Inbox. I checked it this morning at work like I do every day that I work. I get finished with my opening chores at the credit union, and then I check my e-mail. The mornings at the bank are usually so slow, I can normally complete my morning verification of electronic mail by ten A.M. Today, I wasn't so lucky.
My coworker who works the member services desk was given today off. It threw the whole front office into chaos from the strike of nine A.M. when the lobby doors were unlocked. I processed the night drop deposits, sorted out the previous two days' work, and got situated. Every time a member would leave, I would go back to checking my e-mail and another member would walk in. It was extremely frustrating. I finally ducked out to head to my pilates class. It's been absolutely marvelous to be able to take a midday break and fill that break with physical activity. I work up a phenomenal appetite by the time I return to work. Today I prepped my salad in the back and came to eat it on the teller line so the other tellers could start lunches and take turns eating for our scheduled 30 minute lunches. Same ordeal. I would go to take a bite and I'd call up another member. I was furious by the time that my salad was gone. On a side note, the sesame mandarin dressing was fabulous!
I spent a good deal of time listening to the phone ceaselessly chiming out in agony to be answered by anyone. It fell on deaf ears. The line was to the door, the phone was on the highest volume setting, and all I wanted to do was remove all of the handsets and hide them so no calls would get in. I hated it. The real cherry on the top of this cake was two women who entered the building ten minutes before we closed to change a detail on an IRA. The credit union was closed the next time I looked at the clock. The tellers had all balanced their drawers (5:09PM). We pulled all of our work together and gathered our belongings (5:15PM).
"Someone will let you ladies out," my supervisor let them know (seeing as the doors had already been locked). It was 5:20PM now and we should've all been walking out those doors, not just those two women. The entire loan department left us in the dust. The tellers left around 5:30PM. I was so ready to be home all day long.
CHANGE OF SUBJECT:
So Mike....the guy that I met at the bar last Saturday. He said we would get together this week sometime. I got a few texts out of him before he informed me of his terribly busy schedule. I understand. I tried to tell him that I know what it's like, and that there was no rush because there's always the next week, and the week after that. He sent me a message saying he was sure I'm an amazing guy, but he can't give me the time that I deserve right now. He wished we hadn't met during such a hectic time in his life. He apologized and wanted me to know that he wasn't trying to be an ass. I was crushed for a full fifteen minutes. It passed pretty quickly. I just expect tragedy at this point when it comes to my love life. I really should just walk around covered in CAUTION tape. I had this idea in the back of my head that Mike was going to be my Valentine.
I do have a Valentine this year, but HE, is a SHE. Ryan's sister Janel is going to be my date! We both have late classes on Thursdays, so we're celebrating on Friday the 15th. She's going to cook us chicken parmesan (I LOVE IT!).
"Candlelit, or no deal," I told Janel. That girl has so many Yankee candles in her house, she could simulate daylight at midnight. So that's the V-Day deal. Her husband is still deployed, and I, as usual, am still single.
CHANGE OF SUBJECT:
Yesterday I got out of school at 6:45PM. I drove home, and dialed Brent. I hadn't seen him since New Years Eve. We met during A Chorus Line (theatrical production we did together two years ago). He played Alan Deluca, and I played Paul San Marco. He was the heterosexual married man from the Bronx, and I was the gay Puerto Rican who was ashamed of his homosexuality. When Brent and I get together, he turns more queer than a three dollar bill. He raises the tone of his voice, laughs hysterically, and grabs my arm. We always have a blast together. Anyways, I called him up and he was in the dressing room getting ready to do a show. He invited me out, so before I returned home from school, I turned around. I made one stop at 711 to pick up Marlboro Menthol Lights, and a pre-made turkey and colby jack sandwich. I ate in the car and high tailed it up to the theater (a good 30 minutes away). The show has a waiting list of over 100 people (A Chorus Line had a waiting list of over 400!), but I was able to purchase a single seat. I said hello to the director who was the same director, in fact, that directed A Chorus Line. He was so happy to see me, his face lit up as he waddled toward me in the lobby. This man, mind you, weighs over 400 pounds. He was wearing a Marva Maid polo shirt, a cap that men over 60 wear, and pants so round in circumference, I could've fit every best friend from Kindergarten until now inside comfortably. He's probably in his 50s. He is diabetic. He has a crazy New York accent. It's so much fun impersonating this man.
He kissed me on my cheek, uncomfortably close to my lips. He smiled and held the sides of my arms with his hands, stepping back and telling me how great I looked. He hugged me so tight, it was uncomfortable. He makes me laugh though.
"You make parts of me tingle that haven't tingled in so long." Add a Brooklyn accent to that, and it's hilarious and disgusting all at the same time. I played along. I acted interested in what he had to say. He wants to do The Producers and he wants me in it. Whatever. I'll do it when I see the cold hard cash. I can't do any more of this "pro bono" theater shit. It's not worth it. The last show I did there cost me $10 in gas every day to get there and back home, AND my car was towed in the process ($120), so it's not worth paying all that money just to make someone else's money and never see it.
I grabbed my seat. Of course I was wedged between two older women. I looked around the audience and decided that I was the only gentleman in the theater that was younger than 55. Great. I have come to expect that with community theater though. It would be great if younger people could take such an avid interest in the arts, but that's rare now.
The show started. I didn't realize that Brent had THE lead role. He was George M. Cohan in the play George M. He was magnificent! The facial expressions were killer. His lines sounded like they were truly being spoken for the very first time. There was singing and dancing, and even a couple of male characters that I suspected were painfully gay outside of this make believe life they were creating. One hour first half. Intermission. Cigarette. Ahhh, such a relief. Act two, one hour. ANNNNNNNNDDD SCENE. The show was over. The picture at the top of this entry is of the actual George M. Cohan (the man who owned Broadway) and his wife Ethel Levey.
I waited for everyone to leave the theater. I hung out and waited for Brent. He screamed when he saw me.
"TEXASSSSSSS!" He screamed, in a voice so high, he was lucky the front-row-glasses-wearing-federation-of-women-over-seventy had left, otherwise, I'd be in row two with shards of glass in my face. We hugged and there he was. My three dollar bill best friend. He told everyone in the cast about our run in A Chorus Line and we even put on a little dance snippet for them and laughed. It was great. Everyone was back in normal clothes and ready for some down time. Brent, myself, Tony, T.J., and a couple girls from the show went to Red Star for appetizers and cocktails. We were out pretty late. There were six of us sitting around ONE tall round bar table. Good times. We talked about everything from high school and coming out, to theater, and even a little football. We left. It was after midnight. I don't know what time it was to be honest.
Today was rough. I got up though. I made it to work on time. It just took a little extra coffee to get me fully functioning.
THE ILL:
Victoria- Strep
Ryan- Flu
Mom- Flu
Dad- Flu
Everyone is quarantined. Ryan called out of work today. He was sore all over his body. I feel bad for him, but as the afternoon progressed, he did say he was feeling a little better.
SO, it is Friday night. I was actually going to take a nap right now in preparation of tonight's festivities, but no. I'm blogging!
Andrew has called me, so he's coming out tonight.
Ryan, I think, will actually make an appearance out.
I owe Victoria a phone call, but she's not going anywhere. That's a give.
Exciting news. Ryan has written some lyrics and even has a chorus worked out in his head. I'm thrilled to hear it tonight when I go to his house. If he launched his performing career, this guy could have some multiplatinum dance hits. I know it. We just need to get someone to mix it, and Dave Aude to remix it. It's a start at least. I'm excited for him.
My drag queen friend Omar, AKA CoraVette Colby sent me the sweetest comment on myspace today telling me how glad he was to have me on his friends list now and how my hair always looks so fierce. SCORE! I love it, but more than that, I love it when Cora performs Whitney Houston songs. Cora is the shit. She screams out to the audience, "CAN I GET AN OH YEAH HUUUUNNY?" and we all just scream, "OH YEAH HONEY!" (CoraVette Colby is pictured above).
Naomi, the drag queen that Jason is now involved with, has a signature phrase that goes a little something like this:
"CAN I GET AN ATTITUDE CHECK!?"
Audience response- "FUCK YOU!" That's Naomi's thing.
Much to your pleasure, I would also like to mention the fact that Ryan's musical number he has put together is about none other than Jason himself. He says it's so true (what he sings) and that he knows I'm going to love it, especially when he sings it.
SO, with that said, I'm going to try to enjoy at least a piece of a nap before I fulfill my social obligations of the evening.
0 comments:
Post a Comment