3. Fable (The Man's World Mix) in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

This weekend ended up being a huge confluence of too many events, both past and future. If you are someone who is not familiar with that irritating bit in parentheses, you have not figured out that it means I am on a trip somewhere. I have spent the last several days in the woodsy backgrounds of Lake Tahoe.

I got dragged up here for my friend Sarah’s bachelorette party. Originally this whole entry was going to be about how I might actually want to get married and have children… Nope. Not what ended up happening.

I had assumed that Sarah’s party would really just be one of her 7th grade slumber parties but with booze. That is almost exactly what ended up happening. The difference is that Sarah’s step-sister brought her three-month-old baby up to the cabin. This was the sweetest baby, but after about 15 minutes, I was done. I’m just not a baby person at all. Furthermore, everyone else was celebrating and making arts and crafts and I just kept wondering where the vodka was.

Sarah’s future sister-in-law and I were the only ones who thought it was strange that this bachelorette party was filled with canvas and crayons and not dildos and vodka. I’ve never been to a bachelorette party but I think they’re supposed to be a little naughtier than that. We made a booze run and finally got everyone nice and liquored up.

On the ride down there, my friend Charlie started sending me Snapchat messages from his trip to Denver. For whatever reason, I was very quick with the responses. He sent me some picture of a sign from a carwash that said “Best Hand Job” and captioned it “Promises Promises”. I replied, “Hey, I wrote that sign!” So he wrote back, “Oh, is that what the JB is for?” I was surprised by that mostly because I didn’t think Charlie knew my initials. So I wrote back, “That’s not what that means, I’m dyslexic.” So he said, “You are the most quick-witted of my friends.” I said, “My wits are quick, but I can take my time with other things.” So he said, “God I love you.” It was very sweet, so I said, “I love you, too, and thanks for calling me God.”

I’ve written about Charlie before. We had a casual sex thing going on about seven years ago but remained friends throughout the whole time. It ended when he got a girlfriend and moved in with some of his friends across town who didn’t take kindly to his close relationship with the town faggot.

We ran back into each other about a year ago when I got back into town. We’ve talked on the phone at least once a week since then, but we haven’t seen each other too often. He kept messaging me all weekend from Denver. It’s very sweet, I have a lot of affection for Charlie because he can look like a “whigga” upon first glance, but he’s actually incredibly well-mannered and intelligent. He’s always telling me he loves me and little things like that, I try not to take them beyond face-value.

By the end of the bachelorette party weekend, I was absolutely drained. I mean, these Tahoe people are just ridiculous. They’re very sweet, but I’m not sure they sell hairbrushes in Tahoe… Or deodorant. I had dragged the party out to a bar to sing karaoke, much to the chagrin of half the group because “drinking at a wedding event is inappropriate” (sounds like this wedding is gonna be a real good time sarcasm) and there I was singing a song in honor of my beloved.

The clock had crossed over to the day… It was now 15 years since Joe died. So I sang the Jazz version of Roxanne because he loved to hear me play that. To be quite honest, I played it poorly. Joe was a classically trained pianist who made everybody pale in comparison to his playing. But Joe never discouraged me once in my life, he said I got enough discouragement from my mother.

As I sat on the little chaise singing some fable about a prostitute, I thought about the group of women in front of me. They were all married and happily tied down. Totally willing for their lives to be as boring as someone else tells them, it was only until I wedged them out of their discomfort that I pulled them somewhere more “normal”.

The other thing that I found really interesting was Sarah’s mother. She asked me about Paris and when I explained to her about the situation, she knew exactly all of the circumstances and it was really nice to have the shorthand there. I didn’t have to say anything beyond, “my aunt fucked me over!” She knew exactly what it was.

When I got done singing my song, I got a text message from Charlie. “I know this day sucks, but I love you and I’m glad you’re still here.” I don’t remember ever telling Charlie my own fable. That’s the thing about him, he observes everything and quietly adjusts to make me feel better. I told him thank you. Then he asked me what I was doing Tuesday, I said I had nothing going on and he asked me if I’d like to get a drink. Sure why not.

His next message confused me a little bit. I always try to make sure that we fit within our boundaries mainly because that’s how we function best. I know not to get my hopes up just because we’re a little flirty. There are lines that may seem blurry, but I know right where the line actually is. Not so much with his message.

“Good, it’s a date!”