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It would be so "Priscilla"
Jun. 21st, 2003 11:02 amI got a phone call from my friend Scott this morning. This in and of itself is not unusual...nor was the conversation that started out "Is it wrong to sleep with someone who is really cute and is on his way to being a rock star if it might advance your careeer?"
That's Scott.
So the background...
Scott is my best friend from college. We met my first year, when I dated his roommate. (Scott lived in a room with three other guys, all named Dan. He was the gay one. Three of these things belong together, three of these things are kind of the same. One of these things is not like the other...) Scott and I were virtually inseperable that year...despite my dating Dan. I was almost always in their room. Scott is the person who went with me to the ER when I broke my ankle. My mother was baffled by the fact that I was certain that Scott was not interested in me at all in any way deeper than friendship until I told her he was gay. And ever since then, she's referred to him as Scott, (said with something that falls between disdain and scorn) accompanied by a limp wrist motion. He in turn, refers to her as "your Mother" with the same tone, and limp wrist motion. In his case it's more of a joke. He's amused by the whole thing. It was a running joke that starting in our first year, every time he got laid, he'd call me. And he did...almost always. He still does, sometimes, although now, I'll often get e-mail instead of phone calls, to save long distance charges. With basic details about the guy. I got calls while men were still getting dressed in his room that said "Go get a movie, and come over. I'll order the chinese food, what do you want?" And there was a parade of men in and out of his room. One year we ended up living accross a parking lot from one another, in different buildings. His apartment was one floor down and on the opposite side of the parking lot for him. We'd stand in the room and talk on the phone while watching each other through the windows. I saw some things that weren't intended for public viewing, but he left the blinds open. We went through the parade of boyfriends (mine and his.) We drank too much, partied too hard, cried, laughed and loved. Scott is the reason I came out and stayed sane. And the person who taught me how to make being queer the part of me that it is, without overwhelming the rest of me. He taught me to navigate "the gayborhood" in DC, we had our favorite places...there are stories upon stories of what we did.
So Scott is still one of my favorite people. He's the one who taught me the essence of cattiness. I learned how to be a gay man (as much as I can be, anyway) from him. He's fun, and exciting, and good to spend time with.
And he's moving to LA. And while I'm sad that he'll be accross the country from me, it's one of the best things for him. It's essential for his career in the music industry, which is what he wants to do (no, he's not a performer, although he is a talented musician) that he be in one of very few places...LA, NYC among them. And he loves LA, and has found some part time work there until he finds something permanent.
He's looking for someone to drive cross country with him, from Boston where he now lives to LA. He asked if I wanted to come along. Would I? I'd LOVE to. I'd get a vacation, something I've been clamboring for, with a good friend, doing something I've wanted to do for years-drive cross country. He's offered to pay for my plane ticket to Boston and from LA, to teach me to drive a stick shift before we leave so I can help with the driving, and to cover almost all of the expenses. (I'd basically end up paying for food and incidentals along the way. Things like admission to Graceland, and any gambling in Vegas if I wanted to...) I'd love to do it. It would be so "Priscilla." Mom and one of her best friends did it 30+ years ago (including a call to my Dad at three am, collect from Winnemucca NV) So why am I stressing it so much?
I didn't say yes. Nor did I say no. I just sort of said, "let's talk about it later?"
Edit: Talked it over briefly with my parents, laying out the two major concerns-where to put my car for an entire week so I don't have to pay for airport parking and it's safe, and finding a cat sitter. Both Mom and Dad think it sounds good, and that it's an opportunity that one doesn't get often. Mom offered to contribute $100 towards my trip expenses. I'll think about it some more and talk to work on Monday.
That's Scott.
So the background...
Scott is my best friend from college. We met my first year, when I dated his roommate. (Scott lived in a room with three other guys, all named Dan. He was the gay one. Three of these things belong together, three of these things are kind of the same. One of these things is not like the other...) Scott and I were virtually inseperable that year...despite my dating Dan. I was almost always in their room. Scott is the person who went with me to the ER when I broke my ankle. My mother was baffled by the fact that I was certain that Scott was not interested in me at all in any way deeper than friendship until I told her he was gay. And ever since then, she's referred to him as Scott, (said with something that falls between disdain and scorn) accompanied by a limp wrist motion. He in turn, refers to her as "your Mother" with the same tone, and limp wrist motion. In his case it's more of a joke. He's amused by the whole thing. It was a running joke that starting in our first year, every time he got laid, he'd call me. And he did...almost always. He still does, sometimes, although now, I'll often get e-mail instead of phone calls, to save long distance charges. With basic details about the guy. I got calls while men were still getting dressed in his room that said "Go get a movie, and come over. I'll order the chinese food, what do you want?" And there was a parade of men in and out of his room. One year we ended up living accross a parking lot from one another, in different buildings. His apartment was one floor down and on the opposite side of the parking lot for him. We'd stand in the room and talk on the phone while watching each other through the windows. I saw some things that weren't intended for public viewing, but he left the blinds open. We went through the parade of boyfriends (mine and his.) We drank too much, partied too hard, cried, laughed and loved. Scott is the reason I came out and stayed sane. And the person who taught me how to make being queer the part of me that it is, without overwhelming the rest of me. He taught me to navigate "the gayborhood" in DC, we had our favorite places...there are stories upon stories of what we did.
So Scott is still one of my favorite people. He's the one who taught me the essence of cattiness. I learned how to be a gay man (as much as I can be, anyway) from him. He's fun, and exciting, and good to spend time with.
And he's moving to LA. And while I'm sad that he'll be accross the country from me, it's one of the best things for him. It's essential for his career in the music industry, which is what he wants to do (no, he's not a performer, although he is a talented musician) that he be in one of very few places...LA, NYC among them. And he loves LA, and has found some part time work there until he finds something permanent.
He's looking for someone to drive cross country with him, from Boston where he now lives to LA. He asked if I wanted to come along. Would I? I'd LOVE to. I'd get a vacation, something I've been clamboring for, with a good friend, doing something I've wanted to do for years-drive cross country. He's offered to pay for my plane ticket to Boston and from LA, to teach me to drive a stick shift before we leave so I can help with the driving, and to cover almost all of the expenses. (I'd basically end up paying for food and incidentals along the way. Things like admission to Graceland, and any gambling in Vegas if I wanted to...) I'd love to do it. It would be so "Priscilla." Mom and one of her best friends did it 30+ years ago (including a call to my Dad at three am, collect from Winnemucca NV) So why am I stressing it so much?
I didn't say yes. Nor did I say no. I just sort of said, "let's talk about it later?"
Edit: Talked it over briefly with my parents, laying out the two major concerns-where to put my car for an entire week so I don't have to pay for airport parking and it's safe, and finding a cat sitter. Both Mom and Dad think it sounds good, and that it's an opportunity that one doesn't get often. Mom offered to contribute $100 towards my trip expenses. I'll think about it some more and talk to work on Monday.
