Think how pissed off the people in the South would be. F**kin' hicks.

Thank you, Jesus. I love winning, and you love it when I win, and I know this.

I thought Dwight was going to choke on his bread.

CHRISTOPHER: I'm with you. I can't stand those people.
NICK: Come on, Christopher. 'Those people?' You sound like...
CHRISTOPHER: What? The enemy.

He laughed this obnoxious laugh and Brian proceeded to butter his bread with an almost too-forceful vigor.

I've never seen people enjoy bread so much, let me tell you.

PATRICK: Not only that, but the guy is hot. I mean, is there anything hotter than a black guy in bed?
SCOOTER: I really don't think that's appropriate dinner conversation.
NICK: I'm sorry. Did you just say that? I mean, I agree with you, but did you just say that?
PATRICK: Lighten up, man. God, Kevin, you didn't tell me we were going to have prudes her tonight.
TURNER: That's funny. He didn't tell us he was bringing a giant dick with ugly shoes.

We all looked at Turner.

TURNER: Sorry, was that not supportive?
NICK: Turner, you feeling all right?
TURNER: Actually, that felt kind of good.
NICK: Okay...
TURNER: By the way, Scooter--I don't know what barn you were raised in, but I don't need to see the food physically going down your throat, so you can close your mouth when you eat. Kevin, tomorrow we're going shopping and I'm going to buy you something that an obese man couldn't fit it, and Brian, I had more sex than you did when we lived together even though I tried to downplay it and say we didn't.

We ran out of bread.

NICK: Turner, where is all this coming from? Is it the break-up?
TURNER: I...don't want to talk about that.
CHRISTOPHER: I know how you feel, man. Every time a guy breaks up with me it puts me in a bad mood.
TURNER: Then you're probably...

I noticed him trail off.

ME: What was that, Turner?
TURNER: I said, um...

He seemed to be debating something.

TURNER: I said I just realized I lost a bet I made.

I had him in the bathroom within minutes.

ME: What are you doing?
TURNER: I can't do this.
ME: Why not? You were on a roll!
TURNER: I can't just attack Christopher. He doesn't know about the challenge. Besides, I don't want Nick being mad at me.
ME: So you're out now?
TURNER: Yeah, I'm out.
ME: Oh, fine.

When we went back into the dining room, Dwight was yelling something up the stairs at--I presumed--his mother.

DWIGHT: I DON'T CARE HOW LONG YOU WERE IN LABOR WITH ME, I AM NOT VOTING FOR JOHN EDWARDS! I'D VOTE FOR STALIN FIRST JUST TO PISS YOU OFF! YOU'RE CRAZY! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN A BAG LADY!

As soon as he stopped yelling, he looked around and say very calmly.

DWIGHT: I think I've lost that bet too. Let me get the potatoes.

Nick asked what bet we were talking about, but we dodged the question. Brian, Scooter, and I were the only people still left in it. Luckily, Patrick was about to up the ante for me.

PATRICK: So Brian, you used to live with Scooter and Turner?
BRIAN: And now I live with Nick.
PATRICK: And you didn't get any of them in the sack?
SCOOTER: Not true. Brian and I dated before he met Kevin.
PATRICK: Good to know he's not completely asexual.

He laughed at this, but I could see Brian about to bubble over. Apparently Scooter thought now would be a good time to eradicate some of his competition.

SCOOTER: Oh, I wouldn't say that. The sex in our relationship was mostly asexual.

Hey, you couldn't call it a crass statement. It was practically Wilde. Scooter even threw in a hearty "A ha ha" to go with it. That sent Brian over the edge.

BRIAN: To be honest, during our relationship, Scooter was outsexual.
CHRISTOPHER: Outsexual?
PATRICK: What does that mean?
BRIAN: It means that while we were together, he was out having sex with everybody else.

I almost spit out my Sprite.

BRIAN: And I, ladies and gentlemen, am also out of that little bet--and gladly.
NICK: What bet is this?
ME: A bet that only Scooter and I are now in.
SCOOTER: Tarry ho, matey.
ME: What are you a fencing pirate?

With that, Scooter decided to up my ante.

SCOOTER: Christopher, pray tell, what do you think about the show Heroes?

Son-of-a-bitch.

CHRISTOPHER: I'm sorry, do people actually watch that?

Most of the country, actually, you doozer.

(Yeah, I called him a Fraggle character, whatever.)

CHRISTOPHER: I've tried watching that show, but I just don't have the attention span. Besides, I think it's ridiculous to expect to do serialized television that intricately. People aren't smart enough to follow it.

You mean you're not smart enough to follow it--where is the goddammed bread? I want more bread!

CHRISTOPHER: And of course it just adds to the pop culture fascination with superheroes--since people are too chickenshit to confront their own realities.
PATRICK: I'm with you, man.

All right, now even I was getting sick of Patrick. I took him in the kitchen with me under the pretense of helping Dwight bring out dessert. I was about to end this competition.

ME: Patrick, do me a favor.
PATRICK: Sure, what?
ME: Seduce Scooter.
PATRICK: Excuse me?
ME: Just enough to get him to say something dirty.
PATRICK: I don't get it.
ME: It's that bet we keep talking about. I bet him that he wouldn't say anything sexual all night. Normally he would have already made several advances on you.
PATRICK: So he's not a big prude?
ME: Far from it.
PATRICK: Awesome, he's really hot. Oh, sorry, I forgot I'm your date.
ME: No, it's okay. Go with that instinct. Just get him to say something lewd.
PATRICK: No problem-o.

Hey, I never said I was going to fight fair.

Back at the table, Old Brian and Old Dwight were going back and forth with Christopher.

DWIGHT: The woman is a pariah!
BRIAN: Forget Hillary! He just called me Whitie!
NICK: Brian, I call you Whitie sometimes.
BRIAN: You say it lovingly. He said it like he was about to sick the black panthers on me.
CHRISTOPHER: Are you calling me militant?
TURNER: Guys, let's try to calm down.
DWIGHT: Kevin, will you please say something?
BRIAN: Shut this guy down.
ME: Guys, who are any of us to judge him?

They kept at it while my little sub-plot developed in front of me.

PATRICK: Scooter, do you like chocolate on your dessert?
SCOOTER: Um...yeah, I guess.
PATRICK: What about on...other things?
SCOOTER: Other things?
PATRICK: Yeah, you know...strawberries, brownies, stomachs?
SCOOTER: Stomachs?
PATRICK: Nice, flat stomachs.
SCOOTER: Uh...Kevin, I think your date is being a little--
ME: Hey, I'm not one to look down on people for their promiscuity. I say live and let live. Let Patrick do what he wants.
SCOOTER: You mother--
ME: What's that?
SCOOTER: Nothing, dear friend.

Patrick leaned over the table.

PATRICK: You know what I really want? I want you to tell me what you would do if I climbed under this table right now.
SCOOTER: Um...I would...just be very...upset.
PATRICK: Really? Oh, okay then. Guess I won't--
SCOOTER: For the love of God, get under the table, unzip my pants, and start @#^$$^ my #$%# until I #$#! THERE! ARE YOU HAPPY? IS EVERYBODY HAPPY? I'M A HORNY MOTHERF*#$*#! I'M A GUY! I'M NORMAL! I'M OUT! OUT, OUT, OUT!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do it.

NICK: I still don't understand what the hell is going on.
ME: Don't worry about it, Nick. I think this'll be the last dinner party we have for awhile.
EVERYBODY: Amen.

When Christopher went to get Nick's coat, I cornered him.

ME: Christopher, you and I need to talk.
CHRISTOPHER: I knew it. I knew you were going to be all over me as soon as we were alone. Come on, Kev. Take what you need, but be quick. Look, we got a coat pile right here.
ME: I'd throw up in my mouth but I don't have much time. You need to end things with Nick--definitively.
CHRISTOPHER: Not unless you're going to give me a reason to.
ME: How's this for a reason? I've had my cell phone on record in my pocket just now. I've got you soliciting me on tape.
CHRISTOPHER: Whatever. Nick knows how I am.
ME: But does everyone else? Because a photo of you mixed with this audio on youtube could certainly start some fires.
CHRISTOPHER: Not going to stop me from getting laid though, is it, Kevin?
ME: Maybe not, but I've got enough energy in me to drag your name through so much mud even you won't be able to figure out what's true and what's not about you.
CHRISTOPHER: All that just because you want me away from your friend?
ME: My friends are me. They're an extension of my personality, the same way I am of theirs. If they screw up, so do I, and vice versa. You are a blight on whatever you attach yourself to, and you will not attach yourself to me in any way. That's why you have to go.
CHRISTOPHER: Wonder how Nick would feel about that.
ME: I don't care how he would feel about that. When someone's family, you don't bite your tongue and let someone run in front of a train. And my friends are my family. Not to mention I'm Italian. Ergo, I don't plan on letting anyone ruin their lives as long as I'm around and they're close to me. I only shut my mouth when I don't care enough about someone to open it. When it comes to the people you love, you speak up.

At the end of the night, Nick and Christopher took off (big surprise) and Patrick and Scooter decided to go out for a drink (even bigger surprise). That left Turner, Dwight, Brian and I to hang back and laugh at how stupid we'd been all night.

Maybe friends should be like Friends--a little bit on the predictable side.

FRIEND: And which friend would you be?
ME: I think I'd be Ross.
FRIEND: Is that the one that never gets laid?
ME: I'm pretty sure they all got laid a lot.
FRIEND: Oh then honey, you need to find another analogy.
ME: Thanks.
FRIEND: Just promise me no more f**king dinner parties. These long entries hurt my head after a night of drinking and illegal fireworks.
ME: Fireworks?
FRIEND: Don't ask. I'm trying to mysterious and unpredictable.
ME: You're kicking someone out of your bedroom as you're talking to me right now, aren't you?
FRIEND: It's like you've got a f**king crystal ball tucked in your closet behind the ugly shirts.

Good news: I think Christopher got the picture. A mere two days later he and Nick were broken up. I didn't ask for the details. I just wanted to be supportive.

Hey, you have to learn something from these social experiments, don't you?

Date #82: You're Gonna Be a Star, Kid

It's every gay boy's dream to have his life turned into an F/X TV series.

Often I watch Nip/Tuck and think--

I could totally be Christian's long-lost gay son.

But alas, some dreams just aren't meant to come true...

...or are they?

I had been set up on a date by my friend Elliot from New York. One of his friends from the city was going to be in Rhode Island, and they wanted someone to hang out with while they were in town.

Without any hesitation I offered to show the guy around my home state. Luckily now that the weather's a little bit warmer I have the beach option open to me.

The guy's name is Jeff.

BRIAN: A New York boy. How exciting.
ME: I know. I'm thinking of giving him a tour of the pumpkin patch.

Brian and I were doing lunch at the N.C. (Nordstrom's Cafe) while we discussed my date that night with Jeff.

BRIAN: Is he a native New Yorker?
ME: I don't know. I didn't ask.
BRIAN: Native New Yorkers are hot.
ME: Geography has nothing to with whether someone is hot or not.
BRIAN: Spoken by someone whose never been to Italy.
ME: Touche.

I called Elliot back to get the scoop on Jeff.

The Rundown:

- From L.A. originally
- Majoring in Business at N.Y.U.
- Total Entourage type
- Name Drops
- Sexy in a Cocky way

Hey, why not? Who doesn't love Drama?

I met Jeff downtown. I thought we'd walk around Providence a little before decided on a primary date location.

He was on his cell phone when I approached--stereotypical but true--however he did shut it of immediately upon seeing me.

JEFF: Hi, you must be Kevin.
ME: I must be.
JEFF: It's so great to meet you. I feel like I already know you.
ME: Wow, Elliot told you that much about me?
JEFF: Um, it's a little more...Why don't we walk and talk?
ME: Sounds good.

We started our trek around the city headed toward the mall. The night created the perfect atmosphere--an ideal mix of warm and comfortable.

JEFF: So the truth is, I know way more about you than you think.
ME: Okay.
JEFF: I'm actually...a fan of the blog.
ME: Ugh, I can't believe Elliot told you about the blog.
JEFF: He didn't. Well, not intentionally. He posted one of your entries on his facebook--
ME: Technology always kills my cover.

He laughed and we made our way past the new G-Tech building.

JEFF: I have to admit; I love it. It's funny, it's honest, it's--
ME: It's also against my policy to date guys who know about it.
JEFF: Why don't you think I kept my mouth shut when I asked Elliot if he had any Rhode Island friends?
ME: So did you even need to come to Rhode Island for--
JEFF: Aside from the fact that I wanted to hang out with you--No.

Kind of flattering, not gonna lie.

ME: You know you could have just asked Elliot for my phone number and told me what a genius I was over the phone.
JEFF: True, but I wanted to propose something to you in person.
ME: Oh yeah, like what? And don't say a three-way, I know you crazy New York boys and your ways.

We were now standing in front of the Cheesecake Factory.

JEFF: Actually, I was going to ask how you'd feel about being filmed. About having the blog filmed, I mean.
ME: Filmed?

Did he just say filmed?

We got a table at the C.F. and Jeff proceeded to lay out why he came here in the first place.

JEFF: My major is marketing, as I'm sure Elliot told you, but coming from L.A., I have a large interest in the film industry.
ME: Okay.
JEFF: Anyway, I've been trying for the past couple of years to finance a film project along with my buddy Marc.
ME: Like a movie?
JEFF: We hadn't really decided on what we wanted to do. We were going to wait until the right piece of work came along.

I have always been told that I'm a piece of work.

JEFF: We think the blog would be perfect.
ME: In terms of actually...doing it?
JEFF: You got it.
ME: But I'm not even finished with it yet.
JEFF: But you'll be done by your 23rd birthday in July right?
ME: Um...yeah.
JEFF: And we would start filming in August.
ME: This is just kind of...how are you going to fit my entire blog into one movie?
JEFF: Kevin, if they can fit a 600 page Harry Potter book into two and a half hours, we shouldn't have any problems with your blog.

This was crazy. I mean, was he really saying that he was going to film the blog? Like a movie? Like a tv show? Like Nip/Tuck and Flip This House?

Okay, maybe not like Flip This House.

ME: And what would happen once you filmed it?
JEFF: We would shop it around. That kind of thing.
ME: This is just a little unexpected.
JEFF: Look at it this way, worse comes to worse, you have a cinematic adaptation of your work. How many people can say that?

Yeah, how many people can say that?

JEFF: So what do you think?

I didn't know what to think. This was amazing, but was this guy even legit? What does 'shopping it around' mean? Who would play me in the movie?

I needed to talk to someone who knew about the blog and get an unbiased and sobering opinion.

SCOOTER: We're going to be in a moooovie...

Clearly the wrong choice.

SCOOTER: In a mooooovie--
ME: Scooter knock it off! I needed someone to give me the pros and cons about this.
SCOOTER: Man, I am going to get laid so much once this happens.
ME: It might not happen.
SCOOTER: Of course it's going to happen. Why would you say no to this?
ME: Because I don't even know this guy.
SCOOTER: But your friend knows him right?

I was already on that. Elliot said that Jeff and his friend Marc were actually considered to be an upcoming force to be reckoned with on the college film scene in New York. They had already done several smaller works that had been featured at different film festivals around the city. He said if they wanted to adapt the blog, I couldn't be in better hands.

SCOOTER: Cha ching!
ME: Now wait a minute, I'm not even done with this thing yet. How can they want to make a movie out of this when they don't even know the ending yet?
SCOOTER: Kevin, your blog is clearly a romantic comedy. It's going to end well.
ME: Tell that to the guy whose 18 dates away from finishing and still hasn't met anyone that can be considered soulmate material.
SCOOTER: Charlie, Andy, Turner--
ME: Okay, okay--
SCOOTER: --Me?
ME: Hahahahahahaha... Thanks I needed that.

Now that the "charade" date was out of the way, Jeff and I decided to have a full-on business date. We went to Paragon and I even wore my Adrian Grenier shirt--I don't think he noticed since the shirt doesn't do much in the way of making me look like Adrian Grenier (although I do look somewhat Aquaman-ish).

JEFF: So I talked to Marc, and we're prepared to get an agreement in writing.
ME: You don't think it's a little odd that you're paying for an imcomplete piece?
JEFF: Why? Should I be worried that after over 80 entries you're going to just stop randomly.
ME: No, but I just thought I'd be fair and ask.
JEFF: Thanks, but I'm all right with looking out for myself.

Now I was going to dig a little deeper.

ME: So what do you think you'd have to change to make the story...um..work for your purposes?
JEFF: That's actually something I wanted to discuss with you. The blog is great, and I love some of the recurring characters--Brian, Turner, Scooter--
ME: You mean my friends?
JEFF: Right. They're fantastic. I just don't think they work.
ME: Excuse me?
JEFF: The story isn't about a guy trying to make friends. It's about him--
ME: Me.
JEFF: You, right, you. It's about you looking for love.
ME: And, in looking for love, I happened to find some friends.

I could tell that this was something Jeff didn't like having to go over with me. He must have known it would be a sore spot.

ME: I just don't see how you can cut all those guys out.
JEFF: We do need to streamline, Kevin.
ME: Streamlining is one thing, but completely altering--
JEFF: It's just the way things happen.
ME: Well it's not going to be the way things happen to me.
JEFF: Look, you were the one who pointed out that it's incredibly hard to adapt something this large--
ME: And you gave me that Harry Potter speech. But in Harry Potter, you don't see them cutting out Ron and Hermoine!

This was getting a little more heated than I would have liked, but I was sticking to my guns. My friends are a big part of this blog, and I'm not going to let them just be evaporated--regardless of why or where they're being evaporated.

JEFF: This is small potatoes, Kevin. There are much bigger things you might want to think about.
ME: Like what?
JEFF: Like who you end up with once this is all over.
ME: I told you, I don't know if that'll happen. I might end up with just my now non-existent friends--not that that would be a totally bad thing.

Wow, did I just say if I end up alone it might not be a bad thing? Was that really me?

JEFF: Marc and I think it would be really terrific if there was a twist at the end.
ME: I'm sorry, but aren't you student filmmakers?
JEFF: Yeah, why?
ME: Because you sound like cliched studio types from MGM or something in the 30's.
JEFF: We just want to do justice to your work.
ME: My work is a just a blog about dating. It's not Gone with the Wind.
JEFF: Then why are you being so protective of it?
ME: Because it's my life.
JEFF: Can I at least tell you my idea?
ME: Sure.
JEFF: We want you to end up with Roque. You know, the crazy guy from Date--

And we're done.

I listened, but at the same time I wasn't listening at all. As great an opportunity as this was that I was about to pass up, I'm a theater guy--and I have a motto--

FRIEND: Don't f**k with the magic.
ME: Exactly.
FRIEND: And don't let some grubby little hoo-hah wannabe touch that blog. I already own the exclusive film rights and any sequels that might feature other characters, including and especially Friend.
ME: Sorry, I wasn't aware.
FRIEND: I'm talking to people who are talking to people. Things are being talked about.
ME: So you think I made the right choice?
FRIEND: You should have told that hack to f**k off--he might have appreciated it since he's such a fan. Other than that, you did fine.
ME: Thanks, Friend.

Of course, it still would have been nice to have become famous and one day hear Julian McMahon say:

Tell me what you don't like about yourself.

But for now, surprisingly, I'm all set.