Loring Park Episode #41: When It Rains, It Pours

It has been raining so much this month! Rumor has it that it'll rain all through Pride weekend, which will make all the religious people feel validated. One morning I was walking the two blocks to my car and I got so wet that I had to buy new pants when I went to work. They were red cords for only $7 because I got them from the boys' department.

I moved in with Jared. I haven't had a roommate since the year I moved out of the dude house and lived with my uncle Ander. I was probably very spoiled living with Ander, because Ander was a dream roommate. He's a Virgo, so he cleaned all the time and only pestered me about taking out my own garbage. He traveled a lot for work, never deleted my shows on the DVR until after I had watched them, and we had a two-bathroom. The only drawback of living there was that we were in St. Anthony, and I didn't become a bar star until my Loring Park days. However, I could no longer afford a studio in Loring Park (the rise of luxury buildings meaning the rent for the poor folks is going way up, too), so a two-bedroom was a salient option.

I joke that we are married. We have already gotten in fights at Target. He is organized. I am more financially responsible (which is faint, faint praise). We know each other's bowel movements. He has Netflix.

I think it will be okay and I just have to find a cute boy to teach me how to parallel park. I have had many friends offer to teach me, but I am 13 years old and therefore I want it to be a cute boy. Y'know how I never got my driver's license when I was 23? When I was 23, my mom hired a hunky driving instructor named Dan Ryan, but I never learned anything because I was too busy looking at Dan Ryan the whole time.

I am currently parked on Oak Grove Street and it is Pride weekend so I cannot go anywhere until Monday morning.

***

Writing for LOLOMGBlog.com has been such an unexpected blessing. My editors have been so patient with me as I know as much about WordPress as I do about arithmetic (a typical e-mail: "Great article, Jakey! But the pictures need to be this many pixels and that many pixels and you have to cut and paste this and click this button and then click that button and spin around three times"). The really fun thing is that I can suggest things to write about if I'm already going to them, so I jumped at the chance to write about seeing Kathy Griffin at Mystic Lake Casino.

She was nothing short of amazing. She went for two hours. Meanwhile, I did five minutes at House of Comedy on Tuesday and they weren't even all that good.

***

There are still shenanigans at The Saloon, a place I should have been avoiding before Pride. First of all, I left my phone there, and when I came back it was dead, and they wouldn't release it to me until I could prove it was mine, so Joey and Jared had to bring my charger over there while I was still getting ready. My mature self appreciated their integrity and security, but my immature self was like, God DAMN, Saloon! I could buy a house with all the money I have spent here.

I ran into Cordero out of nowhere one night. "It's good to see you, shrimp," he said, and he ate my face. I didn't want to be that slutty person making out at the bar, and I also know that I have about two good years' left of fuckability, tops.

The problem with nightlife -- and I don't know if it's unique to gay bars or not -- is that alcohol brings out the douchiness in people. My father always told me that when somebody tells you something and they are intoxicated, believe them. Unless you are talking to me, because I am never one to gossip or tell tales out of school.

Jared and I were preparing to leave one night, and Chuck was going to drive us home (Chuck often does so, and I don't thank him enough). Someone -- who wasn't necessarily thin or ripped -- called Jared fat. Jared popped off, to the point that I thought he was going to get arrested. "Okay, we're done," I said, and I speed-walked across the street, thinking he was going to be behind me.

He wasn't, so I turned around to go get him. And then he thought, in his 2:45 A.M. wisdom, to go back to the guy and start shit.

Children, I WENT CRAZY. While Jared later told me he wasn't going to punch the guy, I had no way of knowing that. "WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!" I cried, and I ripped my shirt off, in hopes that my horrendously pale skin would ware off any other offenders. It's hard out here for a Cancerian when people don't listen to him.

A week later, we were on the patio when a drunk man came up to us. I have met him before and he seemed very sad. On this evening, he seemed just to be mean and kept telling me that my skin was oily.

I wasn't even mad. "My Norwegian skin is not oily," I said. "It's dry and pale. You need to learn how to read."
"Um, I have a Ph.D," he slurred. "What did you get your degree in?"
"I don't have one," I said (which is a whole different blog entry). "I don't mean that kind of reading."

It didn't even upset me because there's so much that he could have read me for -- my thinning hair (hi, Ricky), my paleness, my anorexic yet hoggish body, et cetera et cetera. It made me sad, really. If you're going to be a mean drunk, stay home or drink club soda.

He used to work for WCCO for two seconds so he thought he was hot shit. Meanwhile, my favorite tall weatherman Jerrid Sebesta of KARE 11 is leaving town! He read my Tweet on the air once. When the wind blows, I will hear his name.

Leave the memories alone, Jerrid.

***

Jared and I went to The Saloon on the Wednesday that Cher was in town and pretended we had gone to the concert. I ran into Football Guy! Football Guy lives here now. He is my Minneapolis version of a celebrity crush because I had a big crush on him first, but now everybody does. I cannot blame anyone who has two eyes and a heart, to paraphrase Jack Donaghy.

"Football Guy!" I cried. "I'm not wearing make-up and I wish I would have gone to Cher but I didn't and ----"
Football Guy cut me off by imitating a loud siren and I couldn't tell if I was offended or turned on. It was the only interaction I had with him that evening, because he spent most of the night with a douchey sidekick who spent the whole time bragging about how many Instagram followers he had. I can not.

Celebrity was there and everyone was looking and I felt awkward and then O-Town's "Liquid Dreams" came on and I started screaming because I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, ASHLEY PARKER ANGEL.

I lied to T.J. and told him that Football Guy was my boyfriend.
"Really?!" T.J. asked.
"No," I pouted.
"He's huge," T.J. said. "He would crush you."
"That's kind of the point," I said.

T.J. and I were going to go to the movies but he keeps going out of town for weddings.
"How many weddings has he gone to?" Jared asked.
"He comes from a big family," I said.
"He's from Wisconsin," said Jared. "I'm sure there's nothing to do but hump!"
I may have put this joke in last week. I don't care. I like it that much.

***

***

I was on Facebook and found out from Kevin's mom via a Jesus meme she posted that Kevin has gone to Florida.

Florida is a euphemism now, because not even I am that much of an asshole.

Feelings are dumb.

***

Erin has a pool at her lovely St. Paul apartment. I took this picture because I thought that wearing swim trunks would mean I had a swimmer's body.

I also took it as this weird self-esteem thing. I put it in black & white because nobody needs to see all my ingrown hairs that look like chicken pox. Not even the Lord.

But I did it to tell myself that it is okay that I did not buy an elliptical or eat nothing but pomegranates or excessively do an ab challenge (like I was supposed to! Ugh!). This is how I look. It's probably how I am always going to look. If I am alive in ten years, I might look back at this picture the same way that I look at pictures of myself when I was 17, shaking my head and thinking, "What the hell did you think was wrong with you? You looked just fine! Now you're disgusting, but back then you were hot shit!"

Also, no one is going to be interested in me for my looks anyway. I'm the goofy one. I'm not the sexy one.

It's Pride weekend.

Maybe I can be proud of that.

Loring Park Episode #40: Mothers and Daughters

It has been so long, dear readers! I don't even have an excuse why this episode took two months to post. Some of it was kind of painful, so we'll go with that.

Chapter 1: Easter
                                 

I GOT PREGNANT.

Okay, not really.

But I'm struggling with my body.

When I'm naked, I have a flat somach.

When I put clothes on, this happens.

Yes, I *do* need to exercise more and tone things up, but I don't have a gut until I get dressed. Then a magic muffin top appears. I'm 5'7" with a crazy short torso, and I'm constantly standing next to people with great bodies. This is Robin, and he has abs you could grate cheese on.

Why did I bring up cheese? Now I just want some mozzarella sticks.

Anyway, this picture was taken on Easter Sunday, and was a lot of fun! I went with Jared, and we sat with some co-workers and Chuck. When I walked inside, Chuck's brother's roommate -- who is handsome and hetero -- was there with his girlfriend. I asked them if they would be willing to play a game with me. Let me tell you, this random 6'2" blonde dude played his part perfectly.

We went back to the patio where my friends were sitting, when the dude came up to me and said the line I gave him. "Jakey," he said. "You ... You didn't call me."
My female co-worker looked shocked.
"Well, I've been really busy," I said. "You look good."
"Thanks," he said. "I'm ... uh .... here with my girlfriend."
"Oh!" I cried, doing my best Emmy acting. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

They walked back inside and my co-worker was beside herself. "What was that?!" she cried. I love acting.

My mother soon picked us up to bring us to our grandparents' house for Easter. Jared had maybe one too many mimosas, and I was worried about him appearing too drunk for a religious holiday. Unfortunately, I was the one who came across as hammered when my Grandma Shirley opened the door.

"Where did the bathroom go?" were my first words. In my defense, they just moved to the townhouse and I had forgotten!

The dinner was delicious, and I felt grateful that my definition of family has been broadened. I was moving in with Jared soon, and while I describe him as my nonsexual life partner in a joking kind of way, he really is that, just in the way that Erin is my platonic soulmate and Joey is my adopted son. I fell asleep on my grandparents' bed, Jared fell asleep on the living room, and we were still more fun than my brother would have been. (I kid!)

On the way back to LUSH, I was freaking out because I thought I had left my keys in the car. Turns out I hadn't just left them in the car, I had left them in the ignition. I do not know how I survive, either. I am the reason my mother takes Lipitor.

Sorry

New episodes are coming soon. I promise.

Remember Season One (episodes 1-13?) when I updated almost every week? We're trying to get back to that.

'Til then, here's a scandalous preview:

*A new job! (sort of)
*New boys! (ALWAYS)
*Old flames! (DAMMIT)
*A new roommate!
*Fights! Scandal! Sexy times!
*Jean Dujardin!

Loring Park Episode #39: Sometimes it Snows in April

Before we begin this episode, we have to briefly go back to my Oscar party, because I forgot to write how funny it was.

"Is Kim Novak presenting 'Frozen' because her face is that way?"
"Why is Zac Efron famous?" - from one of the three heterosexual males who was in the group. The women and gays booed him mercilessly.
"You would rather have sex with Anne Hathaway than Daniel Craig? That somehow makes you really gay."


I was behaving myself until the announcer said, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Charlize Theron and Chris Hemsworth."

Then I turned into an eight-year-old with Tourette's Syndrome.

GOD DAMMIT SHIT FUCK!!!

"Jacob!" my mother yelled. "I am going to start having a swear jar in this house!"
"Why do you swear so much at Chris Hemsworth?" Joey asked.
I didn't have the heart to tell a crowded room why. We'll go with Tourette's. That is perfectly reasonable. And let's be realistic. It's not like Chris Hemsworth reminds me of anybody.

God dammit.

                                                    ***

My life always goes to shit in April. I am not saying this to get sympathy. I am blessed. I have loving family and friends, a job with health insurance that I don't entirely suck at, my feet firmly planted into the Minneapolis comedy scene, a 28-inch waist*, the entire series of Roseanne on DVD, and a plethora of eye candy at my disposal.

(*I hate myself for that because I just wrote on the TelevisionWithoutPity.com forums that it bugged the hell out of me on RuPaul's Drag Race when Kelly Mantle bragged about her 28-inch waist. Here we are)

But the fact that April hates me remains. Before I go into details, let me recount the years so you know I'm not just saying this.

2000: Hospitalized for depression
2007: Firm in my realization that I am leaving UW-Stout, my brother informs me that I have been accepted at CUNY Brooklyn College. I have been depressed and numb for the past nine months, so it's like I'm not even there when my father accompanies me on the plane ride and we stay at a Howard Johnson in the ghetto. I apply for Creative Writing as my major and I roll my eyes at the man who goes over my prospective first classes with me.
2008: I drop out of CUNY Brooklyn College, to the surprise of absolutely no one, especially my father and mother, who discouraged me from going and staying, respectively.
2011: I get called a faggot on a party bus for my friend Kristen's birthday and subsequently break my nose at The Saloon when I fall off the whorebox. I wrote about it here.
2013: You were there. That puke stain never really went away, by the way.

But April did have some sunny spots. We'll talk about the end of March first, though.

Loring Park Episode #38: Dallas Haters Club

Previously on Loring Park: Jakey didn't exactly have a Valentine, but had good company nonetheless.

On a Tuesday night, I got to do five minutes of jokes at House of Comedy! I mainly talked about my cousin's wedding in San Diego. Jared and Charlie came to see me, and so did T.J., my bartender/therapist! He was with his friend Prince Eric. Halfway through the show, Kevin texted me asking if I could go to The Saloon to get the credit card that he forgot on Sunday (he was going to Vegas the next day). I asked T.J. about it and he said Kevin would have to go to the bar himself with his ID (which is par for the course, and I've forgotten to close my tab an embarrassing amount of times). I called Kevin in the bathroom and he was frustrated.

I was excited to see all the boys and I felt bad that I didn't know T.J. was coming, because I could have comped his ticket! I knew who Prince Eric was.

"I've met you at the bar," said Prince Eric.
"I've met you before," I smiled. (I came over to Kevin's for the first time and Prince Eric showed up and asked if I was sleeping on the couch. This was two years ago)

Jared and I went to The Saloon later because it was karaoke! Tuesdays are kind of a sparse crowd. There was a boy who I follow on Instagram. He is from Dallas and moved here and posts pictures of himself working out with his shirt off. I thought he was cute. I was going to say hi to him, but the moment never presented itself, and I believe the moment has to be organic.

Before singing, I stopped at the office just to see if they had Kevin's credit card. They did, but they (understandably!) wouldn't give it to me. I wasn't mad because I got to talk to Eddie who is the cutest bouncer there.

Kevin called and was livid. "Kevin, they're not going to give me your credit card," I said. "I could have your name tattooed on my ass and they would keep it."

He was exasparated. "Wha -- I-- okay," he said. "I love you. I have to go. Bye."

It was nice of him to say that. I don't know. Prince Eric was super nice and cordial, and yet seeing him reminded me that the first time I had gone to this boy's apartment, he invited someone else over. And yes, that was almost two years ago and you would think I would be over something like that. And I am. But seeing Prince Eric made me realize that while Kevin and I will always be friends and I will always have positive feelings about him, I could never feel secure in a relationship with him. If he dated another medical student/stripper now, I really would be okay with it.

Except then I get drunk and tell people I am going to marry him. Whatever.

Jared and I sang Lauryn Hill's (Doo Wop) That Thing and wowed the crowd. We changed the words so they were gayer.

Jocks, you know you better watch out
Some twinks, some twinks are only about
That thing
That thing
That thing


***


A week later, WWE Elimination Chamber was in town and Dollface Killer had great seats! I wanted to hear about it, but first Jared and I went to The Saloon, and by the time I got to Dollface's apartment, it was 4 in the morning! He lives down the street.

I must have been really drunk because I instantly asked for water. We watched 2001 Survivor Series, but I only wanted to watch the Trish Stratus match. I didn't even physically react when he took his shirt off.

The next morning, he texted me and told me I was a "fucking alci" [sic]. I was so sad about this that I went day drinking at brunch with Jared and Joey at Brit's Pub and then I went drinking again with Erin at The Pourhouse! Mondays are supposed to be my nights to go to ACME Comedy Club and make my dreams come true!

It was an embarrassing situation. On some levels, I was upset at Dollface. You're gonna call me an alcoholic when every time you've seen me is at the bar and every time you text me is after 2 A.M.?? Yet I am still so damn socially awkward that I have yet to understand that when a dude invites you over at 4 AM, he doesn't want to watch wrestling as much as he wants to, um, wrestle. Also, I talk a big game about how hot Dollface Killer is, and maybe it was karma biting me back. He is so attractive and chiseled that I forgot to realize that he is also capable of having feelings and emotions.
               
                         ***

Speaking of emotions, Paul Ryan never talked to me again after he got me naked. I shouldn't have been surprised by it. If I were a woman dating straight men, and a man chased me for two months and then we finally got naked and I didn't let him stick it in, I wouldn't expect to hear from that guy, either.

Nevertheless, I saw him at The Saloon that Saturday and it was sooooo awkward.

"Hello, Jakey," he said, in the way that you say hi to your aunt at a Christmas party.
"PAUL RYAN!" I cried. I tried to kiss him, but it was odd because a) he did not recipocrate and b) he is 6'4".

I would have been sad about this, but immediately in the distance near the dance floor was GAY OPRAH! I had seen him at The Saloon a few months prior but didn't know if he would know who I was. This time, he was quite outgoing.

"Hello, Jakey," he sang.
"Hi!" I cried. I really thought it would end there, because he knows everybody. But instead he even introduced me to his friends!

"This is Jakey," he went on. "And he wrote a fantastic play that was all about the Minneapolis gay scene." This meant a lot to me because, of all the five performances we had, Oprah had seen by far the worst one (our second performance, on the Sunday afternoon).
"Thank you, Oprah," I said. "That is very sweet."
"You know, I tried to be an actor when I was a kid," he said. "I even had head shots and everything! And I went to an acting teacher and she said that I 'needed to find a different creative outlet'."
"That is so sad!" I cried. "I think you're doing okay with the creative outlet thing."
It was a lovely moment, and I was truly grateful for it. My ego and self-esteem levels were at optimal levels.

So it is only natural that a week later, they both came crashing to a halt.

It is so ironic that before I left the house that night, I even Facebooked a favorite Margaret Cho quote of mine.

So from the age of 10, I became anorexic, and then bulimic, and then stayed that way for about 20 years, until one day I just said, "Hey, what if this is it? What if this is just what I look like and nothing I do changes that? So how much time would I save if I stopped taking that extra second every time I look in the mirror to call myself a big fat fuck? How much time would I save if I just let myself walk by a plate-glass window without sucking in my gut and throwing back my shoulders? How much time would I save?" And it turns out I save about 97 minutes a week. I can take a pottery class.

 I strolled in with Jared, and we soon reunited with Joey at Danny's bar. The boy from Dallas was there, and he made a comment about Joey's facial hair. I laughed because I thought he and Joey knew each other really well.

"No, I don't really know him," Joey said. "I mean, I know who he is."
"Oh, that's kinda weird," I said. I continued to enjoy the evening. It was crowded, I knew a lot of people, and I was feeling good about myself.

Jared caught me at T.J.'s bar. "You'll thank me for this," he said. "There's someone who I want you to talk to."
I followed him and ran into Chuck, who I haven't spoken to since the New Year's Eve debacle. It wasn't horribly awkward because we were both honest with each other, a surprisingly brazen concept.

"You told me to stop talking to you, so I did," I said.
"I still enjoy you, I just don't think I can be very close with you anymore," he said. We got along fine after that.

We found ourselves back at T.J.'s bar, where I felt an inexplicable need to order a shot. But I am a pussy about shots and always sip them. Dallas and his friends were next to me.

"Oh, I know who you are," I said. "I follow you on Instagram." I saw him on Grindr and he linked to his Instragram profile and I thought Why the hell not? Eye candy is eye candy.
"You follow me on Instagram?" he asked me in the same tone of voice you would use to a three-year-old who told you she went poopie in the potty. "That's so cute. Shoot your drink!"
"I have to sip it!" I cried. "I always have to think of something to drink to."
"You should drink to hair growth," he said.

This is the part in which I tell you that I delivered an amazing and witty diatribe that shut him and his friends down and led to applause from the rest of the bar.

But I said nothing. I suppose I can best compare it to when Donny Osmond went on The Rosie O'Donnell Show and called her fat.

Okay, the above clip is actually of him apologizing (and Marie came out! And they made him sing "Puppy Love" in a dog suit! Hilarity!)

I couldn't find an adequate quote about the incident (but I did find her speaking about it in something called Radiance magazine), so I'll have to summarize it from the first-season retrospective DVD that QVC did for The Rosie O'Donnell Show that I totally bought (and they only did the one season! Boo!).

If you see a clip of the incident, there's a transition on Rosie's face in which her disbelief turns to despair, and that's what I was going through. I was so blindsided by this random stranger insulting me that by the time I was able to process it, he was off to presumably insult other people. T.J. told me that I handled it well and that he was surprised I didn't start screaming. I only start screaming when Wesley is involved.

And it's not like I'm a 100% legitimate professional comedian, but I'd like to think I know a thing or two about comedy. A balding joke is like a fat joke. It's the lowest common denominator. Hell, just last year in this blog I wrote about making an appointment at Hair Club for Men. I have long been aware that my hair is receding and thinning and is the only thing that gives away my age. Wesley would always make fun of my thinning hair, and then I would slap him like I was Stephanie McMahon, and that was fine. When you tell someone they are balding, or fat, or ugly, or a "faggot", or anything of that nature -- you are not telling them something that they themselves don't already know. It's not clever. It's not witty. It's you, as a basic and rancid person, watching RuPaul's Drag Race and having the misunderstanding that "mean = funny". No, it is not. Reading is fundamental because reading is an art form.

I wish I would have said that.

Instead, drunk me at 4 A.M. tagged Dallas in a post and wrote about the entire incident. I did not call him names and did not make personal attacks. I even made a joke, saying I would be sure to wear my best toupee the next time I see him. Chuck drove Jared and I to my apartment and I kissed Chuck a lot, and I texted Wesley at 3:30 A.M. because for a moment in time we were briefly stuck in the parking garage and in my drunken wisdom I thought he would the best person to know what to do.

I had to work the next day, which was a Saturday at Mall of America. Death was not an option.

By mid-afternoon, people had been writing on my post. Quinn defended me, which was really awesome. Dallas responded with his own diatribe. A girlfriend of his wrote twice that I should take the post down. I did that afternoon, because hung over me realized that I am too damn old to be doing such things, and people were fighting about grammar, which was ridiculous and a distraction. Also, Dallas has very good use of syntax and grammar. I am not above giving props where they are due.

It was March 1st, and I decided that for the next 15 days, I WOULD BE SOBER. Seriously, in the past 24 hours, I had done the trifecta of what not to do when drinking:

*Drunk Facebook someone you don't know
*Drunk text the one person you should not be texting, especially at 3:30 in the morning
*Drunk kiss someone you're gonna feel weird about the next day

I met up with my parents, Erin and Robbie at bingo and told them this shocking revelation. I stayed at my parents' house that night. Dallas's friend wrote me a very sweet Facebook message at 5:30 AM, again profusely apologizing for her friend. It was nice and she didn't have to do it, and I wanted to respond as such.

Still, doesn't it say something when you're the asshole and you apologize 0 times and your friend apologizes 3 times?

                                                 ***

Boosting my spirits was my 11th Annual Oscar Party! It was held at my parents' house because not only do I not have television but I have a teeny tiny studio apartment (that I can't afford. Shut up.)

Not pictured are my parents and grandparents. My dad won, with 21 of 24! Rude! Joey got 2nd place for the second year in a row. I got 4th with 18, which wasn't bad. The great thing is that all of my friends were supportive of my not drinking, and I didn't even feel tempted to reach for vodka at any point. I will say that when Chris Hemsworth came out, I had to donate about $10 to the swear jar.

I'll end the spoilers and say that my 15 days went 7 days. It was nothing super dramatic. Joey, Jared and I were at the 19 and Joey and Jared clapped "Relapse! Relapse! Relapse!" But I had learned a lot. First of all, socially drinking (one or two) is different than binge-drinking. And I realized that I stay up until 3 or 4 A.M. anyway, booze or no booze (and by no means am I implying that such a thing is healthy). I was going to the bars so much because I was lonely and need people to engage and inspire me, and a bar is the only place you'll really find that if you're so much of a night owl. It was important for me to find other nocturnal outlets.

I would have drank at the 19 because Chuck was there with Brent and another friend. Brent is ridiculously handsome and I can't stand it.

"You and Brent have something in common," Chuck chuckled (pun!), referencing Dollface.
"Stopppp," I said. "Dollface is mad at me! I feel bad!"

At the end of the night, Brent was ready to vamoose. "Jakey," he impossibly smiled. "I can't be your broski. I'm only half a broski. You need a full one."


I'm still not sure what that means and that is absolutely okay.

***

I was off the Sunday before St. Patty's, so I was happy to celebrate my Irish heritage.

I am like, 10% Irish. Good enough! The night before I was able to reunite with Julie and her boyfriend, and he graciously bought me a drink. T.J. was on vacation in California, so I had to flirt with an entirely different bartender.

I met a gay broski but I don't think he was from town. I flirted and mingled. I yelled at Liam and Joey. It had been over a year since I had done a Sunday Funday, but it sounds like I did it right.

Coming up, I am doing my first ever half hour comedy special! It is Sunday, April 6th at 12 PM. I'm trying to make it a brunch theme! Details are at www.dielaughingmarathon.com

Also, I have another sexy sexy sinus infection because I get sick every time the weather changes. I would move to Arizona if they weren't so weird about gay people.

Next week: Decisions about summertime! Will Jakey stay in Loring Park? Will Jared ever stop snoring?

Loring Park Episode #37: Broskis Don't Cry

After doing that thing I always do (bring a hot guy home and then sloppily make out and that's it because I'm Jakey and I DON'T DO THAT), I decided to go to the boy version of a gynecologist to get things, um ... y'know ... cleared up for business. My doctor is very handsome and he talks about everything like he's in an action movie about to diffuse a bomb.

"There are two ways to fight constipation," he said, but I wasn't listening because I got lost in his dreamy blue eyes and I could see his chest hair poking out from under his uniform. Also, his nurse's assistant is totally a broski and was like "Weren't you here for this last year, too?"

"Yes," I said. "The first time was two years ago on Valentine's Day and the last time was in April." I remembered that because that was when I got my heart broken and my butt went along for the ride.

My stomach got worse after my visit. I think I have psychosomatic Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

I was gearing up for my trip to San Diego, but I went out to The Saloon with Tan Man on Sunday! He graciously agreed to drive, because I am budgeting, and by "budgeting" I mean that I somehow had literally no dollars to my name. Earlier that day I asked Wesley who we wanted to win the Super Bowl. He said Denver so I decided I was going to root for Seattle.

We ran into Paul Ryan at The Saloon! "Be careful, Jakey," he said, and that was our entire interaction. Dammit! He totally hit it and quit it! Well, it's me, so he, like ... lightly slapped it and quit it? Leave me alone. I was drunk and sad so then I falsely accused Wesley of having sex with somebody that he didn't. I cannot have nice things.

Speaking of not having nice things, the whole point of going out was for Jared's birthday, but he passed out after brunch and no one woke him up and he called me livid at 3 in the morning. "I missed my own birthday!!" he shrieked. "Oh, Rhoda," I said.

Wednesday night, I was gearing up for my trip to San Diego! I was going with my mom, my aunt, and my cousin, who is a 15-year-old girl. We decided she would be my chaperone. I was nervous about the trip for a few reasons. We were going to my cousin's wedding, and the wedding was going to be very very very evangelical and very very very Jesus-y, and I was worried about feeling awkward (I don't read as "evangelical", y'know?). Also, I had nooooooooo money and I was embarrassed about my mom being my ATM for the three days we were there. Not to mention that my stomach was still acting up, to the point that every time I went to the bathroom there was a lot of heavy prayer (even I can get Jesus-y when needed).

My father and I talked about money at 1:30 in the morning. "I love you, son," he said.
"Don't say 'but' after that," I pleaded.
"I won't," he said. "You can't live here."
"Thank you," I said. "I needed to hear that."
"If your mother had it her way, you and your brother would live here for free until the day she died," he said. "But, Christ. You're almost 30. Weren't you going to live with that clown in the suburbs?"
"Kevin?" I said. "No, that wouldn't work. We would have to have a grown-up conversation about if we're ever gonna be in a relationship or not, and then I would always be asking who the slut in our kitchen was."
"I .... okay, then," was my father's response.

Loring Park Episode #36: Guys and Dollfaces

Loring Park Episode #36: Guys and Dollfaces

Last season on Loring Park:

Jakey got his heart broken. Twice. He wrote a play about it. He decided to live and said good-bye.

                             ***

Still haven’t figured out which “Loring Park” character you are? Take the quiz!

I was lucky enough to be off on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day! Instead of a house party this year, we opted to hit the clubs. Jared came over and I informed him that we were going to my friend Norman’s house, as he and his partner bought a mansion on Clifton Street. I haven’t seen Norman in two and a half years, so I was touched by the invitation.

“We’re going to a mansion party?!” Jared cried. “But I am wearing zebra!” We ended up schmoozing just fine at the party, even though we were the youngest people there (not counting Norman) and I told myself that if anyone asked what my job was, I would just tell them that I had Kevin’s job.

Speaking of Kevin, I was hoping to spend time with him on New Year’s Eve because I had plans to bring him to the annual comedians bruch on New Year’s Day! I was going to bring him last year but he wouldn’t wake up in the morning and I was a bitter, pouty mess. I hadn’t heard from him, but I did get a text from Chuck, who thought it would be funny to send me a screencap of Kevin on a slutty Grindr-ish phone app.

                               

 Here’s the thing. If you are a regular fan of this fake show, you understand that while Kevin is not (and never will be) my boyfriend, he is more than one of my one thousand and one bar crushes. There’s a history there, with real feelings, and unsolicitedly informing me that he has plans that night that do not involve me didn’t seem like something a friend would do, and surely not one who had a front row seat to all the drama.

But maybe I was overreacting. Jared and I agreed that I would not text Chuck back about it, and then we waited until an hour later when I was drunk. We got a cab with Joey and Quinn on the way to Jetset, and even they agreed with me.

Quinn had never been to Jetset and felt nervous. “Just tell everyone you’re in banking,” I said. Jetset gays love words like banking and portfolio. I texted Paul Ryan and said Jetset wasn’t the same without making out with him, because I am good at flirting. After half an hour at Jetset, we vamoosed to The Saloon, where an imitation town car ripped us off and made us pay $30 to go eight blocks. And I wonder how I went bankrupt.

Jared was my New Year’s kiss, and I was fine with that. We continued flirting and mingling, and then Kevin showed up!! What in the what?? He said he got a cab after midnight. I asked if he would go to the comedians brunch with Jared and me the next day and he agreed. Jared and I went home by ourselves, happy to bring in the new year with laughter.

 I had turned my phone off because it was acting up. I woke up at ten and told Kevin I was still bringing him to brunch, and then I received a message from Chuck that told me to never speak to him again because he could no longer understand someone who creates their own pain and anxiety, and he reminded me that I am 25. Joke is on him because I am 27, unless you are an agent or potential love interest. I haven’t spoken to him since but he sent me a Snapchat from his tropical vacation and I can’t tell if that was a passive-aggressive move or if he just forgot I was still friends with on him there.

“I do not self-create my own pain and anxiety,” I told Jared. “That’s so ridiculous.”

  “Right,” Jared said.

“I miss Wesley,” I said out loud as India.Arie's cover of "Heart of the Matter" came on my iTunes. I wondered how he had spent his New Year’s. Did he leave town? Did he go to a straight bar? Who did he kiss?

“JAKEY!” Jared cried. “It’s not even noon and you already broke your resolution! I’m beating you! I haven’t eaten anything yet!”

Paul Ryan sent me a sexy sexy text message and I prepared to pick up Kevin, even though my phone was no longer taking calls so I could only text. How awful! Jared, Mona and I (Mona is my Toyota Yariz. She is a lesbian and we have an adversarial relationship) picked up Kevin from outside from an apartment building. He had stayed with a med student/exotic dancer but they did not have sexy time because there was a third wheel involved. “But I really like him,” Kevin said.

“I’m happy for you,” I said. And I was.

 We made our way to Jake’s Grille in Eagan to the annual comedians’ brunch! I was again honored to be invited. Ron Lamprecht wrote on Facebook that Elisabeth Ess ate my weight in bacon. “I love your Facebook,” Wendy Maybury told me. “It reminds me of me when I was a 16-year-old girl.” Jared was so hung over that we had an entire pitcher of water at our table. I wore the tightest T-shirt I possibly could.

I dropped Kevin off at his house, then went to Jared’s to talk about Kevin, then went back to Kevin’s.

 “What do you want to … do?” he asked.

What was I so afraid of?

We went grocery shopping and liquor shopping. He flirted with the cashier at the liquor store. At Rainbow he chased me around the store with a salami. I wish that was a metaphor.

We played video games all afternoon and all night and he talked about the dancing med student some more. We discussed friendships and how he does not go out to the gay bars that much anymore, and I enjoyed that Jared and Joey and I are more than just “bar friends”. I talked about how Chuck had friend-dumped me, and what a weird concept that was.

 “There was another boy I used to hang out with a lot, but he just completely dropped me from his life,” I said. “And I’ve never had that happen before. That was weird.”

“Well … why do you think he did?” Kevin asked.

I sighed heavily. “Because I represent ‘gay’ and he can’t have that in his life right now,” I told Dr. Thomsen.

“Okay,” Kevin said. “You know that has nothing to do with you, right?”

 God dammit, Kevin Thomsen. When you’re good, you’re good. It was a light bulb moment. Wesley’s life was a puzzle, and I was never a corner piece.

He sat on the couch next to me and we discussed luck. Kevin worked damn hard for everything he has, and I will always appreciate that about him. “I haven’t had much luck in my life,” he said.

“That’s not true!” I cried. “You met me!”

“Well,” he laughed. “That was more like fate.”
“Aww!”

“Your elbow is digging into my neck and it’s really uncomfortable.” I am sooo good at flirting, you guys.

 Still fearful of physical intimacy, I finally kissed him in his driveway at 11 P.M. like we were in middle school. But I hugged him a lot at brunch. Probably to an embarrassing degree. He makes me feel comfortable.

                               

                He made it official with the dancing med student two weeks later. I had no right to feel anything but joy on his behalf, and I did not turn to Hot Pockets until he started posting “A Whole New World” on Facebook. I was naively selfish enough to think that was my thing. It was never mine to begin with.