It all started a year ago, when my friend Madelaine told everybody at Alice's Downtown Flower Market that Mike Lightyear, owner of Mike's Coffee Shop and LightYear Reality wasn’t really the family man that we all thought he was. He was living a double life as a man on the down low. He was bisexual. Not that it mattered, of course, but it did make for some very interesting entertainment whenever his wife stopped by with their two year old daughter and eight month old son. So when my friend Hadassah told me Mike had a dream that she was yelling at him for yelling at me for yelling at her, I had to wonder why.
Hadassah, who used to be a barista at Mike's Coffee Shop, was recently promoted as Mike's personal secretary and therefore had access to all the upstairs office gossip. Like who was dating whom, what lawyer was walking around naked in the building after hours, and what two people were caught making love in the stairwell, thus prompting the managers of the Frontier Building to install security cameras everywhere. That sorta stuff. The only gossip that Hadassah didn’t know was Mike's sexuality. Obviously, it was something personal that Mike didn’t want Hadassah to know. But if he kept that part of his life from her, did that also mean he kept part of his dream from her too?
That’s what my co-worker Adrianna and I wondered aloud as we talked about Mike and the dream and whether or not Mike had an infatuation with me or if it was purely coincidental because we both worked in the same building. He certainly was hanging around the lobby more often and he was smiling and waving at us more than usual. Before we could come out with a definitive answer, Chamo, the cook who worked next door at The Jungle Square Restaurant, was silently sitting in the lobby, listening to our conversation and immeadiately reported back everything he heard to the restaurant bartender, in front of two employees that worked in the building. Before the day ended, rumors began to speculate all around the building that Mike was trying to hook up with me.
Of course, nobody dared to ask Mike, so they asked me. I couldnt believe how fast word got out about Mike's dream and how so many people believed it. And when I paused for an answer, some people, actually most people, took that as the only answer they needed. I had outed one of Tucson's promienent business men. But it wasnt my fault. I didnt go around and tell people that Mike was bi. But then again, I didnt deny that he was. But was it so bad that the truth had inadvertenly come out?
It wasnt until Super Bowl Sunday when a rumor of my own came out that I wondered just how Mike might feel. I had gone to a party the previous night and came home with more than just a hangover. I came home with a hickey. Actually, it was a little group of hickies. And though they werent my first, they were a little higher on my neck than usual, which made it that much harder to hide. I couldnt wear a turtle neck since it wasnt 1987 and I wasnt Bazooka Joe's friend, Mort. It was too warm for a scarf, and I didnt have any makeup, so I made due with my hoodie, by pulling the strings.
Unfortunately, the strings loosened, and my mother saw the plum-colored bruises. Immeadiately, she freaked, as did I. Of all the people in my house, why did my religious fanatic mother have to be the first to lay eyes on my exposed neck? I called Hadassah, asked for help, and tried every trick in the book. The brush, the comb, the icepack, the hot tea bags, Icy Hot, toothpaste, deodorant, you name it. But nothing worked. Talk about powerful suction.
And speaking of things that sucked, my mother totally took all the fun out of the Super Bowl party, when she cried to her sisters, my aunts, that I had gotten a hickey, which, as everyone in my family knows, is just a short leap to birthing bastard children. And the person she blamed it on? My friend, Hadassah. I could've told her the absolute truth, but who, other than a character from WB, tells the absolute truth to their mother?
Hadassah and I had been going out to Happy Hour, for the past two weeks, as nothing more than just mere friends. But to the unknowing, it seemed like much more. And it wasnt my mother that thought we were dating. It was half of downtown. Apparently, a girl on one arm plus a drink in one hand equaled a cute couple. People would smile at us and since we paused when they asked if we were dating, we would get free food. It was the perfect plan. Until, of course, my mother made my friend sound like a low-class whore. And it wasnt just my mother. It was also one of Hadassah's boyfriend's too.
Hadassah was in the middle of dating two guys, a theory that my blog friend Carrie< proved was the smart thing to do when dealing with a potential mate. Having been burned badly from her last lover, Hadassah was playing it safe and having fun, which was something she stated clearly when she entered the dating world. The only problem was it didnt abide well with most of her friends or Guy, one of her suitors. He heard it through the grapevine that she was seeing someone other than him. He thought it was me, when in reality, it was actually one of the lawyers upstairs. Somewhere down the line, names got crossed and when Guy told her she had to choose him or the other guy, Hadassah didnt like having her choices limited, so Guy suggested they go on a break. A choice that left Hadassah in tears.
Maybe she did have strong feelings for Guy than she thought she did. Maybe it was time to get serious and choose. In any event, I couldnt help but feel like it was all my fault. Mike, Guy, my mother thinking Hadassah was a whore. I know now, I probably shouldnt have paused as long as I did and let the stories spin out of control, but since I cant go back in the past and change it, I wonder if spreading a vicious rumor about myself will help. The only thing is, what would I say?
*By the way, in case there was any confusion to that whole Las Vegas wedding story, yeah, they did get married. The happy couple will be getting the traditional, matching, His & Her "Bitch" tattoos before Valentine's.
Hadassah, who used to be a barista at Mike's Coffee Shop, was recently promoted as Mike's personal secretary and therefore had access to all the upstairs office gossip. Like who was dating whom, what lawyer was walking around naked in the building after hours, and what two people were caught making love in the stairwell, thus prompting the managers of the Frontier Building to install security cameras everywhere. That sorta stuff. The only gossip that Hadassah didn’t know was Mike's sexuality. Obviously, it was something personal that Mike didn’t want Hadassah to know. But if he kept that part of his life from her, did that also mean he kept part of his dream from her too?
That’s what my co-worker Adrianna and I wondered aloud as we talked about Mike and the dream and whether or not Mike had an infatuation with me or if it was purely coincidental because we both worked in the same building. He certainly was hanging around the lobby more often and he was smiling and waving at us more than usual. Before we could come out with a definitive answer, Chamo, the cook who worked next door at The Jungle Square Restaurant, was silently sitting in the lobby, listening to our conversation and immeadiately reported back everything he heard to the restaurant bartender, in front of two employees that worked in the building. Before the day ended, rumors began to speculate all around the building that Mike was trying to hook up with me.
Of course, nobody dared to ask Mike, so they asked me. I couldnt believe how fast word got out about Mike's dream and how so many people believed it. And when I paused for an answer, some people, actually most people, took that as the only answer they needed. I had outed one of Tucson's promienent business men. But it wasnt my fault. I didnt go around and tell people that Mike was bi. But then again, I didnt deny that he was. But was it so bad that the truth had inadvertenly come out?
It wasnt until Super Bowl Sunday when a rumor of my own came out that I wondered just how Mike might feel. I had gone to a party the previous night and came home with more than just a hangover. I came home with a hickey. Actually, it was a little group of hickies. And though they werent my first, they were a little higher on my neck than usual, which made it that much harder to hide. I couldnt wear a turtle neck since it wasnt 1987 and I wasnt Bazooka Joe's friend, Mort. It was too warm for a scarf, and I didnt have any makeup, so I made due with my hoodie, by pulling the strings.
Unfortunately, the strings loosened, and my mother saw the plum-colored bruises. Immeadiately, she freaked, as did I. Of all the people in my house, why did my religious fanatic mother have to be the first to lay eyes on my exposed neck? I called Hadassah, asked for help, and tried every trick in the book. The brush, the comb, the icepack, the hot tea bags, Icy Hot, toothpaste, deodorant, you name it. But nothing worked. Talk about powerful suction.
And speaking of things that sucked, my mother totally took all the fun out of the Super Bowl party, when she cried to her sisters, my aunts, that I had gotten a hickey, which, as everyone in my family knows, is just a short leap to birthing bastard children. And the person she blamed it on? My friend, Hadassah. I could've told her the absolute truth, but who, other than a character from WB, tells the absolute truth to their mother?
Hadassah and I had been going out to Happy Hour, for the past two weeks, as nothing more than just mere friends. But to the unknowing, it seemed like much more. And it wasnt my mother that thought we were dating. It was half of downtown. Apparently, a girl on one arm plus a drink in one hand equaled a cute couple. People would smile at us and since we paused when they asked if we were dating, we would get free food. It was the perfect plan. Until, of course, my mother made my friend sound like a low-class whore. And it wasnt just my mother. It was also one of Hadassah's boyfriend's too.
Hadassah was in the middle of dating two guys, a theory that my blog friend Carrie< proved was the smart thing to do when dealing with a potential mate. Having been burned badly from her last lover, Hadassah was playing it safe and having fun, which was something she stated clearly when she entered the dating world. The only problem was it didnt abide well with most of her friends or Guy, one of her suitors. He heard it through the grapevine that she was seeing someone other than him. He thought it was me, when in reality, it was actually one of the lawyers upstairs. Somewhere down the line, names got crossed and when Guy told her she had to choose him or the other guy, Hadassah didnt like having her choices limited, so Guy suggested they go on a break. A choice that left Hadassah in tears.
Maybe she did have strong feelings for Guy than she thought she did. Maybe it was time to get serious and choose. In any event, I couldnt help but feel like it was all my fault. Mike, Guy, my mother thinking Hadassah was a whore. I know now, I probably shouldnt have paused as long as I did and let the stories spin out of control, but since I cant go back in the past and change it, I wonder if spreading a vicious rumor about myself will help. The only thing is, what would I say?
*By the way, in case there was any confusion to that whole Las Vegas wedding story, yeah, they did get married. The happy couple will be getting the traditional, matching, His & Her "Bitch" tattoos before Valentine's.
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