Previously on Loring Park: Jakey and Kevin went night swimming. Jakey has a crush on everyone.
***
I had not heard from Kevin since our night swimming in August, after which he had completed the grown-up life task of buying a house. Meanwhile, I am so broke and co-dependent that my mother set up an account for me at the local basement grocery store.
I did a show at the House of Comedy a few weeks ago, and was honored that so many of my friends showed up, as did my parents and brother. I worked 10-7 the following Saturday, so I mentioned a possible bingo excursion at Big Louie’s to my mother and my best friend Erin. We play bingo often on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and in my mind the invitation was casual and not definite. It’s bingo, not a birthday party.
That same week, Kevin randomly messaged me on Facebook asking if I wanted to hang out. Because I am twelve years old, I jumped at the chance. However, he has a grown-up schedule whereas I have a retail teenager schedule. Not sure what day would work, I decided to give him my entire itinerary, because I have game like that. We tentatively made plans for Saturday at 9. Perfect! I would finish my shift at 7, go home and get pretty, and then drive to his house in the suburbs. This would go off without a hitch!
“Are we still on for bingo on Saturday?” my mother asked on Thursday when I was at work.
“Wha--no,” I said. “I’m going to a boy’s house.”
“Oh, really?!” she scoffed. “You know, when I make plans with people, I keep them. I don’t just ditch them for some yay-hoo.” Yayhoo is a technical term.
Erin was no more sympathetic to my plight. “I would never ditch Robbie for you, and we’re getting married in less than a year!” she wrote in a text. “THAT IS WAY HARSH, TAI,” I wrote in all doocecaps. Still, I was in the midst of a moral dilemma. I did not realize our quasi-monthly bingo excursion was such an important social obligation, but my mother and best friend are the two most important women in my life. While I imagined this would be an argument that I would have a good thirty decades from now, I was in my mid-twenties and possibly having relationships ruined because of no-showing bingo. I was going to have to make an important decision.
I have had wonderful conversations with people from different spectrums about the two proposed amendments Minnesota votes on this Tuesday. I can only offer this: Voting "No" on Amendment 1 will not legalize gay marriage, or mandate that your 8-year-old will learn words in school like "homosexual", "queer" or "different". It will only imply that your lesbian neighbors will not get legally married without further evaluation/discussion of the topic, and that your gay friends, family members and colleagues will not feel explicitly ostracized . Voting "No" on Amendment 2 will not "protect" your vote from the myth perpetuated as "voter fraud". In reality, Voter ID laws are explicitly designed to prevent minorities, seniors, students and lower-income citizens from voting. And at the risk of sounding pedantic, you can vote No on both and *still* vote for Mitt Romney if you so choose, and God will not disown you. I promise.
There's a typo in the original post, but it has over 20 likes already, SO THERE. My new drunk fantasy now has nothing to do with sex or Channing Tatum or a combination thereof. Instead, it is brunch mimosas with Rachel Maddow and Steve Kornacki.
Previously on Loring Park:
Jared and Jakey encountered a frightening bar patron. Joey returned to Minneapolis. Jakey has a crush on everyone.
Halloween was looming! The week before, Chuck and I ran errands so that I could buy my costume and feel like a grown-up. I had left my car at LUSH the night before, and we had to reflect on the previous night because I am in ninth grade.
“The twinky bartender is so nice,” I declared. “Usually I’m threatened when they’re smaller and prettier than me, but he’s genuine and not bitchy. He even said he hoped I would come sing karaoke!”
“I hugged Star Quarterback,” Chuck boasted. “I wished you would have seen it.”
“I don’t know if I like him anymore,” I said.
“What?!” Chuck asked, and his face fell. “That’s the only reason why I did it.”
“It’s so stupid,” I whined. “It’s not even him! It turned into this whole manifestation of my insecurities, and now he’s this entity that goes beyond him as a person.” It should be noted that we were shopping for my Halloween costume, and I was ironically going to be a star quarterback. I had the jersey custom made.
Yes, I know that the quarterback doesn’t wear #69, but I was going to gay bars and therefore I did not think that anybody would be calling me out on my lack of football knowledge. Plus, back when I did a radio show, I totally talked to Chris Kluwe for five seconds, and that was before he became a heterosexual gay icon.
