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.