Blackouts and Breakdowns (8 page)

“I fucking hate The
Guiding Light
!” I said.
“It’s got nothing on my ABC soaps, let me tell you.”

“Yes,” the lesbian said, “you are right, I have been watching ABC soaps forever, but I got this job and I have to take it.
After I started working on
Guiding Light
I starting watching the show and it’s really not that bad.”

“Whatever dude, they cloned a character,” I said. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Didn’t they go “back in time” on
One Life to Live
?” the lesbian asked.

“Twice,” I said.
“They went back in time twice, but that’s beside the point.”

“Ok,” she said. As we continued talking, the lesbian’s friend came over and introduced himself.

“I’m Michael,” he said.

“I’m Mark,” I said as I noticed his incredible good looks.
His hair was long and shiny and he was perfect.
Maybe lesbians aren’t useless after all.
The lesbian, whose name I cannot remember because, she was a lesbian and I had no use for her, told me that her friend Michael was straight.

“Straight?”
I asked after Michael went to the bathroom.
“How is he straight?
Look at his hair.
He takes such good care of it.
It’s like a Shetland pony – it looks like…manicured.
Hair like that takes hours to manage.
No straight man has ever had hair like that.
There is absolutely no way that guy is straight.”

“That’s what he claims,” the lesbian said, “but I have always had my suspicions.”

The lesbian quickly told me about an incident when she was at a party with Michael and he wandered off for hours.
When he later resurfaced his perfectly manicured hair was amiss and her other friend Ramon mysteriously went missing.

“Interesting,” I said as I sipped my drink.
Since it was gay pride and there were literally no gay guys at this event, I thought I needed do some digging.
Once Michael came back from the bathroom, I began flirting.
Michael was an avid theatre lover and an actor (gay) and so we chatted about the latest theatre gossip.

“
The Drowsy Chaperone
was totally robbed for the Tony!” Michael exclaimed, “
Jersey Boys
was inferior to that masterpiece.”

It was quite possibly the gayest conversation I had ever had, but I continued on.
As the party began to wind down, I could tell that Michael was a bit tipsy.
The lesbian, who was two sheets to the wind, came over and drunkenly told Michael that he should make out with me. Michael swayed back and forth pondering what to do next and before he knew it, I grabbed his shirt collar and stuck my tongue down his throat.
We made out in front of everyone at the party but Michael pulled away and laughed it off.
I could tell he was totally embarrassed by what had happened and blushed.
I excused myself to go the bathroom to freshen up before I left and quickly noticed that I was being followed.
Michael was right behind me and followed me in to a stall and we began making out passionately.
What is it with gay guys making out in public restrooms?
For a group of people that pride themselves on cleanliness they sure do find disgusting places to fornicate.
We made out for a while and I invited Michael back to my place.
We had sex that night and began an illicit affair that lasted the entire summer.
I ended it when Michael decided that he wanted to go back and give girls another try. It didn’t work and he is happily an out and proud homosexual prowling the streets of New York City.

You see, all you need is the right amount of alcohol; a dash of curiosity and a hell of a lot of willpower and you too can make that seemingly curious hetero your next sexual conquest.

BOILING POINT

“I am never going to get laid again!” I said as I banged my head against the dinner table. “Never! Never! Never!”

“Chill out, Mark,” Tom said. Tom and his boyfriend Michael had just gotten back from a whirlwind summer in Provincetown while I ran their company for the summer.

“Tom, I have been working like a Mexican busboy all summer long, and haven’t had time to meet anyone,” I said.
“I haven’t gotten laid in like six months.
This is pathetic.”

“I know,” Michael chimed in.
“Why don’t we set him up with James?”

“Who the fuck is James?” Tom asked.

“You know,” Michael said, “
James
”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “Oh yea, James!”

“James? Who is James? Will I like him?” I asked, clamoring for anyone to pay the slightest bit of attention to me.

“James is this fabulous guy we met in Provincetown this summer. I think you will really like him,” Michael said as he smiled at Tom.

“What does he look like?” I asked.

“You know,” Michael said, “he’s cute.”

“Ok, what does he do for a living?” I asked.

“You know, I don’t remember, but he’s really successful.”

“Ok, well, when can I meet him?”

“I will have to find out.
He is really busy, but I will let you know by the end of the week.”

I was so excited about my potential date that I had to call someone.

“Hey, Mom,” I said into my cell, “Tom and Michael have this fabulous friend that they are really pumped for me to meet.
He may be the one!”

The week passed and Michael called me and told me that James wanted to meet me at a bar on Bleeker Street called Alibi.
I have never heard of such a place but went there in hopes I was meeting my future baby’s daddy.
I was really looking forward to this blind date.
I had never been on a blind date before and thought that it may be a good way to at least hook up.
Tom and Michael were two of my best friends so surely they would know who a good match for me would be.
Perhaps this James fellow was the one.

I got to Alibi a few moments early and stood outside of the bar and smoked two cigarettes and read the latest Soap Opera Digest.
It is a ritual of mine every Wednesday to pick up the new Digest after work and read it cover to cover.
It’s Mark time.
Time for me to relax and catch up with the week’s events.
I hoped that James liked soaps.
If not, he would have to be dumped immediately.
Suddenly I remembered a few years earlier when my first boyfriend told me that I needed to stop watching my shows because it was ruining our relationship.
I told him that I had watched my stories twenty years before he came along and that I would be watching them for the next twenty so he needed to get used to it. Clearly, that didn’t work, as I was now going on a blind date so obviously I was going to have to take a new approach to the dating scene.
I glanced down at my watch and saw that it was almost time for James to meet me, so I ducked into the bar and sat on a bar stool.
I waited for a few more minutes until the person I assumed was James came into the bar.
A twenty-something with a red Jew-Fro, a beer belly and a touch of the Downs sashayed his way into the bar, looking disheveled and out of breath.

“You Mark?” James asked me as he threw the twenty bags he had carried into the bar down onto the floor.

Could I fake my own death and get out of this blind date or did I have to move forward with this?

“Maybe,” I replied.

“Good,” James said as he stuck his hand out to meet mine.
I shook his hand and could feel the sweat dripping from it.
What in the hell were Tom and Michael thinking setting me up with this guy?
I know it had been a slow summer, but surely they thought I had better taste than this.
Having remembered to never judge a book by its cover, I decided to have a few drinks with him.
If nothing else, I could get a good buzz and possibly a nice conversation out of it.
The bartender walked over to greet us.

“Hi. Can I get you a –.”

“Cosmopolitan,” I said, cutting her off.

“Hmmm,” James said. “Do you have cran-apple juice?”

I looked at him as if he had just asked for a Big Mac at a steakhouse.

“Excuse me?” the bartender said.

“Do you have cran-apple juice?” James asked again.

“Ummm…no,” the bartender said. “We have cranberry juice if you’d like that.”

James threw his hands up in the air in disgust.

“What are you four years old?
Who the hell even drinks cran-apple juice?
Why don’t you just get a drink drink?” I asked.

“I don’t drink,” he replied.
Well, that was Strike One as far as I was concerned.
I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink.
Actually, it was more like Strike Three if I counted his offensive looks and the awful way he was treating the bartender.
“I’ll just have water.”

The bartender walked away and made my Cosmo and got James his water.
I decided to move forward and try to be nice to the awful man that sat before me.
Perhaps I had not gotten laid in six months because of my own terrible attitude.
Maybe if I tried being nice to this monster, it would pay off for me in the long run.

“So, what do you do?” I asked.

James sighed, “I work in IT and I hate it.
Everyone there is so obnoxious.
I don’t know how I deal with it on a daily basis.
They are always complaining about everything and I am the only one there with a personality.”

“
Really?
” I asked in surprise.

“Yes,” James replied.
“What I really want to do is move into customer service.
I think I am a people person.
Don’t you?”

I thought he was joking, but wasn’t sure so I just didn’t answer.

“What do you do?”
James asked.

“Oh, I work for Tom and Michael.”

“Who?”

The bartender came back with our drinks.
She sat the cosmopolitan I ordered in front of me and I grasped it.
I put it to my lips and chugged as much as I could without looking like a complete alcoholic.
When the bartender walked away, James pulled me close to him and whispered in me ear: “Let’s get her fired.”

“What?” I said as I pulled away from him, “why would we do that?”

“Because she was giving me attitude.”

“Dude, you ordered a cran-apple juice.
This is a bar, not the elementary school cafeteria.
I would have given you attitude if you asked me for that.”

“Whatever, I think she was being rude.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.
I excused myself for a second and walked outside to smoke a quick cigarette and call Tom.
Had Tom and Michael gone completely insane? Certainly James and I were not a good fit.
How could we be?
He was a total mess.
I picked up my cell and dialed Tom’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Damn it Tom!” I yelled into his voicemail box. “What the hell is wrong with you?
Is this some sort of joke?
I cannot believe that you set me up with this reject.
I am going to
kill you!
” I dragged the remains of my cigarette and walked back into the bar.
I sat down next to James and he looked at me as if I had just told him he had cancer and was going to die by the end of our meeting.

“Those people,” James said as he glanced behind him and gestured to the people sitting at the table against the wall.
“Those people were eavesdropping on our conversation.”

“What conversation? I just stepped outside,” I replied.

“Before you left, I mean,” he replied.

“I don’t think so, and who cares anyway? We weren’t talking about anything important.”

“Excuse me!” James said as he got up from his stool and walked toward the couple sitting at the table against the wall. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“What are you talking about?” the woman said.

“You were eavesdropping on our conversation,” James said.

“No, we weren’t,” the woman, replied.

“Yes, you were.
I don’t appreciate it either.
My friend and I were having a private conversation and I would really like it if you didn’t listen in.”

I sat on my bar stool and was more embarrassed than I had even been in my life. Between the juice and blowing up at the bartender and the patrons of the bar, I was beginning to question just how desperate I really was.
Why had I sat through this nightmare of a date for as long as I had? I got up from my barstool and grabbed James.

“James,” I said trying my best to look sick, “I am really not feeling well all of the sudden. I need to go.”

“Why?” he asked, “I thought we were having a really nice time.”

“Well…” I said, “It’s just suddenly, I feel ill.” I was going to be sick if I have to continue on with this date.

“Please stay,” he said.

I felt bad for the guy. He was just so utterly clueless.

“I am sorry,” I said, “but I really need to go…now.”

“Please stay,” he asked again.

I gestured toward the bartender to come over so I could pay my check and get the hell out of there as soon as possible, but she was ignoring me.
Perhaps we should have gotten her fired after all.
James continued begging me to stay until I finally slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, clutched the martini glass and knocked the remains of my cosmopolitan into my mouth.
I slammed the martini glass down on the bar and turned around to leave.

As I was walking out the door, James asked me again, “Mark, are you sure you want to leave?”

“YES!” I yelled.

“Well, that’s a shame,” James said. “Because if you had stayed for four more minutes, you would have won one-hundred dollars, because you are on MTV’s hidden camera-show ‘Boiling Points.’”

I turned around and began laughing so hard I could not control myself. Suddenly, Tom and Michael as well as two cameramen appeared out of nowhere.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me with this right now,” I said.

“We got you!” Tom said as he laughed.

“Oh My God!” I said. I was so shocked.

“We watched the whole thing from behind the bar!” Michael said, “You were hilarious!”

“You’re such a moron,” Tom said, “but you look damn good on TV.”

“You fuckers got me!” I said.

Apparently, when Michael had been bored a few weeks ago, he went on craigslist looking for something though I am not sure what.
He came across an ad MTV had put out that said “Trick Your Friend and Make Money Doing It.”

“I knew you were desperate enough to fall for it!” Michael said.

“Thanks,” I replied.

James came over to me and apologized for being such an asshole.
He told me that he was an actor and that his real name wasn’t James, but Peter and that he had been doing the show for over a year.
Suddenly, James/Peter became attractive to me.
When he wasn’t acting like a complete mess, he was kind of a gentleman, but, alas, he had a boyfriend.
I figured I might as well ask since I did not win a hundred dollars and still hadn’t gotten laid. James/Peter made me sign a consent form so that MTV could air it on television.
I gladly signed it; after all, they really had gotten me.

As we were leaving the bar, my mother called, most likely to see how the date was going.

“So?” my mother said into the phone.

I replied: “Have I got a story for you…”