Late Friday night/early Saturday morning, my friend Maria called me, after getting off the phone with her boyfriend Ray (aka The Bad Kisser). They had just finished having, yet, another one of their dramatic phone calls and Maria needed someone to help her vent. Ray was spending the summer back in his hometown of Philadelphia with his family and I think the distance between them was starting to get to Maria. Of course, being the strong, independent person that she is, Maria would never admit it. She would just complain about it.
I was already half-asleep when she called, and was only half-listening, until Maria said, that I was actually the source of a lot of their problems. In almost every argument they she and Ray had, I was always brought up. Ray couldnt see how I could be friends with Maria without wanting to have sex with her. He couldnt see how people of the opposite sex could remain nothing more than just friends, without there being any sexual tension. He couldnt understand that sometimes, people move past the point of dating, and just settle as friends. And the fact that I really didnt wanna hang out with both him and Maria together, only added to his suspicions that I was after his girlfriend (apparently, Ray also couldnt understand he was a horrible public kisser, which really was the real reason for my absense).
Unsure of what to do, I decided to ask my friend Madelaine. It was Saturday afternoon and we were driving up to Glendale, on our way to go see Madonna in concert. After getting our groove on to Robert Holmes' classic summer song, Escape, Madelaine suggested that we both pose as boyfriend and girlfriend to help our good friend Maria. But could the simple pressence of a person on your arm, give the illusion of a couple? I wasnt so sure, but according to Madelaine, it could. Maybe by showing Ray that I was already "taken," he would be less threatened of Maria's friendship with me. And maybe, by arriving at the concert with a girl on my arm, I wouldnt get hit on, at was to be undoubtably the hottest gay spot in Arizona.
Totally worked like a charm. Though the concert arena was filled with the hottest people Arizona had to offer, not a single one of them flirted, talked or even gave us a second look. Wait. That doesnt sound right, does it? Hmmmm. The concert was a total eye-opening, jaw-dropping experience! As expected, Madonna turned up the heat, both literally and figurativly. After raising the arena to a boiling temperature of 90 degrees, Madge, in all her equestrian glory, descended from a giant, disco ball covered with $2 million in crystals, onto the stage. And as expected, everyone was pumped and sweating outrageously, grinding their crotches on one another. It was kinda like the softcore porn they show on Showtime. If it werent for the hard, chisled, adonis-like male patrons, the whole thing would have actually been kinda hot.
The next afternoon, after a late-night-breakfast of In-N-Out cheeseburgers, I checked my answering machine, only to hear an unwanted familiar voice:
Hello? David? It's me. Paul? Yeah. Hi. Uh, I'm just calling to say that, I, uh, I get it. I get it, you know? I'm here at the Madonna concert and I just saw you right now with your girlfriend, and I get it. Yeah, so, anyways, I was just calling to let you know I wont be calling you anymore. Ok? Take care and...bye.
It was understanding at first sight. Maybe, there was some magic in Madelaine's illusion idea, after all. And if the presence of Madelaine on my arm could help make my ex-gay-non-boyfriend-stalker disappear, maybe it could help Ray get rid of his suspicions and understand that some relationships between people are more than just sex. Or is it wrong to help change people? After all if we can't accept who they are, how can we expect them to accept who we are?
I was already half-asleep when she called, and was only half-listening, until Maria said, that I was actually the source of a lot of their problems. In almost every argument they she and Ray had, I was always brought up. Ray couldnt see how I could be friends with Maria without wanting to have sex with her. He couldnt see how people of the opposite sex could remain nothing more than just friends, without there being any sexual tension. He couldnt understand that sometimes, people move past the point of dating, and just settle as friends. And the fact that I really didnt wanna hang out with both him and Maria together, only added to his suspicions that I was after his girlfriend (apparently, Ray also couldnt understand he was a horrible public kisser, which really was the real reason for my absense).
Unsure of what to do, I decided to ask my friend Madelaine. It was Saturday afternoon and we were driving up to Glendale, on our way to go see Madonna in concert. After getting our groove on to Robert Holmes' classic summer song, Escape, Madelaine suggested that we both pose as boyfriend and girlfriend to help our good friend Maria. But could the simple pressence of a person on your arm, give the illusion of a couple? I wasnt so sure, but according to Madelaine, it could. Maybe by showing Ray that I was already "taken," he would be less threatened of Maria's friendship with me. And maybe, by arriving at the concert with a girl on my arm, I wouldnt get hit on, at was to be undoubtably the hottest gay spot in Arizona.
Totally worked like a charm. Though the concert arena was filled with the hottest people Arizona had to offer, not a single one of them flirted, talked or even gave us a second look. Wait. That doesnt sound right, does it? Hmmmm. The concert was a total eye-opening, jaw-dropping experience! As expected, Madonna turned up the heat, both literally and figurativly. After raising the arena to a boiling temperature of 90 degrees, Madge, in all her equestrian glory, descended from a giant, disco ball covered with $2 million in crystals, onto the stage. And as expected, everyone was pumped and sweating outrageously, grinding their crotches on one another. It was kinda like the softcore porn they show on Showtime. If it werent for the hard, chisled, adonis-like male patrons, the whole thing would have actually been kinda hot.
The next afternoon, after a late-night-breakfast of In-N-Out cheeseburgers, I checked my answering machine, only to hear an unwanted familiar voice:
Hello? David? It's me. Paul? Yeah. Hi. Uh, I'm just calling to say that, I, uh, I get it. I get it, you know? I'm here at the Madonna concert and I just saw you right now with your girlfriend, and I get it. Yeah, so, anyways, I was just calling to let you know I wont be calling you anymore. Ok? Take care and...bye.
It was understanding at first sight. Maybe, there was some magic in Madelaine's illusion idea, after all. And if the presence of Madelaine on my arm could help make my ex-gay-non-boyfriend-stalker disappear, maybe it could help Ray get rid of his suspicions and understand that some relationships between people are more than just sex. Or is it wrong to help change people? After all if we can't accept who they are, how can we expect them to accept who we are?
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