Date #93: Ghetto Superstar

Now that I'm getting closer to Date #100, it seems people are a little more interested in going out with me.

BRIAN: I'm going to be Date #100, right?

Brian popped the semi-question at the N.C. and seemed shocked at how shocked I was that one of my best friends suddenly has an interest in going out on a date with me.

ME: You want to go out on a date with me?
BRIAN: Oh, it won't be like a real date. It'll be celebratory of your completing the blog.
ME: So it'll be like a 'Hey, clearly I failed at finding someone since I'm on a date with someone who isn't even remotely attracted to me' kind of a date?
BRIAN: Kevin, you're on what now? Ninety-one--
ME: Ninety-two.
BRIAN: Clearly, you need to find a way to bring this to a close without the closing being about finding the perfect guy.
ME: Brian, I believe that life is like television. In television, some things don't even get cleared up until the very last episode. So I am going to use every single date to its fullest.
BRIAN: But I want to be Date #100!
ME: Well unfortunately the most you could have looked forward to was a ceremonial date somewhere in the 70's, but that time has come and gone.

Brian looked a little perturbed at first, and then opened up his Murse and took out a small packet of papers.

BRIAN: Then you might want to make use of these.

He dropped them in front of me. They looked like printed out e-mails.

BRIAN: They're printed out e-mails.

Well, there you go.

ME: From who?
BRIAN: People who have found me on myspace and facebook and would like to try their luck at the newest reality show about to be off the air--Find Kevin a Boyfriend.
ME: There must be thirty e-mails here.
BRIAN: I printed out a few of them just to be funny, but then they kept coming in, and I was low on paper.
ME: This is insane. Where are all these people coming from? I've been doing the blog all year.
BRIAN: It seems many of them find you sweet, funny, and honest--Don't ask me where they get that from. I think some of them may have you confused with another spinster blogger.

I can't believe it. Eight dates left and all of a sudden people are coming out of the woodwork. Unless...

ME: Do you think these people actually think they'd be a good match for me, or do they just want the honor of closing out the blog?
BRIAN: From reading most of those, I'd say it's about sixty-forty in favor of closing out the blog, but forty percent of all that isn't bad.

He's got a good point. Then hey, why not have a little fun?

ME: Okay, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go through all of these, and randomly pick one of the guys who legitimately wants to go on a date with me, just to see what happens.
BRIAN: Shouldn't you be picking with a little more--
ME: A little more what? I've done everything I can think of to try and find someone who'd be a good match for me, and so far, I'm still single. So why not just throw a prayer up in the air and see if I get an answer.
BRIAN: A prayer up in the air? Are you an alcoholic now?
ME: Not yet, but talk to me in about six more dates.

I gathered some friends together for a "Pick Kevin's Date" party. Dwight, Scooter, and Turner came armed with liquor (for them) and tortilla chips (for me).

DWIGHT: I like this guy. Please tell Kevin that I jerk off to his blog. Thinking about Scooter just--
SCOOTER: Hey, can I have that one?
TURNER: Sadly, over four of these so far have been love letters to Scooter, and I've only read seven.
ME: Terrific. I've managed to spend a year of my life finding a boyfriend for Scooter.
SCOOTER: Can we stop talking about Scooter like he's not in the room? Thank you.
DWIGHT: Here's one for you, Kev. You seem like a really sweet guy. I think we could have a great connection. I'd love to take you out on a date. Signed, Billy.
ME: He sounds nice.
SCOOTER: He sounds ugly.
TURNER: Scooter!
SCOOTER: Hot guys don't talk like that.
ME: Don't be ridiculous.
SCOOTER: I don't talk like that.
ME: All the more reason to look into it.
SCOOTER: I know a loser when I hear one.
ME: He doesn't sound like a loser at all.
DWIGHT: Sorry, but I kind of held back on that one. P.S. I named my new pug after you. He's called Mr. B.

Let's pause for a second.

ME: Moving on!

I had Brian forward me the rest of his e-mails so we had a good amount to choose from, plus the ones Scooter got on his blog, and the ones I've gotten over the past few months.

Finally, I came upon one that I really liked.

ME: Guys, this one sounds nice. Hey Kevin, I'm just a regular guy looking for another regular guy. I wish I could say I'm expecting wonders, but I've always been a bit on the cynical side and your blog has shown me that the pickings out there are slim to say the least. That being said, you've also given me hope, because if there's cool guys like you out there, then maybe there's hope for all of us. If you ever want to get coffee or something, just e-mail me back or call me. My number is...
TURNER: Sounds decent.
DWIGHT: Sounds normal.
SCOOTER: I like his sentence structure.

We all looked at him.

SCOOTER: What I do?

I contemplated writing down the guy's e-mail address under the headline "(Not So) Random Pick."

ME: He's definitely legitimate. Doesn't sound like he's in it for the date number.
DWIGHT: Speaking of which, why aren't I Date #100?
SCOOTER: I was going to ask the same thing.
ME: Are you two serious? What is with everyone wanting to be Date #100? It's not like you get a prize at the end of it.
DWIGHT: I just think it would be cool, that's all.
SCOOTER: Besides, don't you want to get laid once you hit 100?
TURNER: Scooter, knock it off.
ME: Thank you, Turner.
TURNER: So I'm Date #100, right?

I called my mystery date (Anthony) after all the boys left that night.

ANTHONY: Yo, sup?
ME: Um...is this Anthony?
ANTHONY: Who wants to know?
ME: Uh...this is Kevin...from the blog.
ANTHONY: Shut the f**k up.
ME: I would but, I was going to ask you if you wanted to hang out sometime.
ANTHONY: Are you for real?
ME: Oh, I'm...mad for real.
ANTHONY: No shit! What's good, man?

Did I just say 'mad for real'?

ANTHONY: Cool, cool. Where you wanna go?

We made tentative plans, but as soon as I got off the phone I went back to his e-mail to see if I could spot whether or not I'd just agreed to go out with someone straight out of Compton.

NICK: You're going out on a date with a wannabe?
ME: Of course I am.

Nick had agreed to hang out with me at Starbucks before the date after some discoveries I made on myspace about Anthony.

Anthony is 25 from North Attleboro, Mass. All of his myspace photos show him in a wifebeater and a backwards baseball cap--wait, sorry, that's not true. One of his photos shows him with the cap turned forwards--maybe to spice things up.

His tagline is "If You Ain't Busy Living..." Then you're busy being gay? Loving Judy? What are you busy doing when you're from NORTH ATTLEBORO?

NICK: Not busy dying, that's for damn sure.
ME: Unless you're dying of boredom.
NICK: Don't hate the North Attleboro...uh...ites.
ME: I'm not, it's just...This guy seemed so normal.
NICK: Maybe he is. Give him a chance.
ME: That chance went out the window with 'What's good?'
NICK: So why not just call it off? I'll give you a ride back home.
ME: Because I've never dated someone with...that type of personality. And I don't know, it might be interesting.
NICK: Kevin, you dated me.
ME: Yeah, but you don't do that whole--
NICK: That whole what? The poser 'black' thing?
ME: No, you just don't say 'What's good?'
NICK: If I ever say 'What's good?' admit me somewhere with beige walls.

Nick took off and Anthony showed up about ten minutes later. He had on a turtleneck, and for a second I thought maybe I had misjudged him.

Then he spoke.

ANTHONY: How's your boy, baby?
ME: Um, I don't have a--
ANTHONY: It's cool, it's cool.

The thing is, I'm pretty sure he wasn't even using the right terminology. I might have to call Ludacris and check up on him.

ME: So, do you want to eat dinner or--
ANTHONY: Nah, we got a party to go to.
ME: A party, huh? Whose party?
ANTHONY: A boy of mine's. Southside. Let's bounce.

Oh Christ...

I thought by southside he meant the south side of Providence, but apparently he meant South County, because we ended up by the beach at a party full of not-so-pretty-fly white guys.

ANTHONY: Ah shit.
ME: What is it? Is there an actual black person here?
ANTHONY: Huh?
ME: Never mind.
ANTHONY: This guy who stole my last boyfriend is here.
ME: Is there like a whole white ghetto gay underground that I don't know about?
ANTHONY: We might have to tussle, just so you know.
ME: You tussle. I'm going to find some potato salad.

I went inside to try and get ahold of one of my friends to let them know I was in Little Compton, not the famous one--when the phone rang.

ME: Hello?
JESSE: Hey hot stuff, what are you up to?
ME: I'm making a shank.
JESSE: I'm sorry?

I was crouched in the corner of this lovely kitchen when two boys walked in.

BOY #1: Yo, you Tony's bitch for the night?
ME: Um, I'm his date, yes.
BOY #1: You should get with a real man. Someone who can service that ass.
ME: Oh, don't worry. I just changed the oil last week.
JESSE: Kevin?
BOY #1: I'll be around if you change your mind.
BOY #2: Yeah, we'll both be around.

Then they high-fived and left.

JESSE: You there?
ME: I think I'm in a parallel universe.
JESSE: You're in Connecticut?
ME: Pretty much. Want to come rescue me?
JESSE: Sure, just give me directions.

Luckily, I had a good enough idea of where we were, and when it got too specific I asked one of the girls hanging out by the refrigerator to help out.

Anthony appeared shortly after I got off the phone with Jesse.

ME: Hey Anthony, I think I'm going to leave soon.
ANTHONY: You bouncing already?
ME: Yeah, I think I've got...something...stomach bug, or...whatever.
ANTHONY: That sucks, man. Hey, is this because Reg has been hitting on you? Cause he told me he's been giving you a hard time. I need to knock that bitch's lights out.
ME: Oh, don't do that on account of me.

Just then, Reg walked in.

REG: You talkin' shit, Tony?
ANTHONY: F**k yeah, I'm talking s**t. Stay the f**k away from my boy, Reg.
REG: Why? You afraid he's going to leave you for a real man?

Okay, anyone want to tell me when I stepped into a John Singleton film and why I'm playing the role of a white Nia Long?

Anthony picked up a bowl of chips and flung it at Reg. Reg ducked and came at Anthony. I was going to get between the two of them but on the off-chance either one had a butter knife in their pocket I didn't feel like getting cut. I ran out of the house and up the road until Jesse called me to tell me he was nearby. On the way back to Providence, I filled him in on the situation.

JESSE: Wow, you were almost killed...except not at all.
ME: Hey, things were getting crazy.
JESSE: Yeah, Lays were being thrown. That shit is crazy.
ME: All right, I get the point.

I was in a bad mood. All this dating, and I was still going on trainwrecks like that. I think Jesse picked up on my sulking.

JESSE: Want to play a fun game?
ME: Does it involve assisted suicide?
JESSE: No.
ME: Ben and Jerry's?
JESSE: Later, but not in the game.
ME: Tell me about it anyway.

JESSE'S EXPLANATION OF CAR KARAOKE: You pull up next to someone and blair a song out of your radio. The goal is to get the person in the car next to you to sing along to the song instead of just looking at you like you're crazy. You're not allowed to pick your song. That honor goes to someone else in the car.

JESSE: You can pick a song for me. I got my IPOD right there.

I went into the album marked "Embarrassing" and found the perfect song.

I'm going to make a change
For once in my life

JESSE: You did not just pick 'Man in the Mirror.'
ME: Hey, it was on your IPOD.
JESSE: Fine. Watch how it's done.

He pulled up to a car that had a twenty-something couple in it. The boy looked rather sullen but the girl was laughing about something. Jesse rolled the windows in the car down and pumped the volume up as loud as it would go.

The guy looked mad, but the girl just laughed, and after a second she was bouncing around and singing along with Jesse...

I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways

JESSE: Points for me. Your turn.
ME: Be gentle. I've had a rough night.
JESSE: Fine.
ME: And no Vanilla Ice.

A minute later we pulled up to a car full of what looked like teenage girls on their way to the club. I sang at the top of my lungs.

Hey, go big or go home, right?

Pour some sugar on me!
In the name of love
Pour some sugar on me!

Those girls had a four-part harmony by the time the light turned green.

Jesse and I laughed all the way back to my place. Before I got out of the car, I gave him a big hug.

ME: Thank you so much for coming to get me.
JESSE: Anytime.

We looked at each other for a second longer than we should have, but by then we were already kissing. I tried to forget that this was semi-Romeo/Juliet since he was still Allan's roommate, but another part of me only cared about kissing him...Okay, almost all of me only cared about kissing him.

FRIEND: Giggity giggity.
ME: It stopped with kissing.
FRIEND: Of course it did, because you don't value ratings.
ME: Because I value a potential connection with someone.
FRIEND: So you think this could be the one?
ME: He's at least 'a' one, which is fine with me.
FRIEND: Oooh, and we could have some sparks with the hoo hah.
ME: You mean Allan?
FRIEND: Yeah, that queen.
ME: There might be more sparks than that actually...

Just as I was about to head to bed, my phone rang. I thought it was Jesse being cute and calling to say he'd gotten home okay and such.

But that would be too easy.

CHARLIE: Hey, it's Charlie.
ME: Hey.
CHARLIE: Um, do you feel like coming over?

Well, this was bound to happen.