Previously on Loring Park: A five-year friendship took a break. "Moonlight" won Best Picture. Ariana Grande sang "Moonlight". Jakey didn't drink for six days. I am happy to inform you that I survived April. It's a recurring theme of my life that things go sour in April (remember last year, the height of my passive-aggressively running away from conflict?). I had spent so much of my life identifying with what "group" I was in, or who my best friends were, and while I'm always grateful to have abundant friendships in my life, it was important for me to learn I could hang out by myself and still have a good time.
Steve went to San Francisco for five days. It was a present he bought for his mother. Do you know what I got my mother for Christmas? Lotion. On a credit card that she helps pay for. I instead got an Armistead Maupin book from the library to have my own San Francisco experience. I happened to have that Saturday and Sunday off, so I was ready to be a single girl about town.
I went to The Saloon to watch RuPaul's Drag Race. I sat by Liam and Tofu at their table (Tofu isn't his real name, but he goes by it). Everyone at their table was gracious, but I couldn't enjoy myself. I kept seeing _____ and his posse and one of them even got their raffle ticket drawn and got to play Plinko! I booked immediately at 8:01 P.M. My friend Billy asked where I was, but I told him I had already gone home to get pretty and that I might head back out later.
Carla wanted to go the '90s with a friend, and I thought it would be a great idea! Her friend had a crush on the ridiculously muscular bouncer. Well, who doesn't? The girls came over at about 10 and we pre-gamed until a little after 11. I didn't realize that Carla's friend was driving. I then forgot how horrendous driving downtown is on a Friday night, especially when a concert is just ending at the Target Center. It took forever! We finally parked somewhere on 1st Street, in front of signs that said "NO EVENT PARKING". Carla and I thought this was fine because the event was over, and the car would be fine.
The '90s had a long line, but if you paid cash you could go in the side door. About ten minutes in, I realized that Carla's friend was drunk and shouldn't be driving home. I asked Carla if she wanted to call a dry drivers service or just come back at 8 in the morning. She said she would take care of it. I then decided to stop worrying! I hadn't been to the '90s in forever, and I loved seeing the bartenders and queens that I knew during my nine month stint of being the Sunday night hostess (I miss the gig and I miss the money, but I also don't miss having to always carve out those two hours a week, especially if I had other plans. I get Sundays off a lot now, whereas before I didn't, and it was easier to go home from work, get ready and then do the '90s, and not be tempted to get too drunk or tired at brunch). The muscular bouncer, Muscle Chris, was his usual friendly self and at one point I was massaging his back without realizing it.
I told Carla I was gonna head to the Saloon -- it was 1:30, so I could have a drink there and then stay a bit later (they close at 3). The minute I got there my phone rang, and I spent my entire night standing outside on the patio. I heard yelling in the background. It turns out Carla's friend's car did did towed, it was apparently all Carla's fault, and that Carla had her keys in that car so she needed to stay at my house that night.
I am never going to get laid.
The cab stopped at The Saloon to pick me up on the way my house. So much for my Friday night. Carla's friend was still bitching and swearing at her and insisted that the cabbie drive her all the way home to Anoka. Carla was trying her best to calm her friend down, but it wasn't happening. I told her to go to the door, and I told the driver to call me when he got to Anoka.
"You're saying things you're really going to regret in the morning," he kept telling Carla's friend. She wouldn't have it.
I have been the person who has acted poorly under the influence of alcohol and said horrible things to people who were my close friends. I wanted to believe the best in people, and that she would feel bad enough in the morning. I also didn't want her in my house! What if they fought and argued all night? Carla put on some of my pajamas and we attempted sleep, but we were both too rattled to relax. Oh, and Carla's phone was dead and she has an iPhone and I have an Android, get at me, motherfuckers.
We woke up at 9 and kept calling until 11, when her friend finally answered the phone. After a morning full of coconut water and Red Bull, we were recovered enough to head to Anoka. (Also, Carla watched lame women's wrestling matches with me, so I forgave her for anything). My mom graduated from Anoka High School! Go Tornadoes!
We got to her friend's house. She said she was on the way down. Then she came outside ten minutes later. Then she enjoyed a cigarette for ten more minutes. On the way to the impound lot she apologized a few times but was also throwing Carla under the bus. I completely checked out at that point and dropped them off at the impound lot.
Oh! The freeway exit was closed! So my normally five-minute drive home from the impound lot turned to 25. I was already over this day! When I was about to leave, Carla told me that her friend didn't have any money and they had no way to pay to get the car out. I knew if I would have paid it, it would have been on my credit card, meaning Loretta would have been paying it! I finally was able to say "no" to something, and I went to LUSH to play bingo with Markie (Carla told me they later worked it out; I encouraged her to hang out with people who treated her better). I didn't win, but there were cute boys and cute dogs there. Lee was having one of his bi-weekly house parties, and I texted him saying that I wouldn't go because I drank too much at bingo. I had only had two, but I didn't want to drive to Plymouth, especially at night.
After attempting to take a nap, I looked up how much an Uber would be to Lee's house and it wouldn't be as bad as I thought. Plus, after a night of dealing with squabbling girls and their drama, I needed boys! At least when gays have drama, I can look at them.
I was still a little nervous. Lee is always a gracious host, but I didn't know who would be there, other than that I was going to be the oldest person there, and would I Uber home right away if it got awkward or would somebody drive me home ...
It was, of course, pitch black when I got there, and a boy who I have seen on Grindr for years (don't judge! My mom lives somewhat close to the U!) got to the house at the same time I did.
"Can I walk in with you?" I asked.
"Sure," he smiled.
"What's your name?" I asked.
He responded with a super broski name and I was already feeling nervous.
There were about 15 boys there, ranging in ages from 21 to ... 24? Oh, God. Brexit was in the kitchen and I have a schoolboy crush on him so of course I talked to everybody else but him because I am a lady.
The broski quickly changed into a wrestling singlet and Lee pulled me into his room.
"Debby," he said. Lee is Ruth and I am Debby.
"Debby isn't here yet," I said.
"Okay, fine," Lee said. "Jakey. Who do you have a crush on that's here?"
"What? No one," I said while trying to be coy.
"I like the wrestler," said Lee.
"I like Brexit," I said.
"He has a boyfriend," said Lee.
"Aww," I pouted.
"It's okay," Lee said. "You're still cute."
We went to the living room and Brexit's boyfriend was doing yoga poses that involved putting his head behind his leg, and I began to understand their entire relationship.
I supervised beer pong downstairs with the children. Speaking of children, Bruce showed up! Bruce stayed with us last Halloween weekend and I feel like his mother, even if he is 6'2" and ripped.
Debby eventually emerged. At 3 AM everyone took their shirts off, including Brexit, who has pectoral muscles I could live in. No one asked me to take mine off but I did anyway. (Also, I ended up talking to Brexit and he's nice and smart and more than just a sex object in my head. Good grief.)
"Ew, you're scrawny," said one of the children. I passed out on a couch. When I woke up there was a gorgeous nerd-cute boy wearing glasses asleep on the neighboring sofa. I did not get his name or penis.
Pride weekend was upon us! But first it was Father's Day, and I have long given up hopes of finding a sugar daddy. I planned going to LUSH and then my grandparents' house, but I was also besotted by a horrific summer cold. My dreamy doctor put me on Prednisone and again expressed concerns about me being on it because it makes people hyper and I am already pretty "squirrely." I hope that's in my file.
Anyway, I still made it to LUSH where I enjoyed brunch with my friends Ria and Micah and friends (relatives? I'm a bad listener) visiting from Kentucky. Steve had to work at 2 but stopped and said hello for a little bit.
This was our server. TAKE ALL MY MONEY. He is a dancer/entertainer and had to work all of Pride weekend, the poor baby.
Things were a little awkward because Liam was there and kept sitting at our table and I was trying to avoid him. I was immature and cryptic before, so I'm going to put it all in the open, because I've been watching a lot of Bethenny Frankel lately and I think it's important to note when you're in the wrong and acting like an asshole.
When most of my friends went to Vegas for Jared's birthday, I was at home begging my mother to help pay my debt consolidation bill because I am broke as a joke as a result of my own poor decisions. I felt like shit about it but understood my current circumstances, and jokingly told my friends that if any of them went to the Mariah Carey concert, our friendship was over (none of them would have paid that much money to go see her, anyway. Britney? Maybe).
Anyway, while the gang was in Vegas and I was eating my feelings on my mother's couch, Liam tagged everyone at Caesar's Palace for the Mariah Carey concert and tagged ME in it with the update of "making Jakey jealous". This was not the first or last thing he had done on social media in a very short span of time to hurt my feelings, but when I look back, it was probably the most egregious. The last one was a week later when he wrote "you look old" on a Valentine's Day picture that I thought I looked good in! Maybe my skin is thicker now that I live with someone who insults my appearance at least once a week, but I was feeling sensitive that winter. So I pushed the block button. So did Joey and so did Steve. I ran into him weeks later at the bar and he cried and I told him I would be cordial to him - I wasn't gonna ice anybody out. That being said, even in February I was worrying about him trying to come to my Pride party. I wasn't going to invite him because we weren't friends anymore. But what would I do if he showed up? Would I pull a Tamra Barney and yell "LEAVE!" like he was Alexis Bellino in Season 7 of The Real Housewives of Orange County?
Now, here we were four months later, and I still hadn't tried to have a real conversation about what happened. I wanted to stay upset and non-responsive.
"I need to talk to you later," Liam said.
"Okay," I said. And I knew what this was about because he had been texting me for a month about the Pride party and I wasn't responding.
I told Ria and Micah about it and they are friends with both of us and didn't want to take sides, nor should they have. "You could always tell him it's a fire hazard and you can only invite a set number of people," Ria offered half-jokingly.
I tersely texted "You're not invited" after he implored again. At the time I thought it was a good decision, that I had true to myself and my own values and self-esteem, and that everybody would agree with me.
Um, no.
Ria, Micah, and their friends left, and while awaiting my chariot of my mother's SUV, I sauntered over to the table where Quinn and Louis were sitting. I decided to use as my greeting that I had finally told Liam he could not come to the party.
This is a picture of Megan Good and Christina Applegate from the underrated Anchorman 2. There are a surprising amount of articles about the surprising feminism of that movie. Anyway, Christina is Veronica, Ron Burgundy's estranged wife, and Megan is Linda, his sexy producer whom he is having an affair with. When the women FINALLY meet -- which I was waiting the whole movie for -- Ron encourages them to kiss or have a three-way. The women are both disgusted. "Read the room, Ron," Veronica says in my favorite part of the movie. Anyway, I couldn't find a .gif of it, but this was my same mistake. I did not read the room, and Quinn promptly yet politely ripped me an entirely new asshole.
"I am purposely finding something else to do that afternoon because of how you are acting," he said. And I want to re-iterate that it was ... Nice. He didn't raise his voice, he didn't call me names, but rather he laid out his case in a way that I think was uncomfortable but important for him to do.
My mother picked me up, and I was a horrific Father's Day guest as I took a nap the whole time. This summer cold was kicking my butt. There was no way I could go to the '90s that night for Mystery Porn Theater, but I really didn't want to miss out on the money. It's not an exorbitant amount of money, but it's cash in my hand that I get every week, and that's a nice feeling, especially if I'm going to go home right away and not spend it on tipping drag queens upstairs and going to The Saloon afterward.
"How much do they pay you?" Loretta asked. "You sound TERRIBLE. I'll pay you if you stay home."
I texted Reid at 8 P.M. (the show is at 10) and he graciously agreed to pinch-hit for me, and the staff at the '90s was very accommodating about letting the door person know. It pays to know people. I told my mom about the party, about the plans, about Liam, about Quinn and my asshole.
"Well, you couldn't go because of your own life choices," she said. "Liam isn't the one who racked up a bunch of credit card debt. If you felt like shit about yourself, that's not his fault."
"It wasn't helping," I pouted. "He was kicking me when I was down."
"But does he know that?" she asked.
"He knows I'm pissed," I said.
"But does he know why you're pissed?" she asked, and the music at the end of every Full House episode started playing in my head.
"I told him from the get-go," I said. "I have the texts."
"Here's the thing," she finally offered. "This isn't like it's your birthday party or a dinner party. It's Pride. It should be for everyone." My mother, a 59-year-old heterosexual, was able to understand that, and I wasn't.
Over the next few days, I thought about Liamgate right before I went to bed and right when I woke up. It was consuming too much energy, and I realized the adage that the right thing to do and the hard thing to do are usually the same. When you choose to forgive, it's not so much about what it does for the other person, but what it does for you. Conversely, I have been in that position where all you want is forgiveness and reconciliation. I didn't get it. It's been over 450 days, not that I'm counting. I texted Liam like a grown-up and invited him to the party.
January was a crazy month, children! A month of good-byes, hellos, public promiscuity, complicated feelings, and new friendships. I am even using an Oxford comma and I usually don't enjoy them. It was that eventful.
***
Our friend Chris, who had a code name on here once but I forget what it was, moved to West Hollywood after leaving his local corporate gig. A festive going-away party was held in Golden Valley. I felt blessed to be around so many people I enjoy, and not just because they had free booze, pizza, and a 24-pack of 5-hour energy drinks. It's like they knew I was coming! I arrived with Joey and Jared. We played flip cup and I was a diva and played with vodka. Among the other guests was Victor, whose boyfriend's sister is marrying my uncle in June (small world!), and Steve. Steve is 21 and flirts with me but he flirts with everybody and I never know how to feel about it. I've decided to stop thinking about it and letting it be.
My good friend Peter visited from Washington D.C. for a week! He treated me to Masu Sushi on my lunch break. We were going to go Dutch but Wells Fargo withdrew money for a loan payment that I thought my mom was making on my behalf and I literally had no dollars to my name. Peter covered the lunch but I felt terrible and ashamed and embarrassed. He is 22! And in college! And works three jobs! Peter always inspires me because he has hustle like no other. I am beginning to wonder if part of the reason I am such a financial/emotional mess is because hustle might be innate. I am a three-time college dropout. I haven't been to the gym since October or an open mike since December. If I ever achieve hustle, it will be because I watched a lot of Oprah on YouTube or got really desperate. I was not born with hustle.
Meanwhile, at The Saloon (of course!), I was at T.J.'s bar pretending that he isn't moving to Taiwan. Perhaps when he does it will finally end the chapter of my bar star career. That is why I cried so much when he told me he was leaving. I couldn't stay Peter Pan forever, and not just because I am getting bald and poochy (fuck you, aging!).
I was talking with Joey and Jared when a tall man built like a former linebacker came up to us. "Uh, sorry," he said. "Are you Jakey Emmert?"
"Who's asking?" I inquired, because I don't know if someone is friends with the broski or if they're friends with Celebrity and want to beat me up.
"Uh ... we're friends on Facebook," he said sheepishly. "I just moved to Minneapolis. I love your blog."
His name was Jonathan. Jared rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out of his head. I, of course, loved it! Hashtag fauxmas. We had a lovely conversation about his days in North Dakota but then he had to leave because one of his friends was super wasted and it was time for damage control. Been there.
"We don't even have the same taste in men," Jonathan lamented. "But then when he gets drunk he always decides to go forever who I like."
"What does he like? Broskis?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "And I like ..."
"Twinks?" I said with evident disdain because I am an insecure bitch.
He corraled his friends and the drunk one apologized for being drunk but I told him he was fine. I've had to deal with Jared passing out in public, for God's sake.
"I gotta go," Jonathan said. "But .... fuck it."
Then he grabbed me and we made out in front of everyone. Danny saw it from his bar (which is behind the kitchen, behind TJ's bar, and there's a window, if that makes any sense to those not familiar with the Saloon layout).
Then a dude who I hear likes the boys young -- like let's get the Feds involved young (allegedly!) -- made out with me, too! I felt flattered and skeevy because I always think I look super old.
"All I can say is Auntie Debby!" Jared wrote on Facebook. Auntie Debby is my alias when I get too drunk. She is recently divorced, hates her job, and has the false confidence and sexual prowess of a much younger and prettier woman.
"Stop making out with everyone!" Danny wrote on my Facebook.
We moseyed over to Danny's bar. I should now point out that it was a full moon this evening, and it was in Cancer.
"How many people are you going to kiss tonight?" Danny asked.
"I might as well make out with a third person and score the hat trick," I said. At this very moment, Steve walked by. I looked at him with lust and he looked at me like I had known he had an upcoming day off and asked if he could help me move into a new apartment that day.
"Ugh," he said. "Fine."
Then I made out with Steve. Surprisingly, I did not get strep or mono from any of this.
I never have a sexy Fourth of July. I worked this year.
It's okay. I got all of Pride weekend off, then I worked for nine days, then I had my birthday weekend off (which I'll get to), then I worked for nine days again. I was like a flight attendant, but in retail. It was exhausting but also rewarding, the latter of which as a reminder that if I am going to go to all these events and be at the bar all the time, I have to have money to pay for all of that.
We did go out on the Fourth, though. After work, I stopped at The Saloon (shocking!) with Joey. We met with Charlie and his roommate. Esquire, Doug, and Chuck were there. I felt patriotic and happy.
Three drinks later, I was feeling less happy.
Last year on the Fourth of July, I went to Kevin's house. And that's not necessarily even a good memory, because we ended up driving with his mom and stepdad to try to watch the fireworks and it was an epic fail, and I left without saying good-bye to him because he took a phone call from his friend and talked for over half an hour (and subsequently texted me that I was a drama queen when I got home), but it was still my only Fourth of July memory that involves a boy. Also, I was working at House of Comedy that week and felt like a real comedian.
A year had passed and I was still pining about boys that were not there (by my fourth drink, I looked at the door and thought of a certain person walking through the door and how I would feel if he did -- would my heart jump again? Probably), and so far this year as a comedian I have made less than $100, and even that was from gigs that I got literally the day of and could not have done had I been working at my real job that weekend.
So I was sad.
The next day, Charlie freaked out via text message that I was mad at him because he had been flirting with Esquire. This made me feel terrible! I adore Charlie. He, Becks, his roommate and a gal pal even saw me do comedy on a Monday night at Tryg's! We were doing a roast for a gay comedian who is younger and skinnier than me but was moving back to Seattle.
"Oh my god," I wrote. "I was sad about a lot of things, but not that. I can't call dibs on every boy at the bar. You can make out with anybody you want.
Unless it's Kevin (who you can't stand)
Or Wesley (which would never happen)
Or Joey (because he's like my kid and that's weird)
Or Celebrity
Or Channing Tatum
Or Football Guy, because I have a crush on him this week."
"Football Guy wants my ass," Charlie said.
Then I quickly changed tune.
"DOOO ITTTTTT," I wrote. "And tell me all about it."
"You want me to vicariously fuck him?" Charlie asked. "I don't really like him that much."
"If you were a true friend, you would," I insisted. Not only is Football Guy totally out of my league, but I have the sex life of a nun. I am like the awful girlfriend you had in tenth grade, where I am jealous all the time but when you get me alone I only want to cuddle.
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. Kevinworked 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.
Previously on Loring Park: "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, and that is when I realized how blue his eyes are. Oh, crap.
***
"If you want to bring a ... friend ... to Thanksgiving, just let me know," Grandma Shirley said the week before. I had her on speaker phone when Jared and I were getting ready and he cracked up.
"No, Grandma, I don't have any ... friends ... right now," I moped. "Just a lot of pals."
Thanksgiving was lovely and uneventful. I only felt stupid about being single because Grandma thought Dane's friend Walter was coming, and so there was an empty seat next to me. My grandparents sold their house and bought a new townhouse in the same city, and there was no yelling, and I only said the F-word twice.
The next day was BLACK FRIDAY at Mall of America! AAAAGGGGHH! I worked from 930 to 630 and then did two shows at House of Comedy as an emcee. Midway through the first show, I was at a bar when a drunk guy came up to me, as his wife was rolling her eyes in the background.
He was in a Pittsburgh Steelers hoodie and their 21-year-old daughter was mad because she didn't have her ID and can't drink, so she just wanted to "do rides" with the 17-year-old daughter. The wife keeps saying how she had to go to the bathroom.
"Hey, buddy," he slurred. "I don't have a problem with gay people." "Good," I smiled through gritted teeth, wondering why the bartender doesn't see me. I'M THE ONLY ONE HERE. "Gays and lesbians, I'm cool with them," he slurred again. "My best man at my wedding was gay. JACKIE!! I'm telling him about Jeff!" "Leave him alone!" she yelled. "Jeff was my best man. You guys would be great together. He's pretty crazy. We went to the gay club once, he kept taking his clothes off." "Yeah, that can happen ..." "Aww, man, you'd LOVE Jeff. You guys would be such a great couple. Like, he's GAY. Like, you're gay, but he's like ......... Really, really, gayyyyyyyy."
THAT'S when I got mad because not only is it super obnoxious when people assume that two gay people will automatically be a perfect match, but he had just seen me talk for ten minutes describing relationships with gay men who use Axe grooming products, do pantomime golfing in lieu of dancing, drink beer and can't name a single show on Bravo. Not only was he drunk and obnoxious, but HE WASN'T EVEN LISTENING.
It was still an enjoyable evening. Before the show started, the wait staff informed me that an 18-year-old boy was going to be in the front row and he was being shipped off to the Navy the following day. "We thought you should be the comic that mentioned it," she said.
I called him out during my set and he waved. "Well, hello, sailor," I said. "Don't worry. I won't hit on you. It's awkward. And I only put out for Marines." Then he winked at me. After the show his bro-ski friends shook my hand. Life could be worse.
I love the title of this episode. It implies new beginnings, new friendships, and foreign lands.
It's also the name of a super-trendy straight bar in the North Loop that we'll get to later, but still. I like the sound of it. Tangiers.
***
We were at The Saloon on a Sunday night and Joey was planning to come out to his parents later that week. It made me appreciate my own family and I enjoyed being a fly on the wall listening to Quinn give him advice. I was fine enjoying the moment.
A few days before, Joey and I got in an argument and I cried all day before being a grown-up about it. He slammed the door of Ryan Robertson's car and sent me an angry text message, and I found myself trying to be consoled by Ryan and his friend who was dressed as a seahorse for Halloween (best costume ever).
"Whenever two girls fight, it's always about a boy," I said sadly, and the seahorse nodded.For the last few months, I had thought he was "over" me and not amused by me, and he had thought I had grown distant. I have learned that you actually have to communicate with people when your feelings are hurt, or else feelings just get more hurt. Also, I was in a really bad mood the week before because I lost a $100 bill at The Saloon. Adulthood remains elusive. Nevertheless, our tiff only made our friendship stronger and made me appreciate it more, and I felt bad that for the last six months I had allowed my mind to be wrapped solely around one person. I was getting over it and his unexplained absence would not faze me.
"Where's Wesley been?" someone asked me.
"He's sick," I said before ordering a Ketel One Lemonade.
"Where's your broski?" someone else asked me later.
"He has to work a lot," I said before getting a refill.
Joey came out on a Thursday and I had it marked on my calendar. Jared and I were proud gay parents and had I been more organized we would have thrown a dinner party.
***
That Friday, Tan Man invited me over to his house for game night and a fashion show. Tan Man has abs and laughs at my jokes and I am waiting to find out he's a serial killer, but until then, I am going to enjoy our time together. He has a house in Uptown and I was intimidated because two other friends were there. The boy was a make-up artist who looked effortlessly amazing and the girl was a fitness trainer. I felt pale and out of shape and awkward, and I didn't want to drink because I was going to drive us to Tangiers (a place I had never heard of, but which was having a fashion show for G-Star Denim! Fun and fancy!).
"Oh, just have one shot of tequila," the girl said.
"Oh, I don't know," I said. "When I have tequila I say things that I don't mean. Well, I mean them, but they're unkind and they shouldn't be said."
THE SALOON – NIGHT
After months of awkwardness, QUINN
is trying to have an adult conversation with JAKEY, who has just had a shot of
Jose Cuervo.
QUINN
I think you’re a very good person
and I am happy to know you and I don’t want you to feel awkward around me.
JAKEY
I think you and Wesley should
just fuck already.
QUINN
That was crass, Jakey. I am trying to have an adult conversation with you.
JAKEY
I’m sorry. I had tequila.
----END SCENE---
"OK, fine, just one," I obliged. Tan Man turned on his Pandora Station to '90s music, and we enjoyed the Spice Girls. Then "Always Be My Baby" came on.
"This song is kind of sad," Tan Man said. "I think I'll change it."
"If you change Mariah Carey, I will punch you in the dick," I said. "Oh my god! I can't have tequila."
Another friend of Tan Man's came in and she was tall and had alabaster skin and lived in England and was going on a date with a guy who liked to go hunting.
"Oh, he's like a broski?" Tan Man laughed. "Jakey! How's your broski?"
Tan Man ordered a car, but they could only take four passengers, so I went with Tan Man's friend and he and the girls met us later at Tangiers. It had fun ambiance, and I recognized the receptionist from Jungle Red! Mercifully, she did not ask me how my nether regions were feeling. I would later find out that three of my co-workers were there that night, but I didn't see them! We kept the theme of fanciness by going to Jetset.
I never feel like myself at Jetset, and was hoping to run into Under Armour or Local Celebrity (I never talk to Local Celebrity, but he is dreamy and somehow his presence calms me). I didn't, but I ran into Cooper and Robin, the latter of whom was throwing a Sadie Hawkins party in a few weeks.
Remember when Kevin and I went to the Daisy Duke/Sadie Hawkins party last year? Well, I was invited again, and immediately asked Kevin on Facebook if he wanted to go with me. A Sadie Hawkins dance in high school is when girls ask the boys (I, um, never got asked. Go figure!), so it was my understanding that a gay Sadie Hawkins party is when gay boys ask more masculine boys to be their dates. I was greatly looking forward to it, and I knew that Joey, Quinn and Chuck would be attending as well.
"I'm excited for the party!" I told Robin. "I'm bringing a date. His name is Kevin. He was at the party last year."
"I don't know him," Robin said. "But that's totally cool."
Tan Man met us at Jetset, and I felt fancy like a Target corporate gay.
Previously on Loring Park: Jakey went crazy! A one-man show turned into an ensemble comedy! And Pride weekend was looming ...
OK, so here's the deal. I miss this blog. I miss all of you. I miss the deep episodes with funny moments that encapsulated my best and worst evenings.
But I can't do the summer justice, because I am already three months behind. The memories will be too faded if I try to write them in the format of our previous 31 episodes. So let's buckle up and recap summer 2013, RAPID FIRE. This is going to take us from June to August, and then by Episode #33 we can be back to normal.
JUNE
1. The read-through for They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They? went swimmingly, even though I still didn't have a Jayden (twink character) and my original Randy (closeted hypermasculine broski who is not based on anybody I know) bailed out after the first reading. In a delicious twist of irony, the only gay guy he knew was Prince Eric, who was the guy that came to Kevin's apartment last summer on the first of many nights that he made me feel stupid.
2. Wesley and I went to The Saloon and he was mad at Quinn and Quinn was mad at him and then Quinn got mad at me and texted me "You should disappear for a while". I was now in a gay Mario Puzo novel. I thought I would feel a sense of victory, considering that when Wesley chose Quinn I spent an entire Sunday crying on my toilet while reading The Glass Castle, but I mainly felt bummed.
3. I ran into Under Armour and his friend Miles, who is a dreamy Nordic sex god. With a smile on his face, Miles told me all about how he still has a torch for Under Armour, and I was like oh my god, gay broski's can have feelings too! I told him to give me a hug and maybe he would feel better. It didn't, but I told him to hug me three more times. You can't shame the shameless.
4. We re-cast the broski! The actor came in wearing a douchey Nike T-shirt and I was sold! I met the twink actor through an actress who I "worked" with when I rehearsed a play for eight months that never happened. We met in Loring Park. I felt bad because he was approaching the role with a very serious actor's perspective -- What is his motivation? What is his back story? -- and I could only tell him that his character was a carefree babygay.
5. Joey, Jared and I reunited with Sina, who was visiting from Los Angeles! I made us take a cab because I was all sweaty thanks to wearing dress clothes, as I assumed Sina would expect nothing less. I was disappointed when I found out she was wearing sexy casualness. Nevertheless, I was not only happy to see her but also happy to be at the Gay '90s, because they have a big giant fan for the drag queens to cook their make-up, and I surreptitiously used it to stop being a sweat monster when it wasn't otherwise occupied.
6. A picture of my dick ended up on my Facebook for three hours before it finally got deleted. DO NOT ASK ME WHY I HAD A DICK PIC ON MY PHONE. I am not Anthony Weiner. I was only sending it to one person. Anygay, I was walking through the park while Facebook chatting, and I dropped my phone in the mud, and it uploaded to Facebook every picture that I had on file. My very own sex scandal! I panicked at The Saloon as Liam and I failed to delete it from my phone. I took a cab to the 19, where my friends Bjorn and Jody were savvy enough to take it down. They don't make a card that says "Thank You For Staring My Penis Picture in the Face and Deleting it as I Had a Meltdown at The 19", but if they did, I would frame it and give it to Jody.
It was the worst thing ever!
One of my gal pals from college was like, "That was your penis?"
Under Armour told me it was impressive.
It was not the worst thing ever but it was still quite awful!
Kevin showed up at The 19 and was his usual Hollister dreaminess. We went to The Saloon, where everyone was being really nice to me. Go figure. As we left the bar, we found ourselves guiding a bachelorette party from Winnipeg to their hotel. It was raining that sexy summer rain, where it's light and misty. I enjoyed myself because I was with five fun girls, and learned all of their names. Kevin, on the other hand, got stuck navigating with Celine, who was the bitchy maid of honor that refused to listen to his directions. The nice girls in my posse told me we could have shots when we got to their room.
"Is he your boyfriend?" they kept asking. I blushed and did not really answer. We arrived at The Hotel Minneapolis and one of the bridesmaids began to pour me Ketel One. There was a random girl sleeping in the bed who was happy to have male visitors. Kevin sat across from her on the other queen bed.
"Hey," she smiled. "You're cute. What's your name?"
"Kevin," he said. "Kevin," she repeated. Oh, dear. This poor girl.
"You guys have to leave!" Celine yelled. "I'm tired!"
"Celine!" one of my new gal pals cried. "These boys walked us all the way here! I said they could have shots!"
"No!" Celine yelled. "We have to get up early!"
Then Celine took off her shirt and then she took off her bra. The theme of this evening was apparently nudity. "Look!" she cried. "My tits are out! This means you have to leave!"
"I don't really care," I said as I sipped the drink that was promised to me. "Gay guys aren't repulsed by breasts."
"Are you gay, too?" the girl in bed asked Kevin. He nodded affirmatively and I could hear her heart crack.
Kevin and I eventually left, and we got a cab back to my apartment. We knew we couldn't stay there because I do not have air conditioning and Kevin hates my apartment anyway. We called Blue & White but they wouldn't give us an estimate of their arrival, so Kevin scoffed, huffed and puffed and we called a town car to drive us to his house. The car arrived promptly, but the price they gave us was $20 higher than what we were told, so Kevin did not leave a tip.
We sat in his gazebo and watched the rain and I showed him the script of the play I wrote and for the first time in our complicated friendship, I think he realized that I was more than just an underachieving and unaccomplished airhead.
"He just left me," he said, and the tears on his face mixed with the rain. "There was never a warning
"Did you wake up crying?" I asked. I have never had a failed relationship, but I did wake up crying.
He nodded.
"Me, too," I said. Then I started crying, too.
In the morning he put on a red Hollister shirt and a white baseball cap. "Let's get breakfast," he smiled.
"You look so broski right now," I grinned. Then I pulled him back in bed.
7. I was sick with this cough that wouldn't go away so I went back to my doctor, who is dreamy. He looks like the husband in a Lifetime movie. He prescribed me Prednisone, but he told me he was worried because "you are already pretty squirelly." I did not know squirelly could be used to describe anybody over the age of ten. I was glad he said that, as I used it for the two stand-up gigs I had in June, which were at CAMP Bar and at The Portland Emporium. The latter venue is a house that comedians live in and they turn the living room into a stage. It was hotter than hell but it was also awesome. I wore my new Joe's Jeans.
8. Quinn reached out to me and apologized, and I was proud of the both of us for acting like grown-ups in the situation. I know I talk way too much like I'm a Bravo Housewive, but we will always be in the same "circles", and it was important for us to be in the same room and not want to strangle each other.
9. I went to DJ Flip Phone, which is every month at Honey! The theme for June was PRIDE 1999, and I was jealous of someone who had a pouka shell necklace, in part because I was trying to track one down for the play (there was a character based on Kevin). Wesley was at The Saloon and was bitching at me to get there, even though I told him I was going to Flip Phone. Cooper gave me a ride there under the provision that I paid for his cover. Good enough!
I got to The Saloon and was wearing my LOVE IS OVERRATED t-shirt. Chuck had tied it into a knot so it was a tacky midriff belly shirt, which was fun for comedic reasons, but I couldn't get it undone. I'm sure I looked ridiculous. Wesley was angry because he can be out of his comfort zone when I am not there. "You look like a fucking faggot," he hissed. This is indefensible, but it is Wesley, so I will try to defend it anyway and say that he does not like when I dress that way because it represents an overt expression of sexuality that he cannot have in his life.
Or maybe he just thinks I'm disgusting.
I chose to go to the patio and talk to Football Guy. I always thought Football Guy's name was David Lopez, and it turns out his real name sounds nothing like David Lopez. Maybe it was a dream. Football Guy's boyfriend kept staring daggers at me, which made no sense because his boyfriend has abs that could be put in a museum. He was clearly not going to be leaving with my scrawny vanilla goodness. Calm down, girl.
Then Wesley grabbed my phone and texted awful things to Quinn from it. I was MORTIFIED because Quinn and I had just made peace! Quinn told me the next day that he figured it was Wesley and not me because of the horrible syntax and grammar, and I was relieved.
10. "You know he's unfixable."
11. He is mad at the world, and I am the world.
12. June ended with PRIDE WEEKEND!!!
I got the whole weekend off. I LOVE MY JOB I LOVE MY JOB I LOVE MY JOB. I knew it was going to be exceptional this year, because Joey is my neighbor now and we would be close to all the action. I was pleasantly surprised to see Wesley on Friday night, as when I first re-connected with him several months ago he told me he wasn't doing any Pride events in fear of being seen. I considered it a small victory for him, even if he was wearing a neon green golf knit. Jared and Joey were there too (natch!), and Wesley encouraged Jared to do the splits, which I thought was his way of trying to apologize for past boorish behavior. It was a night of warm fuzzies, y'all.
"I want to go dance," he said, but we couldn't leave because Mariah Carey was playing!
We danced to "Dreamlover" and if it would have lasted a minute longer, I would have needed CPR.
I left The Saloon that night with Joey and Sprite, along with two creepy dudes who were in the back seat with me and kept making out. And before that, there was a random drunk man sleeping in Sprite's back seat that we didn't even know! Sprite politely asked him to leave and he obliged. Sprite was driving a Ferrari and couldn't figure out how to get out of the parking ramp because he misplaced his ticket. "But I have a $20," he told the parking agent. Joey put his debit card in the machine and then the machine ate it. We mercifully departed from the garage, and Sprite told us he knew of a party in uptown. It started raining, and Sprite was driving fast. When we arrived at the house in uptown, Sprite admitted that he didn't know what house it was or who was having the party or if it was even happening. The three of us slept at Joey's apartment and the next morning, Sprite made 17 different comments about the lack of a couch.
I regrouped to take a nap, and Joey and I went emergency Pride shopping! There were new outfits and liquor to be purchased! It was fun stopping at our workplace, as our colleagues were genuinely supportive of our weekend off. Not to be sacrilegious, but Pride really is like our Christmas.
I wanted to be sure to go to an event for Pride weekend, so I chose Lollipop at the Skyway Lounge. I ended up standing in line next to all the muscle gays and felt unsure of myself. This happens every Pride weekend.
Manila Luzon of RuPaul's Drag Race was performing, and a brazen co-worker of mine instantly took a picture with her. I love it! In a delightful sidebar, her opening drag queen went to a show of mine at the U of M!
Last year at Pride I took a random picture with this super cute boy in the elevator at the Doubletree. I never saw him again but made it my profile picture when I was having a bad day. I saw him at the event and I was right next to him standing by a fan, and instead of saying anything I ran to the bathroom. I wonder why I am single.
Friends were texting me saying I should go to The Saloon, and I assured them I was planning to meet him there, but I wanted to see Manila perform first! I have had a newfound appreciation of RuPaul's Drag Race (I've never watched a full-length episode of it, but I feel like I've watched the whole show via Tumblr), and Manila looked amazing. Plus, she's from Minneapolis! Represent! I also loved that she mentioned appearing out of drag to see Raja the previous night at First Avenue. Queens supporting other queens gives me a warm fuzzy.
I was heading out when I ran into Kevin! He told me he was staying at the Doubletree. Running into him was a delightful surprise, considering that he refers to The Saloon as "the zoo".
But to the zoo I went! Jared and Joey were there again, as was Wesley and his friend Howie. Howie is twinky and attractive, and has always been nice to me. I was mature, except when we were all in line and I told a boy next to me that Wesley is in love with me and just needs to get over me. Oh! There's another new character! A boy named Hugh!
Hugh was seeing Joey for a few weeks but he wanted things to be serious and Joey didn't. He is young (younger than Joey even) and didn't know any better. He came into work once and gave Joey a rose, and I pouted because the only thing the boys I like have ever given me is a headache. I said hello to him as I waited two hours to find an empty bathroom. I reunited with Wesley and Howie near the stage. "He has a crush on you," Howie said, but I rolled my eyes and paid no attention to it. It was triangle communication. It was unnecessary. It was confusing. I went to the dance floor where I ran into Football Guy! I hoped to be an adult and say more than five words this time.
"Football player!" I cried.
"Comedian!" he yelled. I was good at this. "Your eyes are so blue," I whispered.
"What?!"
"NOTHING!"
"Hey," he smiled. "Is that broski still giving you trouble?" Oh my god! Why am I always talking about broski when I am drunk? It must have been the night he called me a faggot.
"No, he's fine," I said.
"Okay," Football Guy smiled. "I'll beat him up for you if you need me to."
"DON'T!" I cried. "You probably could. He's up to your chest but he's built pretty solid."
I went home close to 3, and Kevin called asking if I wanted to stop at his room. I was wired so I accepted his offer. I took a bike cab because I thought it would be cheap, but it turns out it was a special event so they charged me $30 or something insane like that. I paid anyway, because Pride Weekend money is like Las Vegas money.
Kevin was staying in a room with three beds in it (a double and two singles) with a hallway separating the singles. His friend Raymond was sleeping in the other single bed, and two dudes were passed out in the double. Why was I even here? It was so late!
I don't even remember what we discussed, and I refused to take my shirt off because I had been excessively attempting to shave my chest and I was a red, blotchy unsexy mess. I still enjoyed myself because spooning is an American pastime. However, I had to get up early because I was going to watch the parade from the rooftop the next morning with Liam and Cagefighter. Ryan Robertson briefly showed up to grab some alcohol. You see everybody during Pride weekend!
I woke up with a sense of urgency in the morning. It was time for the parade and brunch, the best two things in the world! "I have to go!" I cried to Kevin, who is always a zombie in the morning. "Aren't you gonna watch the parade?"
"Mmmmmmffffffggghhh," he responded.
"Well, it was good to see you," I said. "Give me a kiss." I surprised the both of us with the level of my directness, but at least the boy reciprocated.
I sprinted outside of the hotel and the actor who was playing the broski in They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They? was outside of the hotel! I said hello, but had to be terse as I was already running late and I didn't want to keep Cagefighter waiting. I brazenly chose to wear a cut-off midriff shirt and Quiksilver short shorts as if I had the body for it. I met Cagefighter and Liam on the rooftop of Union, and we could barely see anything. We ended up going to Chambers and spent most of the parade getting drunk indoors. It was just like Stonewall, you guys.
Liam went to vamoose with others, and I was to spend the afternoon in the park with Cagefighter. Unfortunately, I totally ruined what was supposed to be a sexy afternoon. First, I had to pee every five seconds. Then I was convinced I had a urinary tract infection and then I was convinced I had a sexually transmitted disease even though I hadn't actually been engaging in that kind of behavior. Then my eyes started watering to the point that I couldn't see and Cagefighter had to guide me around Loring Park like a seeing-eye dog. He eventually got tired of me, and I didn't blame him. I took some eye drops, bought the pills that make your pee neon orange, and took a nap. I briefly went back to the park, where I ran into Becks! We discussed my Internet porn career and then his friend told me my penis looked like it had an infection, and then I told his friend to shut the fuck up. On a lighter note, I ran into my uncle Ander and enjoyed a light dinner with him, his girlfriend and a delightful lesbian couple. I felt truly lucky that during Pride weekend I could enjoy the company of both my gay family and my real family, as not everyone in my circle has that.
OK, so here's how disgusting I am. I had no clean underwear. I first went to The Saloon with no underwear, but my undercarriage was sweating profusely and I could not enjoy myself. I know, you guys. I am disgusting. I walked back to my apartment and mercifully found a clean pair. At that point, Peter had texted me and I decided I would wait until he came to my apartment. I was so excited to see him, as he was soon going to move to the East Coast for school. Also joining us was the actor playing the twink in the show. We pre-gamed at my apartment and didn't leave until midnight. Wesley was at The Saloon and was upset that I was taking so long, but that was par for the course at this point.
We got to The Saloon and Wesley was talking to a policeman. He saw my outfit and looked like he was about to hurl.
"You look like a 12-year-old girl," he said. "You look absolutely ridiculous." "Excuse me?" I cried. "It is Pride Weekend." I looked just fine in my midriff shirt and camo short shorts. Wesley, on the other hand, was in a golf knit and what I can only describe as "dad shorts". "You look ridiculous."
Wesley's demeanor was upsetting me, so I ditched him and had a tequila shot with Cagefighter. I honestly didn't need to be with him that night. This was to be a night of fun and mingling, and his cranky pants were not going to bring me down.
I took pictures with my disposable camera (a Pride tradition!) and was happy to pose with Peter and Under Armour and random hot shirtless guys. My new tradition was to boo whenever a hot guy put his shirt back on. Peter and I continued to mingle when we ran into Kevin!
"Kevin!" I cried. "I thought you were going back home!" "No, we got a room downtown," he said. "You guys should come after this."
"Okay," I giggled, because Kevin turns me into a teenager. There was a random short man he was talking to, but I was too full of pride to roll my eyes.
After The Saloon shut down and Pride was sadly over, Peter and I found ourselves in Kevin's swanky hotel room. His friend Raymond was in the bed again. Peter revealed his newfound BANGIN' body and talked about his exercise routine. At one point he mentioned that he benched 120 for 10 reps. I sat down next to him.
"Do it!" I joked. But then he actually did it.
"Let go of me!" Peter yelled. "I can actually do it!"
"I'm gonna fall on you and kill you!" I cried. But nope, that boy was able to bench me ten times, and Raymond cracked up.
Peter found himself, erm -- canoodling with Raymond, at which point the awkward short man came to the room. Kevin always does this. I swear, we would be at the altar and he would be like, "Oh, Jakey, this is Corey. He's gonna be my weekend husband. That's cool, right?" COMMENCE EYE ROLL.
Still, I wanted to be nice and hear the short guy's story. Turns out he was an amateur photographer. He told us he photographed both nature and porn. Um, okay, then. I just started drinking more. He mentioned something about holding grudges.
"Are you a Cancer?" I asked.
"I don't need to tell you," the short guy said.
"Really?" I asked. "I innocuously was inquiring about your zodiac sign because holding grudges is a typical trait of them. You're acting like I asked for your goddamned Social Security number."
Kevin's mouth was moving, almost as if he was trying to prevent a smile.
"Well, I'm sorry," the guy said. "I didn't know it was such a big deal to you."
"I don't really care," I said. "I was bored and was trying to make myself interested in this conversation."
"Jakey, why don't you go to bed?" Kevin asked.
"Ugh, fine," I whined, and I crawled into his bed.
"So, you're sure you're straight?" Kevin asked the gross photographer.
"Yeah," lied the gross photographer.
"But you've been tempted before?" Kevin asked.
I WAS NOT DOING THIS AGAIN. I had done this enough times. I was not going to lie in bed while Kevin banged this photographer.
"I'm leaving," I announced as I stormed out of bed.
"What, it's 4:30 in the morning----?" Kevin said.
"Whatever," I said. "Have a good night. Peace out."
I slammed the door behind me, ready to do the walk of shame down Nicollet Avenue.
It was 4:30 in the morning, as Kevin said, and there was glitter all over the sidewalk. There was also nary a soul. It was just me. I felt like I was in a gay zombie horror movie. I began to feel nervous and vulnerable in my midriff shirt and short camo shorts. Wesley was right. I did look ridiculous. Also, I think I left my keys in that asshole Kevin's hotel room.
Mercifully, I ran into Victor at an intersection.
"Jakey," he said. "Is that you?"
"Yes," I said. "Is this real life, Victor? Are we dreaming?"
"I can't find my hotel," he said. "I'm staying at The Millennium."
"I know where that is," I said. "I will take you there."
I slept in his bed. I would have spooned him but he had glitter all over his body, and glitter takes forever to get out of anything (I still had some on my face for a week after Pride, and I tried my best to avoid those full of it).
I woke the next morning, frantically calling Peter and Kevin. Neither was answering their phones. I decided to walk back to the fancy hotel, which was connected to a tower in the skyway. It was now Monday. Most of Minneapolis was in business attire. I, on the other hand, was still rocking my midriff shirt and camo short shorts. I was supporting the troops, god dammit.
They still didn't answer when I got to the Marquette Hotel, so I walk-of-shamed all the way down Nicollet Avenue again, and had to be let into my apartment by the building managers. I was preparing to write a check to replace my keys when Peter called! He had my keys! And he and Kevin were still at the hotel! I agreed to drive us to the after-Pride party at Lawrence's houses, which is a bigger deal than the damn parade.
The after-pride party is when Lawrence hosts all of Minneapolis at his house, and you basically drink more than you do during the weekend, but it is still called the Recovery Party. Just go with it.
I went over details with Peter first, and then, because I am a teenager, I asked if Kevin banged the short photographer.
"Oh, no, honey," Peter said. "That boy slept on the couch."
"He didn't even get the bed?" I asked. "They didn't even snuggle?" "Nope. Boy got couched."
I still had to smooth things over with Kevin, so I called him as well.
"I didn't realize you were so upset," he said.
"I was projecting," I said. "I was still mad about somebody else."
"Who?"
"You told me to stop talking about him, so I don't want to bring him up."
"Well, I forget."
"The broski."
"Oh, yes. Him. Yeah, I don't like when you talk about him. It makes me .. oddly jealous."
Kevin and Raymond went to the recovery party on their own, but Peter and I had to run errands! We had to change clothes, buy underwear because my lazy ass still hadn't done laundry, take showers, stop to get his paycheck, and buy food and drinks for the party to be good guests! I was proud of us that we got there before 5 P.M., and even used blonde ambition to get from St. Paul to North Minneapolis on a quicker route than our GPS was sending us on.
"Your boyfriend is here," Liam was texting me.
"Which one?" I asked, but I knew he meant Kevin.
It was a bit awkward when we first arrived because Chuck was there. I wouldn't have said that Chuck and I had been fighting lately, but he was getting frustrated with my constant state of Kevin Kevin Kevin Wesley Wesley Wesley, and I was worried he would be upset that I arrived with Peter. Everything ended up okay, and with Peter's blessing, I went up to Chuck first.
"Your boyfriend is here," Chuck laughed. "He's not my boyfriend," I said, and I looked over at Kevin, who was standing by the fence with strangers, smoking a Merit. His gut was protruding. He didn't use to smoke.
"Yep," I said. "That's my hubby."
Peter and I went to go make cocktails.
"Hurry up!" I cried. "I want to go flirt with Kevin."
"What?" Kevin asked, who was right behind me.
"God dammit," I said. "Hi, how are you?"
I continued flirting and mingling, but Kevin soon voiced that he wanted to go home. To be fair, it was almost 7:00 and he had been there for five hours, the first three of which were without me.
"Okay," I said. "It was good to see you."
"Can't you drive me home?" he asked.
"Ugh, nooooo," I said. "You live so far awayyyyyyy."
"Don't," Peter said. Peter was upset with Kevin because Kevin had spent much of the day boasting about his education and socioeconomic status. I tried to explain that that is because Kevin achieved such education and socioeconomic status with the stack decked against him, but, just as with Wesley, I had to stop apologizing for boorish behavior of the objects of my affection.
"I'll come right back," I said. I was upset, too, because Ryan Robertson had just shown up, and it's like, Pride tradition for me to awkwardly flirt with Ryan Robertson. I also could tell Peter was uncomfortable with being alone with certain people.
"Do you promise?" Peter said.
"Yes," I said, and I meant it.
Kevin and I got to my car.
"I had to get out of there," he said. "TOO MUCH GAYNESS. It was like the gay zoo in there."
"Whatever," I blasted, because I still couldn't believe I was doing this. "You masculine gay men think you're God's gift to the world."
"That's really harsh," he said. "Take that back."
"No," I said, because I was a mature adult.
I took my shirt off in the car because I was roasting. "Will I get sunburned in the car?" I asked. "Really?!" he asked. "You get sunburned any time the sun hits your skin. Wow. I had maybe too high of an opinion of you." "SO RUDE," I said. "I'm driving you all this way." "I don't think you should go back to the party," he said. "I think we should just hang out and drink at my house." "No!" I cried. "I promised Peter I would go back. And I have other friends there." "Is this because I don't have a backwards baseball cap on?" Well-played, Kevin Thomson. Well-played. "You were really mad last night," he said. "It was deja vu all over again," I said. "The very first time I hung out with you at your apartment you pulled that shit where you brought somebody else over. I wasn't gonna deal with it." "Well, you clearly liked me much more than I knew you did," he said. Yepppppppppppp.
"I don't think I can ever have a relationship ever again," he said. "But my mom won't stop raving about you. I really like you, and I know you like me, and I don't know why we don't ever do anything about it."
"And now you're not saying anything."
What I was thinking: Why did this conversation not happen a year ago? Six months ago, even? Yes, I *was* crazy about you, but in January you decided you liked Quinn instead, and that was when I began learning how to let you go. And now there's this other boy in the picture who has cut my heart out and pissed on it. I just can't deal with this right now, broseph!
We clarified his boyfriend situation (his ex-boyfriend still lists them as an item on Facebook because he can't let go. Allegedly.) I told him to not expect full-on intercourse because I don't do that right now. I even used the word intercourse. I know.
I did not go in the house because he forgot he had co-workers over (Kevin is not as closeted the way Wesley is, but I don't think he is openly gay at his workplace, which I understand and respect). I got out of the car and couldn't stop smiling. What the what. I said I would come to his Fourth of July party.
"I'm over parties like the one I was at today," I said. "I love them!" I said."I'm social! Say hi to your mom." "See!" he cried. "Exactly!"
I stopped at the liquor store on the way home and took a cab back to the party. I sat across from someone who was telling a story, and I made the mistake of trying to dive in.
"This is an A-B conversation," he hissed.
"Well, you're a real C," is the response that I thought of four days later. I would find myself seated across from the only asshole at the recovery party. Shade is for lounging, even in the summertime.
A friend who works at CVS graciously agreed to develop my disposable camera for me. Peter and I cabbed back home to Loring Park and ordered sandwiches. I gave him my Gucci jacket as a going-away present, because I looked okay in it, but that boy just looked bangin'.
Next week: We recap July! I turn a year older! So does America! And will the show go on?
