Date #89: A Bulls**t Barbeque

Nobody appreciates a liar more than I do.

I have a degree in English with a focus on Creative Writing, so I truly do admire someone who can look you dead in the eyes and make up a story just for kicks.

I'm one of those rare people who believes that a little exaggeration is fine as long as it doesn't completely mutate a story. If it makes it more fun to tell and listen to, however, go right on ahead and elaborate.

I mean have you ever met someone who was completely direct and relayed everything to you verbatim? They're usually the ones who sit by themselves at a party and talk about their exciting career as a professional golf club salesman.

A lot of the questions I get asked about the blog relate to its accuracy--y'all know this since I've had to deal with it in previous entries, but as far as whether I tell the truth and dress it up a little...

Well...Yeah.

I just add a little bit of style to it. First and foremost, I'm into theater, and as Pinter says "Theater is life without the dull bits." So I cut out what isn't interesting and I make some witty observations (I hope they're witty anyway--I know sometimes it just comes across as me being a dick) and here and there I jazz up the dialogue a little bit, but the main points and the events remain intact.

I bring all this up so that when I tell you about Date #89, you'll understand why I didn't just blow up at this guy the minute I knew he was bullsh***ing me.

I'll admit...I like to play around sometimes.

The date took place at a party--not a dinner party, a barbeque.

Scooter decided to celebrate the beginning of summer with a little get-together at his house--and by little get-together, I mean eighty people, a pool, more drinks (drugged up twinks) and drinks (actual drinks) than Mardi Gras, and a clown...I'm not kidding, a clown.

BRIAN: I can't believe I fell for this.

Brian was the unfortunate sap who believed Scooter when he said the party was going to have a circus theme.

ME: Why would Scooter throw a circus party?
BRIAN: I don't know! He's Scooter! Who knows why he does what he does?
ME: Aw, you can cry if you want to. Everybody loves the tears of a clown.
BRIAN: Fuck off.

Scooter had invited myself, Brian, Turner, Dwight, Nick, and a few more of the notable blog boys. I even saw Paye walking around in a wet bathing suit--not a bad image, let me tell you.

ME: God, I forget how hot he is sometimes.
BRIAN: Aren't you on a date?

I was about to be. Scooter was using the barbeque to set me up with this guy Gerry. I was supposed to be introduced, but something told me I'd have to find him on my own. When I last saw Scooter he was in his kitchen giving tips on good oral using a small bottle of vanilla coke.

Wow, that sentence looks even more messed up in print than it was viewing it, and I didn't that was possible.

As for why the set up was even happening...

Well, Scooter's been really nervous lately--why I don't know--that I won't find my true love in the next twelve dates.

ME: What's the big deal? The blog isn't just about meeting Mr. Right...
SCOOTER: Um--
ME: Okay, maybe it is about meeting Mr. Right, but it's also about self-discovery and being okay with--
SCOOTER: Blabbity, blah blah--if you don't meet your prince by the time this is all over it will have been the most anti-climatic social experiment in history.
ME: No, I'm pretty sure that honor falls to I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!
SCOOTER: Not to mention how depressing it would be.
ME: It's not like I'm not trying.
SCOOTER: Let me handle this. I'm going to find the perfect guy for you. You might even get to end the blog early.
ME: Now, that would be anti-climatic, wouldn't it?
SCOOTER: No, then you could just spend the rest of the entries talking about all the hot sex you're having.
ME: Then it would be just like your blog, except with one guy instead of hordes.
SCOOTER: The word is 'herds.'
ME: They're interchangeable.
SCOOTER: Huh?
ME: Never mind. Save me a burger.

It actually didn't take too long to find Gerry--since he ended up finding me.

GERRY: Scooter's told me so much about you.
ME: Did any of it include notes about my personality?
GERRY: He mostly said you were 'cool.'
ME: That's it?
GERRY: He also talked about your stomach and how flat it is.
ME: Yup, that sounds like Scooter.
GERRY: No, he was being good...for him. Normally when he describes guys to me the only details I get are whether or not he's cut, his favorite position, and what foods he'll allow you to eat off his naked body.
ME: Well f.y.i, yes, lotus flower, and cheese doodles.
GERRY: He also said I should try and get you to tell me what--
ME: Ashton Kutcher, got it.
GERRY: No, but I am curious what the Topher Grace might be.

Aw, we're semi-bantering.

Things were going really well, but the more we talked, the more things started to take a turn towards the...well, here's an example:

RED FLAG #1: I was actually named after my great-great-grandfather Gerry who fought in World War II. He liberated a P.O.W. camp and that's how he met my grandmother. She was one of the few women to be captured as a P.O.W. because she was a spy trying to infiltrate the German regime.

Uh...okay.

RED FLAG #2: I love to salsa dance. I teach it, actually. I used to compete professionally but the whole sport just got really catty what with Dancing with the Stars and all. As soon as something hits the mainstream like that, it just taints everything about it.

Hmm...

RED FLAG #3: Just between you and me, I dated Shane from Road Rules. We really kept in on the downlow, because he's into some really freaky stuff in the bedroom and he didn't want a lot of it getting out. But he's a cool guy. We don't talk much anymore.

And SCENE!

TURNER: So you're saying he's Liar McDishonesty Pants?
BRIAN: Don't do the 'McPants' thing anymore. You don't do it right.
ME: Yeah, Turner, you're supposed to say things like Brian is an Ass McLoser Pants.

All the boys were in the pool where I headed to after excusing myself from Gerry for a bit. I needed some advice. Truth be told, I didn't mind listening to Gerry's stories--I just wondered if I should play along or call him out on it--and if so, when do I make that call?

DWIGHT: Make it now! The guy's a wackjob.
ME: Just because he likes to elaborate a little doesn't make him a wackjob, Dwight.
NICK: I'd say ask him if he's on Meds, but the psycho would probably just lie about it.
TURNER: Ask him if he's ever slept with John Travolta.
BRIAN: Huh?
TURNER: It might be funny to see what he says.
ME: Turner thinks along the same lines I do.
NICK: Along what lines are those?
ME: I'm thinking maybe I should have a little fun with him.
DWIGHT: You mean like give him enough rope to hang himself with?
ME: No, nothing mean like that. Just...I don't know. It's kind of like, anything goes. I can say whatever I want to this kid and he can't call me out on it because then I would have to call him out.
BRIAN: So you're saying you want to test out your improv skills?
ME: And I'd be willing to open up the game to all willing participants.
DWIGHT: Kevin, do you really think we'd--
BRIAN, TURNER, and NICK: I'm in!

The boys followed me back to where Gerry was sitting. Scooter had come over to talk to him and when they saw me approaching, Scooter looked like he could tell something was up. I pulled him a few feet away so I could talk with him.

SCOOTER: Something wrong with Gerry?
ME: You mean Gerry the salsa-dancing, Shane-from-Road-Rules dating guy whose grandmother was a WWII P.O.W.?
SCOOTER: Ohh...I forgot to tell you--he's a compulsive liar.
ME: And this is the guy that was going to stop the blog in its tracks?
SCOOTER: Hey, you're a theater guy--I thought you would appreciate his--
ME: His what? Theatricality? Is he going to crash land in a helicopter on our second date? Cue the falling chandelier? Or is he just going to tell me he flew a helicopter in Nam and that his uncle makes chandeliers for a living?
SCOOTER: That was quite a rant.
ME: I am never letting you fix me up on a date again.
SCOOTER: Does that mean you're not going to talk to him anymore?
ME: Of course not, I'm going to make the best of it like I always do.
SCOOTER: You're going to try and out-lie him?
ME: Yeah, me and the boys. You want in?
SCOOTER: Two words: 'Fuck' and 'yeah.'

Cut to all of us in the pool--myself, Gerry, and Scooter included--playing a game of 'Bullshit in the Water!'

...Okay, maybe not the best name for the game.

GERRY: So, how did you all meet?

Here we go...

ME: I actually met Brian when he and were in show choir together in high school.
GERRY: You two went to the same high school?
BRIAN: It was a high school strictly for gay teenagers.
GERRY: What was it called?
ME: Frederick Allan Gestault High School.
GERRY: Oh my God! My cousin Rich went there. It's a great school.

Brian looked at me in thinly veiled shock. I was thinking the same thing. This guy has balls.

ME: Turner and I met on a nude beach.
GERRY: Really?
ME: Yeah, it's a funny story. Tell it Turner.

Hey, why should I have to do all the work?

Luckily, Turner had his A-game on.

TURNER: My grandmother owned a house on the beach. She was one of those nudist pioneers. Anyway, I used to go visit her every summer--
GERRY: And your grandmother would walk around naked?
TURNER: Oh yeah. Hey, you've seen one naked octogenarian, you've seen them all, am I right?
GERRY: Um--
TURNER: Anyway, I was on the beach one day playing nude volleyball, when Kevin walked up and asked if he could join the game.
BRIAN: Tell him what you said when he asked that, Turner. This will have you stitches, Gerry.

God, we can be such bitches.

TURNER: I said--That depends. How are you at serving balls?

Oh Christ...

GERRY: You know, I met my first boyfriend on a nude beach.
ME: You did?
GERRY: Yeah, it was in Costa Rica back when I was working with the Peace Corp.

Na-who-what-what?

DWIGHT: Nick here is related to George Washington Carver.
ME: Really?
NICK: Yes, Dwight, really?
DWIGHT: Don't be modest, Nick.
ME: Dwight, I didn't think you wanted--

He gave me his "You boys are clearly drowning, and I'm your lifeboat" look.

DWIGHT: He has to go to all these functions--you know, George Washington Carver museum openings and stuff.
GERRY: There's more than one George Washington Carver museum?
BRIAN: Oh God, have you been to Idaho? They can't get enough of the guy.
TURNER: Actually, Kevin and I went to one of those openings together--
DWIGHT: And that's how the two of them met Nick and I.
NICK: Dwight was working with the affirmative action lobby.
DWIGHT: Nick and I were engaged at the time.
NICK: But the engagement got broken off because Dwight cheated on me with Scooter.
SCOOTER: What?
GERRY: Wow, and you guys still get along?
ME: They had a threeway and got over it.

Sadly, that's probably the most realistic-sounding lie any of us stated the entire time.

TURNER: Kevin and Brian used to date as well.
BRIAN: But then he got into sadomasochism.
ME: And Brian contracted the clap. Not that I wasn't supportive.
BRIAN: Who do you think I contracted it from?
NICK: I think it was you, Dwight, wasn't it?
DWIGHT: No, I gave hepatitis to Turner.
SCOOTER: I think I gave the clap to Brian.

Gerry was watching us like we were a tennis match. I was positive he was going to try and call us out on our blatant absurdities.

Instead we paused, he smiled, and then said--

GERRY: I had sex with Ryan Gosling once.

SON-OF-A-BITCH!

We all retreated to the kitchen for a pow wow while Gerry went over to talk to some of Scooter's other friends.

DWIGHT: What are we trying to do here exactly?
ME: I want him to call us out on our lies so we can call him out on his!
BRIAN: So we can have a big confrontation and have everything be awkward?
ME: Yes!
TURNER: I think it's kind of fun. Can I start talking with an accent?
DWIGHT: Why don't we tell him we used to be in a boy band?
NICK: Motherf**ker, what boy band would I have been in?
SCOOTER: Look, I've known Gerry for awhile. If you want to catch him in a lie, you have to actually catch him. Like publicly. Otherwise, he'll never back down.
ME: How are we supposed to do that?

Then it hit me.

ME: Scooter, how's your Shakira collection?
DWIGHT: You really think now is the time to listen to 'Underneath Your Clothes'?
ME: Dwight! Scooter?
SCOOTER: Hey, despite everything, I'm still a gay guy. I own everything that Latin goddess has done.
ME: Perfect. Gear up your stereo.

I went back outside and found Paye. I explained the situation to him and then went over to where Gerry was standing.

ME: Hey.
GERRY: Hey there. Having fun?
ME: I'm about to. How'd you like to show off some of those salsa skills?
GERRY: Uh--what do you mean?
ME: I thought we could liven the party up a little with some dancing.
GERRY: Um, all right. Sounds cool.

Paye and Turner were going to dance alongside us so that it would be clear we had no idea what we were doing.

TURNER: I don't get it though, Kevin. You're not exactly--
ME: I suck at dancing. I know. That's what's great about it. I won't be able to help him at all. He's going to have to lead.
PAYE: This should be interesting.
ME: Tell Scooter to cue the music.

Never really knew that you could dance like this...

Oh, how I wish I could describe what Gerry and I looked like trying to do a realistic salsa. With Paye leading Turner with grace and poise, it was like watching Apollo dance next to Jerry Springer.

You make a man want to speak Spanish...

I'm pretty sure at some point there was snapping, shaking, and I might have dropped it like it was hot on "Let me see you move like you come from Colombia."

Once the song was over, we got riotous applause. Most of the party didn't know that me and the boys had thrown down a challenge that Gerry just lost. He seemed to take it in good humor though.

GERRY: Guess you got me, Mr. Broccoli.
ME: You realize I might have liked you even if you weren't a salsa-dancing champion, right?
GERRY: Yeah, but isn't it so much more fun if I am?

It's hard to argue with that.

Gerry and I actually hung around long after most of the other guests had left. Scooter and everyone else eventually went into his living room to watch a movie while me and my date floated around in the pool.

ME: So tell me something true about yourself.
GERRY: Absolutely true?
ME: Absolutely true.
GERRY: Okay... I call too much.
ME: Huh?
GERRY: When I meet a guy I like, I tend to call too much. I know I do it. I know I shouldn't. It's a serious problem.
ME: Compared to other problems, it's not that bad.

So he's a bit of a bugaboo and a compulsive liar--nobody's perfect.

GERRY: Tell me something true about yourself.
ME: Okay.
GERRY: Wait--tell me something you know is true that other people know is true, but that everyone pretends isn't true.
ME: There's no way for me to have understood that.
GERRY: You know what I mean. What truth is unspoken in your life?
ME: Who talks like that? Are you the reincarnation of Elizabeth Barrett Browning?
GERRY: Don't be clever. Just answer the question.
ME: Answer the question, Claire?
GERRY: Yes.

He splashed a little water at me.

ME: Fine. Um, something that...okay.

And I don't know what possessed me but I said the first thing that came to my mind.

ME: I'm not...very attractive.
GERRY: Excuse me?
ME: I mean, I think I can be handsome at times, and occasionally I have moments of 'cute' but for the most part, I don't think I'm all that attractive.
GERRY: So you think you're ugly?
ME: No, I don't think I'm ugly. I think there are other things besides attractive and ugly.
GERRY: Explain.
ME: I think I look intelligent, reliable, nice--maybe, hopefully, a decent guy--but I know that when I walk in a room, I don't exactly turn heads.
GERRY: Boy, and I thought I was full of shit.
ME: I'm being serious!
GERRY: And you actually believe this?
ME: I just think it's the truth. I mean, I see how guys look at me. I'm the nice guy. Nice guys aren't hot.
GERRY: Who said you were nice?

I flipped his raft over. He came back up and tried to splash me again, but I grabbed him from behind and both of us started laughing.

GERRY: You are a nice guy, Kevin, but you're also quite attractive.
ME: Matter of perception.
GERRY: Exactly, it is. It's not a matter of truth.
ME: Why are we randomly having this discussion?
GERRY: Because this is what truthful discussions sound like.
ME: Worst thing you've ever done to someone who hurt you?
GERRY: Hurt them back, but worse.
ME: How?
GERRY: Slept with their best friend.
ME: Wow.
GERRY: Worst decision you've ever made?
ME: Yelled at someone when I should have talked to them.
GERRY: Good one.
ME: What do you want to do right now more than anything in the world?
GERRY: This--

He pulled me down underneath the water and he kissed me. And whether or not it was truthful, it was the most wonderful feeling I've felt in a long time.

FRIEND: Who the f**k plays Shakira at a barbeque? What is this 1997?
ME: It achieved its goal.
FRIEND: Why didn't you just throw on 'Whoop! There It Is'?
ME: We're saving that one for Pride.
FRIEND: So you like the fibber?
ME: I just sympathize with people who feel like they need to go to extreme means to be better than who they are.
FRIEND: Like people who create random social experiments to try and prove to themselves it's possible for them to find love?
ME: If that's a crack at Flava Flav, I won't stand for it.
FRIEND: Just tell me he gave you hydro-head.
ME: God, and the phrases keep being coined.

The day after the barbeque, I got a phone call from Scooter.

SCOOTER: You took off too soon, Mr. B.
ME: What are you talking about? The party was over. Gerry and I left together.
SCOOTER: Well had you stayed you would have seen the fireworks.
ME: Fireworks?
SCOOTER: We had us a hookup last night, and you'll never believe who the two people were.

And he was right...

I didn't believe him.