too many options on a Tuesday night

By the time I caught my flight to The Gold Coast (about 850km north), I was pretty much over Sydney. My itinerary said that I was taking off at 10:10am and landing at 10:35am, so I was a bit confused when they started bringing the drink cart around. It definitely wasn’t a 25-minute flight. As soon as we landed, I texted Spectalkular (known for his animated, theatrical speech in everyday conversation) to apologize for making him come early. It wasn’t til about two minutes later that I realized that we were in a different time zone.

Spectalkular (class of ’92ish) and I dated when I was in Sydney in ’03 after he’d just lost a bunch of weight on the Atkins diet. It’d been 6 and a half years since we’d met, and, though we were in sporadic email contact, we hadn’t so much as exchanged a picture since I’d left. I was relieved when he stepped out of his car and looked exactly the same as before. You don't know how many people I've given the screw-face because I didn't recognize them with an extra 40lbs.

We spent most of the ride to his house outside of Byron Bay catching up on each other’s lives. Spectalkular found his heart quite inconveniently attached when we parted ways. A month or two later, he met a guy close to his age who had recently come out. They got off to a rather rocky start because Spec wouldn’t let himself get close to the guy, but things got better with time. Fast forward to today: they're broken up but still share the house that they'd bought and are currently in the process of renovating. And Spec’s ex wasn’t exactly thrilled about the fact that Spec had moved on. Luckily, he was out of town for the few days I was staying.

A couple of minutes after Spectalkular had mentioned his most recent distraction, the 25 year old, texted him. After living in Sydney for about 7 years, this kid had moved into his alcoholic grandmother’s house. No car, no job. And apparently, not too impressive when it came to holding his liquor. They’d been seeing each other for about 6 weeks.

After stopping at the hardware store, Spectalkular took me to his house. It was a small 1-story 3-bedroom home on a beautiful piece of land with stunning views. He has since added a bathroom and turned the garage into a separated studio, where I would be sleeping. Spec introduced me to the painter, a tanned, fit, perpetually shirtless, British lad in his late 20s. Of course, he was straight.

We dropped off our stuff and headed to Brunswick Heads for lunch. Spectalkular’s boy arrived from the beach about 15 minutes after we did. He was rather tall, very slim, and good looking enough to make me feel neither overly cocky nor sorry for Spec. Spec had mentioned that he wasn’t going to mention to his boy that we had dated since he was so “protective.” I was ready for a show.

Spec: “Tom and Jerry should be joining us soon.”

The Boy (less than enthusiastic): “Oh… wonderful. I may just go back to the beach before they get here. Watch out, D. Kareem, ‘cause he’ll make you pull your cock out.”

Spec (laughing): “Oh, he’s only joking when he does that. The man’s harmless.”

The Boy: “He’s so over the top. He has a gold ring on, like, every finger…”

Spec: “Yeah, he does.”

The Boy: “Was he in a bad mood the other day? He seemed rather… annoyed.”

Spec: “Well, he gets up at 4:30 every morning, so he may well have been out of sorts."

Spectalkular had told me about Tom and Jerry on the way from the airport. Tom was a well-known business owner who had been married for about 40 years to a woman. They were still married. Jerry was his live-in partner of 25 years. Talk about having your cake and eating it too (duh, just buy two cakes)! Tom was Spec’s main comforter and confidant after I left, so he was well informed on our history. Spec warned me that Tom had a very sexual and aggressive sense of humor, so I was eager to see how our meeting would play out.

The couple arrived with a bottle of wine from the bar, and we all greeted each other.

Tom: “What a beautiful piece of man you’ve got here! He must be hung like a horse!”

Spec: “Excuse me, boys. I need to go for a wee.”

Tom: “Are you asking [your boy] for permission? Or does one of us need to come and hold it for you?”

Though everyone was laughing, the tension between Spec’s boy and his friends was almost palpable. Both Tom and Jerry were quick-witted and hilarious, and Spec’s boy was… well, he was the kind of guy you’d expect to meet on The Scene in any big city. After about 15 minutes, he excused himself to the beach.

Tom (laughing): “You just couldn’t wait to get away, huh!”

The Boy (laughing): “Yeah, well…”

Soon after Spec’s boy had left, it came out that he’d conducted himself in a less-than-comely manner at a gathering at Tom and Jerry’s a few days prior. Apparently, Tom had let Spec’s boy try on a watch that Jerry had gotten Tom in Rome as a present. And he never gave the watch back. Furthermore, he was flashing the watch at a party the next day, stating that it was a gift.

Tom: “Now, D. Kareem, if you came to my house and asked for a watch, I’d give it to you. Gladly for a sexy bloke like you. But he didn’t even ask! He just pinched it! Unbelievable. If I was you, I wouldn’t leave anything valuable lying around while he’s around. Now if you’ll excuse me… I was going to say ,‘I need to go siphon the python.’ But compared to you, it’s more like a garden snake! Not that it’s getting as much use as yours with all the sex you’re having, Spec.”

Spec: “Me?! Not even. We haven’t shagged in two weeks.”

Me: “Wait, 2 weeks. And he’s 25?! Something ain’t right.”

Tom (upon his return): “Sorry I took so long. It got all wet when the tip landed in the water.”

Jerry: “Well, maybe you should stop lying down in the trough when you go…”

After another drink, Spec decided that he really wanted to go for a swim. The beach, though beautiful, was rather empty. I think Spec sensed that I wasn’t up for an aquatic adventure, so he suggested that I stay with Tom and Jerry, promising that he’d be back in a half hour. Tom promptly ordered another bottle of wine.

Jerry: “You know, he’s gone after that boy. He’ll be longer than a half hour.”

Tom (topping off my glass): “Good thing you have us to look after you. Now let’s see that cock of yours! How big is it? 14?!”

Me: “That’s not up for discussion. But when you tell this story later, go ahead and say 14” if you want.”

Jerry: “We’re really worried about Spec, though. You should have seen how that boy was acting at our friend’s house! He was drunk out of his mind! So now the friend won’t allow the kid back at his house, and I don’t blame him.”

Tom: “The kid’s a gold digger, but Spec doesn’t see it. And we can’t seem to convince him.”

Me: “It’s funny, when he was describing him in the car, I was thinking, Why are you even with this guy. And I definitely got a weird vibe from him when he was here. Spec asked me to tell him what I thought of him, and I think it’ll echo what you guys have said.”

Jerry: “All of our friends have said it, but it won’t sink in.”

Me: “I think he has his doubts. If everyone’s saying it, he'll eventually get it. Who knows, maybe my contribution as an outsider will be what brings him around.”

Jerry: “I certainly hope so.”

When Spec got back, we bade his friends farewell (hopefully they got a cab) and headed back to his place. We had about an hour before we needed to leave to pick up Spec’s boy and get to the restaurant before they stopped serving at 8:30. Being in a small town, there weren’t too many options on a Tuesday night. I’d meant to take a nap, but when I found out Spec’s place had wireless, I immediately signed onto every website I had a profile on, changing a majority of them to a Melbourne location.

At the Italian restaurant, I had the best spaghetti I’d ever had in my life, though I can’t remember what was in it. It was so good that I momentarily tuned out of the conversation.

The Boy: “Well, I’m not giving it back until he asks me for it. It was a gift, and now he wants it back?!”

Spec: “Well, I don’t think he never thought of it as a gift.”

Me: “Definitely.”

The 3 of us went back to Spec’s house and sat outside, drenching ourselves in mosquito repellant since the “mozzies” were in full force. The sexy painter joined us in our quest to empty the fridge of all beer and wine. Did I mention I’d passed out by 1am? Yeah.

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