The History Of The Month, Part Three!
I arrived in Portland, Maine at 3 o’clock that Saturday afternoon. My friend Jon (aka "Pizza Delivery Boy") picked me up at the bus station and we drove around Portland and smoked a bowl. It was weird because instantly after arriving in Portland, I felt almost immediately at home. Part of the reason I left Portland in the first place was because I was so comfortable there. I knew it was a place I’d become complacent in ... most people might use the word "happy" ... but complacent seems to fit me more. (Plus I think it’s become my "word of the week.")
After driving and smoking, and shooting the shit with Jon (all while listening to his CD compilations of Mary Wilson, and En Vogue) he dropped me off at Friendly’s. I was excited to pop in and surprise my old co-workers and friends.
I’m not sure why I was surprised that so many faces had changed. It was Friendly’s ... we usually had a revolving door of staff members. It was good to see that no matter how things changed, they still stayed the same.
I’d made arrangements to hang out with some of my friends at Margaritas that night. Margaritas was always my meeting place for eating and drinking and talking with friends during my time in Portland, so it made sense that’s where I’d want to gather them all for a night of hangin’ out.
I’d left countless messages for my friend Mindy (or "Super Mindy" as she’s known to us) but she’d not called me back all day. Now you have to understand that Mindy is one of the sweetest, kindest girls you’d ever meet ... and the bitch wasn’t calling me back.
Finally at 6, after I’d been sitting in Friendly’s for almost an hour, my phone rings. "MINDY" says the caller ID.
I answer, "Oh my god! I was so worried about you!"
The sweet childlike voice responds, "How does it feel when people don’t return your phone calls!"
"You SKANK WHORE!" I yell into the phone.
Girl made her point, oh yes she did! Maybe I should get a little better at calling people back sooner.
I went to Blackstones (the local troll bar) and had a few beers (OK, a few pitchers) while waiting for my friends to meet up for Margaritas. Finally about 9:30, Adam picked me up at Blackstones and he and I went to meet Mindy and April for drinks and some chips & salsa.
Mmmmmmmmm.... chips and salsa.
Afterwards we headed to Styxx, the local gay club. As I was walking in (looking fierce in Pink I might add) I saw one of the tired faggots from the "Portland Crowd" ...
"What happened?" He crowed. "New York chew you up and spit you out?"
"No, I thought it might just be nice to come back and visit some people." I snapped back. "You aren’t on the list."
And with that I headed into the club with my friends. Inside I ran into a few people I know, smiled, acknowledged their presences but maintained the "I’m a New Yorker again, and I have no time for your skank asses" air about me. With few exceptions, most of the Portland fags deserve this sort of attitude.
While taking a pee break (in the bathroom, I’m not a savage!) I encountered someone who was wearing my exact same pink shirt. As I had bought it in NYC at a store that doesn’t have that many non-NYC locations, I found it rather coincidental. I found it even more so when the boy turned to me and I realized it was a former fling. I demanded he take the shirt off right there. He demanded the same. We compromised by randomly making out in front of everyone for a few minutes, until finally my friends grabbed me by the ear and announced we were going to the straight club down the street.
There I ran into an old co-worker, Andrea. Andrea was known for being a fairly devout Christian, and so it was funny that when I saw her she was dancing on a guys lap, looking fairly intoxicated. We hugged and chatted for a few minutes and she went back to her lapdance.
It occurred to me (around 1:30 in the morning) that I hadn’t yet gotten a hold of my old roommates, and therefore was uncertain about where I’d stay that night. One person I’d also wanted to see that night was my ex-boyfriend Jason, so I thought perhaps I’d kill two birds with one stone.
Jason, Jason, Jason. An absolutely wonderful human being, with a heart of gold. But equally as mentally ill as he is kind. One of the things I always admired about Jason though, was that he was going to school to study to be a social worker or some similar position helping people with problems similar to his own. He not only had a desire to understand and control his own problems, but to help other people who were similarly afflicted. But... our relationship didn’t work out. In part it was because it started just as I was moving back to NYC, and also in part because there were some fundamental differences that I didn’t think we’d ever be able to resolve.
But nonetheless Jason was someone I had a deep love for and always wished the best for. So ... I headed to his house that night, and we sat up and talked for hours. It was just like the late night chats we used to have. I’d show up at his house later then planned, and he’d be pissy for a few minutes. Then he’d give in to being happy to see me, and we’d smoke a cigarette and play with his snakes. (Literally, he has two very large ball-pythons) Then we’d adjourn to the kitchen, where he’d fix us a bowl of cereal.
While chatting he mentioned a boyfriend. I asked questions, but was stonewalled, so I decided not to push it. After hanging out for a bit, we went to bed. Cuddling with Jason was always one of the most relaxing and peaceful things to me. There was something about the way that our bodies just fit together while we laid in bed. The way we’d hold each other like we meant it, not like two people who were just going through the motions. His bedroom also provided a peaceful atmosphere, and he’d usually sprinkle jasmine on the bed to provide a peaceful air that lent itself to sleep and pleasant dreams.
The next morning we woke up and my time with Jason came full circle. The last time I’d seen Jason, before leaving for NY, we’d gone for a walk through the woods, to the local community garden, where Jason loved to grow things. When we’d visited it last, winter was just ending, and there was little to see. This time Jason’s plants and flowers were in full bloom and thriving. It’s something that Jason spent a lot of time, energy and love on, and it was nice to see it doing well. I got the feeling that Jason wasn’t doing as well. I noticed that he seemed more focused on the "evils of man" then he used to be. More submerged into the thoughts of his snakes, and mice and plants then into the thoughts of the people around him. It’s in part because people have disappointed him so much I suppose... But in a larger part due to the mental illness which I fear has a stronger grip on him then before. I hope I’m wrong about this ... I truly want the best for this boy.
My old partner-in-crime from Denny’s, Kimmy, picked me up at Jason’s. Now when Kimmy and I work together at Denny’s we had nicknames for each other. I was "Goldfish" because, as Kimmy put it, my memory was like the memory of one. They apparently can retain things in their brain for about 5 seconds, and often times the same can be said of me. I, in turn, took to calling her the first thing that came into my head: "Seacow." (Kimmy’s a knockout even at a young 17, so no personal harm was meant, though I admit to taking some joy in the fact that she was never quite sure of that.) I also used to tease Kimmy that she really "put the ho in hostess" ... Good comedy indeed.
Kimmy and I drove around debating what to do for a while, and then finally picked up our mutual friend Eric. Through the years that Eric and I knew each other, we’d gone through many stages. At first I had a crush on him. Then we became friends. Then he did something that hurt me terribly and I was just catty to him from that point on. A few months ago that also came full circle, when he did something that in my mind put to rest forever the issue that had kept us from being closer friends. Eric’s truly a good guy, beneath many layers of drunken, foolish and obnoxious behavior. (Hmm...sound like anyone we know?!)
Eric was WASTED when we picked him up, and an amusing evening at the Olive Garden followed. Following that was a drive around Maine, catching up with Kimmy while Eric went in and out of consciousness in the backseat. Afterwards we headed to Styxx for karaoke, with Adam, Jon and a rather annoying friend of Eric’s who I just find reprehensible. (Anybody think that perhaps I didn’t tell him so?! Oh no, I DID!)
After the bar I stopped at my old house. Jack, my favorite of my old roommates came out and sat on the front steps with me. We shot the shit and smoked a joint ... and I flashed back to the life I had there in Portland... and how happy I really was there. New York was an adventure. New York was where I needed to be to be alive and to thrive... but Portland, more so then anywhere else I ever lived felt like a second home. Somewhere I’d like to visit a lot, and keep strong ties for myself.
I spent the night at Eric’s that night. I slept in bed next to him and briefly pondered the idea of initiating something... You see, I could see that in some alternate universe where Eric and I had both gotten past some of our issues and grown up a bit, that we might actually not be all that incompatible. When I spend time with Eric, I tend to realize that a bit. (Though I’d never in a million years show it!) But I thought better of it. I decided that friends are something that last a lot longer... and Eric and I hadn’t even really perfected "friendship" yet ... so probably best to leave well enough alone. I fell asleep, having had a wonderful weekend and feeling completely rejuvenated from the sadness of the weeks past. I didn’t see everyone that I wanted to see or do everything that I wanted to do ... but I had found the peace I was looking for to go back and fight the good fight in New York once again.
I didn’t know then what the next week had in store for me ... and how good it was that I’d taken the trip when I did, because I was going to need all the positive energy I could muster when I got back to life in the Big Apple....
But, more about that in The History Of The Month, Part Four! :)
After driving and smoking, and shooting the shit with Jon (all while listening to his CD compilations of Mary Wilson, and En Vogue) he dropped me off at Friendly’s. I was excited to pop in and surprise my old co-workers and friends.
I’m not sure why I was surprised that so many faces had changed. It was Friendly’s ... we usually had a revolving door of staff members. It was good to see that no matter how things changed, they still stayed the same.
I’d made arrangements to hang out with some of my friends at Margaritas that night. Margaritas was always my meeting place for eating and drinking and talking with friends during my time in Portland, so it made sense that’s where I’d want to gather them all for a night of hangin’ out.
I’d left countless messages for my friend Mindy (or "Super Mindy" as she’s known to us) but she’d not called me back all day. Now you have to understand that Mindy is one of the sweetest, kindest girls you’d ever meet ... and the bitch wasn’t calling me back.
Finally at 6, after I’d been sitting in Friendly’s for almost an hour, my phone rings. "MINDY" says the caller ID.
I answer, "Oh my god! I was so worried about you!"
The sweet childlike voice responds, "How does it feel when people don’t return your phone calls!"
"You SKANK WHORE!" I yell into the phone.
Girl made her point, oh yes she did! Maybe I should get a little better at calling people back sooner.
I went to Blackstones (the local troll bar) and had a few beers (OK, a few pitchers) while waiting for my friends to meet up for Margaritas. Finally about 9:30, Adam picked me up at Blackstones and he and I went to meet Mindy and April for drinks and some chips & salsa.
Mmmmmmmmm.... chips and salsa.
Afterwards we headed to Styxx, the local gay club. As I was walking in (looking fierce in Pink I might add) I saw one of the tired faggots from the "Portland Crowd" ...
"What happened?" He crowed. "New York chew you up and spit you out?"
"No, I thought it might just be nice to come back and visit some people." I snapped back. "You aren’t on the list."
And with that I headed into the club with my friends. Inside I ran into a few people I know, smiled, acknowledged their presences but maintained the "I’m a New Yorker again, and I have no time for your skank asses" air about me. With few exceptions, most of the Portland fags deserve this sort of attitude.
While taking a pee break (in the bathroom, I’m not a savage!) I encountered someone who was wearing my exact same pink shirt. As I had bought it in NYC at a store that doesn’t have that many non-NYC locations, I found it rather coincidental. I found it even more so when the boy turned to me and I realized it was a former fling. I demanded he take the shirt off right there. He demanded the same. We compromised by randomly making out in front of everyone for a few minutes, until finally my friends grabbed me by the ear and announced we were going to the straight club down the street.
There I ran into an old co-worker, Andrea. Andrea was known for being a fairly devout Christian, and so it was funny that when I saw her she was dancing on a guys lap, looking fairly intoxicated. We hugged and chatted for a few minutes and she went back to her lapdance.
It occurred to me (around 1:30 in the morning) that I hadn’t yet gotten a hold of my old roommates, and therefore was uncertain about where I’d stay that night. One person I’d also wanted to see that night was my ex-boyfriend Jason, so I thought perhaps I’d kill two birds with one stone.
Jason, Jason, Jason. An absolutely wonderful human being, with a heart of gold. But equally as mentally ill as he is kind. One of the things I always admired about Jason though, was that he was going to school to study to be a social worker or some similar position helping people with problems similar to his own. He not only had a desire to understand and control his own problems, but to help other people who were similarly afflicted. But... our relationship didn’t work out. In part it was because it started just as I was moving back to NYC, and also in part because there were some fundamental differences that I didn’t think we’d ever be able to resolve.
But nonetheless Jason was someone I had a deep love for and always wished the best for. So ... I headed to his house that night, and we sat up and talked for hours. It was just like the late night chats we used to have. I’d show up at his house later then planned, and he’d be pissy for a few minutes. Then he’d give in to being happy to see me, and we’d smoke a cigarette and play with his snakes. (Literally, he has two very large ball-pythons) Then we’d adjourn to the kitchen, where he’d fix us a bowl of cereal.
While chatting he mentioned a boyfriend. I asked questions, but was stonewalled, so I decided not to push it. After hanging out for a bit, we went to bed. Cuddling with Jason was always one of the most relaxing and peaceful things to me. There was something about the way that our bodies just fit together while we laid in bed. The way we’d hold each other like we meant it, not like two people who were just going through the motions. His bedroom also provided a peaceful atmosphere, and he’d usually sprinkle jasmine on the bed to provide a peaceful air that lent itself to sleep and pleasant dreams.
The next morning we woke up and my time with Jason came full circle. The last time I’d seen Jason, before leaving for NY, we’d gone for a walk through the woods, to the local community garden, where Jason loved to grow things. When we’d visited it last, winter was just ending, and there was little to see. This time Jason’s plants and flowers were in full bloom and thriving. It’s something that Jason spent a lot of time, energy and love on, and it was nice to see it doing well. I got the feeling that Jason wasn’t doing as well. I noticed that he seemed more focused on the "evils of man" then he used to be. More submerged into the thoughts of his snakes, and mice and plants then into the thoughts of the people around him. It’s in part because people have disappointed him so much I suppose... But in a larger part due to the mental illness which I fear has a stronger grip on him then before. I hope I’m wrong about this ... I truly want the best for this boy.
My old partner-in-crime from Denny’s, Kimmy, picked me up at Jason’s. Now when Kimmy and I work together at Denny’s we had nicknames for each other. I was "Goldfish" because, as Kimmy put it, my memory was like the memory of one. They apparently can retain things in their brain for about 5 seconds, and often times the same can be said of me. I, in turn, took to calling her the first thing that came into my head: "Seacow." (Kimmy’s a knockout even at a young 17, so no personal harm was meant, though I admit to taking some joy in the fact that she was never quite sure of that.) I also used to tease Kimmy that she really "put the ho in hostess" ... Good comedy indeed.
Kimmy and I drove around debating what to do for a while, and then finally picked up our mutual friend Eric. Through the years that Eric and I knew each other, we’d gone through many stages. At first I had a crush on him. Then we became friends. Then he did something that hurt me terribly and I was just catty to him from that point on. A few months ago that also came full circle, when he did something that in my mind put to rest forever the issue that had kept us from being closer friends. Eric’s truly a good guy, beneath many layers of drunken, foolish and obnoxious behavior. (Hmm...sound like anyone we know?!)
Eric was WASTED when we picked him up, and an amusing evening at the Olive Garden followed. Following that was a drive around Maine, catching up with Kimmy while Eric went in and out of consciousness in the backseat. Afterwards we headed to Styxx for karaoke, with Adam, Jon and a rather annoying friend of Eric’s who I just find reprehensible. (Anybody think that perhaps I didn’t tell him so?! Oh no, I DID!)
After the bar I stopped at my old house. Jack, my favorite of my old roommates came out and sat on the front steps with me. We shot the shit and smoked a joint ... and I flashed back to the life I had there in Portland... and how happy I really was there. New York was an adventure. New York was where I needed to be to be alive and to thrive... but Portland, more so then anywhere else I ever lived felt like a second home. Somewhere I’d like to visit a lot, and keep strong ties for myself.
I spent the night at Eric’s that night. I slept in bed next to him and briefly pondered the idea of initiating something... You see, I could see that in some alternate universe where Eric and I had both gotten past some of our issues and grown up a bit, that we might actually not be all that incompatible. When I spend time with Eric, I tend to realize that a bit. (Though I’d never in a million years show it!) But I thought better of it. I decided that friends are something that last a lot longer... and Eric and I hadn’t even really perfected "friendship" yet ... so probably best to leave well enough alone. I fell asleep, having had a wonderful weekend and feeling completely rejuvenated from the sadness of the weeks past. I didn’t see everyone that I wanted to see or do everything that I wanted to do ... but I had found the peace I was looking for to go back and fight the good fight in New York once again.
I didn’t know then what the next week had in store for me ... and how good it was that I’d taken the trip when I did, because I was going to need all the positive energy I could muster when I got back to life in the Big Apple....
But, more about that in The History Of The Month, Part Four! :)
posted by Kevin at 4:16 PM
2 Comments:
I'm sorry for what I've done to you, but trust me the bitch had his fear punishment! A cosmic payback I lived a luxurious and dangerous life, the one I wanted, for a bit after we broke-up but then i went hell and back, I went from bad to worse but now I'm picking up my pieces and start back my life from zero in the places I've been happier my fabulous NY. Don't worry there is not BITCH IN TOWN ALERT at least not yet until I take back my sanity completely after knowing how pain changes people.
I hope things for you are better you deserve all the happiness you can get after you tasted my poison and still survived to tell about it . I had no intention to bite. I have a terrible urge to atone not only to you but I can't get my chances. I changed a lot you won't even recognize me I'm bitter, evil dangerous and bed now. You're a good man I want a chance to really be honest with you someday. I never read this blog I wasn't even looking for it I just clicked the wrong page and there it was; a part of my life on the net, just there the hidden feelings my favorite ex which I was desperately wishing to know about 3 years ago, the guy that made my look like Joan Crawford or Lana Turner in those crazy psychological 40's movies. it's kind of weird to look at yourself with someone else's eyes it's seems sort of supernatural, and good and bad at the same time, a new experience who brought me back to those days. About us I have my share of guilt and mistakes but you have yours too, I wanted a man not a son I don't even like kids, and sometime you know you act like one there's an episode in my mind but is better if I shut up. But It happens sometime, quite often really, that I think about you and how life was some thing we did together, the word "smitten" or watching a TV show we've seen together when something funny happens I may have the urge to tell you. But you taught me, or make me remember the most important lesson that once I was really loved and you weren't perfect but now I can tell the difference nobody have ever loved me as you did. And I will always love you and keep you in my heart. And I think we made the mistake not to talk it out or fight for us we didn't have the strength for it.
I wish you luck, love, and complete and total happiness. I miss you both you and NY.
I'll see you both someday, hope it will be soon.
Shane.
P.S. my eyes (thanks for the compliments) Looks even more sad now. Don't let your blue eyes look sad ever again!
Post a Comment
<< Home