My boyfriend and I decided to write some goals down instead of giving something up for 2013.
We decided we’re taking this year to ‘Turn It Yes.’
Care to join us?
Tag: gay lifestyle blog
Podcast with Colby Keller
Hey guys.
Here’s the very first PIECAST with Colby Keller, Adam Gardiner, Karl Marxxx and myself. We chat about overcoming shame, radicalizing gay rights, being a porn star, and adopting Asian babies. Along the way we manage to redefine what it means to be a ‘gay hero.’ All while baking a nice pie.
Download the episode here: https://soundcloud.com/pariswages/piecast-01-colby-keller
Enjoy the podcast, Jerks.
Advice
Hi
I came across your blog and I need advice. I am 28. That really doesnt matter, nevermind. Anyways, I met a guy through mutual friends 10 days ago. We hit it off BIG TIME. I will admit, at first I was not super into it, or wasn’t attracted at first but he came onto me and I just kept finding him more and more attractive until all the sudden BAM! he was the hottest mofo ever. We had INCREDIBLE SEX. Five times the first night. He was very sweet, texting me afterwards, non stop communicating etc. He is new to being gay/out. I am kinda too but he is newer. He asked me to hang two days later and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to or not and was still talking to other guys and I passed. We agreed to hang the next night..and when he got here to the city, he invited me to come hang at his friends place. These friends are two older guys (in a relationship) that he has had sex with. So, naturally I got a little turned off and made other plans. We drunkenly made plans to meet up later that night, which was a bad idea because we were both getting intoxicated and that stuff falls through and I realize this. Needless to say, he didnt pull through and I got a little pissed off and sent some text. He called me five times that night, apologized the next day (thanksgiving). I got over it, he came over and we had more amazing passionate sex. Its not a connection I normally experience. IT feels like love to me, as crazy as that sounds but Im not naive. I know its not realistic to believe that. We just have very passionate, loving hot encounters. I feel very close to him, naturally. I seriously just wanna own this kids body and hole. Love kissing him. He had only bottomed three other times before me so you can imagine my pleasure. I also went ahead and sat on his cock too. IT was amazing. Then, the next day neither of us texted eachother. I texted him saturday and he texted back four hours later. That was cool, we chatted. I told him I was out with a bud. This bud is actually a guy I have been seeing since July but we have never had sex. He is a virgin. This same bud asks me to be his boyfriend that evening and I say no. ITs crazy cuz two months ago that is all I wanted and now I do not. I feel like Ive lost interest. That is a separate story.
Anyways, we communicate Sunday and I guess as this point I was feeling a distance from the new guy that Im crazy about. I end up completely overreacting to his text. I guess I felt like he wasn’t being as sweet or as present as he was originally and I said something like “Whats up with you dude? Did you enjoy yourself the other night”? (knowing that he did). He said he was tired and laying down after work. I said “I dont have time for this bullshit.” Or something to that effect. I was just being a total spaz for no reason..for the second time and we had only known eachother less than a wk. So then I send a long “Im sorry Im being crazy” text, telling him I like him alot and I havent felt that way for anyone in a while and that I want to take him out. He told me he liked me the second time we hung out. I told him I did too, so this was not news. I then follow that text up by saying that Jordan asked me to be his boyfriend and that i was just very confused and acting irrationally. He then responds by saying it all threw him off but that he isn’t looking to jump into a relationship but has a good time with me etc. I then counteract by saying that I think we should just be friends and that I love Jordan and blah blah blah .A bunch of absolute bullshit!!! This was basically an outright lie to make myself unavailable and to make him want me. I will admit I could sense some disappointment which is what I wanted. I am a twisted fuck. Then, I go on to tell him how hot Jordan is (which he is pretty sexy) as he asked what he looks like and I tell him that he and I can only be bro’s, as to make myself unavailable and to make him want me. I am a DOUCHE. This kinda thing works though, sadly. Anyways, so I then tell him I really like him though and I Want him to know that and he says he likes me too and that he just is living life right now not looking for a relationship. I never once told him I wanted to be with him so idk why he keep saying it. Then I say it doesnt matter anyways as Jordan is in my life..and he says “exactly” and then I Say “but it does matter to me” and he says “I care but…” and then I say “what?”.. and he says nevermind man and then never tells me what he is gonna say! I then texted him trying to get him out of it quite a few times (I had been drinking). I then just restate what I had said, saying that depsite Jordan, I do like him a lot and that I care and that it matters and that I am just very confused. (obviously!) I then send him a sexy pic and refer to myself as the “whip nip” lol with a wink face. I then apologize again for being such a crazy ass and tell him that he just has that effect on me. He texted me the next morning and said he had been sleeping as he had to work at 5am, which he does work super early. At this point, I had worried so much about it that I didnt respond for twelve hours and all I said was “I worked all day, Im exhausted. I was drunk”. We have not communicated at all since. He never responded to my response. I am wondering what he is thinking. I keep telling myself to just give it time and space as we met a week ago and it got hot and heavy fast. I dont want to tell him Im not really with Jordan or that I am not going to be with Jordan because it will just be obvious and I will be putting it all out there. I do think this guy likes me and I think it may be salvageable despite my erratic behavior. What do I do? I already know that I will cut this crap out, for sure. ITs not even me. I was just blindsided. I am so fucking into him. Even weirder because initially I did not think I would be. What do I do or say? help. Ps- I am a pretty attractive guy with a nice body, if that makes any sort of difference and he really seems to like it..as well as my dick. Should I wait? How do I appear non crazy and express my interest while at the same time not making myself totally available? Help! 😦
– dan
Dear Dan,
Thanks for reading and thanks for asking my advice. Here it is:
Paragraph breaks, in your emails. I think it will change your life.
Oh, I thought of more advice. Give up on this relationship. Seriously. Scrap it. Next time you have one, don’t dick the other guy around by playing stupid mind games.
You coming clean will just reveal you as the crazy mess you are. It won’t solve anything, or make you look adorable. Just scrap this relationship and stop being a selfish idiot.
Someone’s feelings are at stake. Yes, I know you think I mean YOURS, but I actually mean the other person’s. If you can learn that, you can get over yourself and actually fall in love. If not, keep getting drunk and fucking everyone forever. That’s not the worst life either.
Oh yeah, and stop using ‘I was drunk’ as an excuse for any sort of behavior. Nobody cares you were drunk, only that you acted like an asshole.
I’m sure you’re a nice guy at heart. I’m sure your intentions are in the right place. However, it’s time the world learned that intentions are all well and good, but actions make the world go round. I’m sure Andy Dick had good intentions when he started doing comedy, and look what happened.
Being in love means putting the other person first (at least sometimes).
Jerk.
P.S. I’m serious about those paragraph breaks. It will organize your thoughts and change your life. Or at least make mine easier, next time.
More Colby Keller
Me: Talk about overcoming shame about your body?
Him: Eventually you realize [porn] is not having sex with someone you want to have sex with. It’s a job. It took me a while to get past those anxieties. Now it’s like, maybe I’m concerned with how my body is positioned for the camera.
Me: (to the photographer) Adam, speak to this. A model must be both aware and unaware of their body at the same time. True or False?
The Photographer: Yeah, but it’s about their generosity too. Of spirit and the quality of person that they are. It’s not about looks. When you’re good at it it’s because something generous about yourself translates. There’s something shared that you experience in the person. Caught in a moment. That’s the engaging part of a photograph.
Him: I think you really have to let go, and that’s a difficult thing to do.
Me: You shoot high fashion right?
The Photographer: I shoot – I don’t call it high fashion, but I do shoot highly commercial work. The thing that I became really good at was always photographing somebody in a way that they were flattered by, and kind of built them up and made them feel better. Somebody said that I try to look at people the way they would look in the eyes of someone in love with [the subject]. I’ve been very lucky.
Me: There was a moment in the shoot where you made us switch aprons. What was that about?
Him: Just to reassert myself as the alpha male.
(laughter)
Me: That’s the thing about being gay that I love. There can be four gays in a room and we know that each of us will have our moment to be alpha. With straight guys that would end up as a fight. It wouldn’t – there’s always one guy in a group of straight guys who’s a dick but ‘that’s his thing.’ Straight guys have that issue because they can’t [have sex with] each other. I wish they could! Wouldn’t they be perfect?
(laughter)
Him: Some of them do.
Me: How did you come to pornography?
Him: I just graduated college and curious and had trouble finding a job. I submitted pictures one night thinking they would tell me no, and they said yes. I felt like I had to do it, because it had happened.
Me: Just to let everyone know, he’s getting a hug from his boyfriend right now.
Him: You know, like when you’re afraid of heights and you climb a mountain. I had to do it. I had to push myself to that point.
Me: Why did you like to do it? Because you like to push buttons. You like to fuck with your mom and dad.
Him: No! It’s not about that. I like to fuck with my self, and challenge myself.
Me: Would you agree Karl Marx?
His Boyfriend: Oh of course. He hates nostalgia, and sitting on his laurels intellectually. He’s always looking for something new. He’s so focused on challenging himself artistically and intellectually. That’s why I fell in love with him. He’s so good at working against it. Entropy is always the enemy.
Me: Entropy is always the enemy and it always wins eventually. So we have to fight it.
His Boyfriend: While we’re here we have to fight it, but he’s a great person to ride behind, because he’s constantly pushing against it.
Me: I fucking love that.
To be continued…
More Colby Keller here.
The JFK and Jackie O of Our Generation
Me: You are polyamorist?
Him: I have been, yes. I’m no longer practicing necessarily, but I believe in it.
Me: Oh wait a minute – are we putting our relationship on monogamy lock down?
Him: No, but there’s not an other. Just one right now.
Me: And Karl Marx is your boyfriend.
Him: You might want to ask Karl Marx that question.
Me: Carl! Just say yes. Everyone wants YOU TO LOVE COLBY!! It really is the JFK and Jackie O of our generation, so just let it happen!!
(laughter)
His Boyfriend: I lift my sunglasses and I nod politely.
Me: OH! So Jackie O. Now we know who the bottom is. Right? So why is polyamory good for a society?
Him: I don’t know if it’s good for a society.
Me: You’re so diplomatic.
Him: Because it’s not for everybody – I believe that the worst possible thing is to think of the world in terms of your own self interest. From one central egotistical position. And relationships whether it’s with one other person, right? You no longer are single entity. You’re seeing the world through someone elses eyes. It’s good to challenge ourselves that way – to expand what it means to be human and I think we do that by seeing the world through different eyes. Expanding that franchise can do that, but it’s difficult. It’s harder than it is with one other person. Three people is harder than two people. Four people are harder than three people.
Me: I had two boyfriends. Can I make that confession?
Him: I think you just did.
His Boyfriend: Did they know?
(laughter)
Me: It didn’t work. They weren’t attracted to each other and I was obsessed with this idea that I couldn’t have two boyfriends if they only wanted monogamy with me. Cause then, like, I’m a dick or something… Can you speak to that?
Him: I think they both thought I was a dick.
Me: We broke up. They both wanted me to be their boyfriend. The guilt that I felt. Not being able to give anyone what they wanted. Including me. I wanted us all to be boyfriends. We tried. We went on vacations together.
His Boyfriend:There are successful throuples and for me one of the biggest frustrations was that I wasn’t impressed with the other person. What hurt more than anything was that I didn’t like the other person.
Me: That made it harder. They liked each other and were friends.
Him: Right. Well. In our case there’s a lot of jealousies there and preconceptions… If you guys would have developed a friendship…
His Boyfriend: We interacted several times over the course of years and we never had a strong connection emotionally as friends. I don’t think that matters. We just weren’t compatible as friends. I was torn between still being in love with this amazing person (indicates Colby) and still not understanding what he was getting out of this other situation.
Me: What were you getting out of it? That’s a hard question. Are you mad?
Him: It was a lot of things. It was an intellectual connection. A sexual connection. If anything we’re almost too much alike. I see myself as much more introverted. The only reason I do a lot of things like this is because of Karl Marx.
Me: Have you topped Colby?
His Boyfriend: Yes.
Me: How do you climb mount bottom? He is a hunk of meat.
His Boyfriend: Yeah he’s a big person.
Me: Do you feel powerful? “I am climbing mount bottom. And now I’ve reached the summit. And now I plant my flag?”
(laughter)
His Boyfriend: I’m not sure. I don’t think about it in that context, no. I don’t feel a sense of accomplishment. It’s just the way we have sex.
Me: I feel like sex is a form of communication. I think monogamy is a selfish idea. I think it’s akin to slavery in the sense that [people are thought of as] property. I don’t think it’s good for society and I’ll tell you why. Because it doesn’t work for straight people, so why should it work for us?
Him: I do think that if you do love someone then you have their interests at heart. If Karl meets someone and decides that he wants to spend time with that person and be in a relationship with them I love Karl to the point where I accept that.
Me: That’s healthy.
Him: And I’ll be jealous, but that’s my shit. I own that shit. It’s not his shit, it’s mine.
Me: That’s fucking awesome.
The Ficus is Dead – Part Three
Me: Yeah. And the definition of a nice Thanksgiving is one where I don’t show up and ruin things. So yeah, I didn’t speak to you after that, because you proved to me that you don’t care about me anymore. I decided right then that I wasn’t going to reach out to you again, until you reached out first. Ha. I guess you called my bluff! Cause a year has gone by and you didn’t even know I was hurting over it. But it doesn’t matter anymore because the ficus is dead. It’s dead and it’s not ever, ever coming back and you don’t get to know about that!
(pause)
Me: You run away from everything.
Him: You. Left. Me.
Me: You left me a long time before that for your drunk ass writer friends.
Him: You wanted me to be a writer!
Me: NOW YOU ARE ONE. Are you happy?
Him: Yes, Michael. I am. I’m very happy, actually. I love my house, and I love my car and I love my boyfriend. And you’re passive aggressive, but I love you too. I just can’t be around you all the time anymore, or maybe even at all. AND I DON’T OWE IT TO YOU TO EXPLAIN WHY.
Me: That’s fine! But I don’t owe it to you to tell you when the ficus dies.
Him: That was a metaphor for us!
Me: It still IS. Our relationship, and I mean our friendship – died. It died in the past year as you turned your back on me and slowly cut me out of our circle of friends. Have you ever seen August Osage County?
Him: No. Why?
Me: Tracy Letts writes a line for one of the characters, about how people are always complaining that America is dying, but the truth of the matter is that America died a long time ago, while Americans were focused on other things. Curling irons. New Cars. Televisions. I’m paraphrasing.
Him: So?
Me: So that’s us. We’re the ficus. It’s dead, and you didn’t even know it was dying. And because of that you don’t get to deserve to know.
Him: Do you see how passive aggressive you are?
Me: You don’t know the half of it. Talk about passive aggressive – you’re imaginary!
Him: What?
Me: I’m making you up. I’m not really saying this to you. This is just what I wish I could say to you. You’re a fantasy Carson.
Him: GOD YOU’RE SO…
Me: Passive aggressive? Maybe you’re right, but at least I’m real, and you’re not, so haha. Anyway, you got all our friends in the breakup so you can console yourself with that.
Him: Hm. Well. In that case…
Me: Yes?
Him: Since I’m a fantasy Carson, I can’t get a hangover. Should we have another beer. Talk this out some more?
Me: I go in circles with this, but I always wind up forgiving you.
Him: Aw you’re sweet. Do you forgive yourself?
Me: I’m starting to. It’s hard. That’s the hardest thing.
Him: Oh, shit, sweetie – I just realized.
Me: What?
Him: Jason’s coming back with cigarettes.
Me: No he isn’t. This is my fantasy and he doesn’t exist.
Him: Oh no! I love him though. Plus I really wanted a cigarette.
Me: You mean like the cigarette you have in your hand right now?
Him: Oh wow. You can do that?
Me: It’s my fantasy.
Him: That’s neat. But why not just make a version of me that doesn’t crave cigarettes?
Me: Because I like your flaws sometimes.
Him: Why?
(long pause)
Me: Because I love you. What are you drinking?
Him: Stella.
Me: I’ll go to the bar and get two Stellas then.
Him: I’ll be here when you get back.
Me: No, you won’t.
Him: What? Why?
Me: Because it’s my fantasy. And because the ficus is dead.
The Ficus is Dead
Him: Oh hey.
Me: What? Shit. Hey! Happy Thanksgiving.
Him: Happy Thanksgiving sweetie. Are you here alone?
Me: Yeah. I went to a few friends. Now I’m here. I don’t know why. Where’s Jason?
Him: He went to get cigarettes, he’ll be back in 20 minutes or so.
Me: Ugh. You guys are still smoking? I thought you almost kicked that when we were together…
Him: I never really stopped. I just only had 2 or 3 a week.
Me: I know. I smelled it on you, from time to time. I didn’t always mention it.
Him: I knew you knew.
Me: I knew you knew I knew.
Him: I knew that too.
Me: We were very passive aggressive towards each other.
Him: We were. You are.
Me: Okay, okay. Thanks for saying hi!
(pause)
Me: I understand you and Jason bought a car and a house together.
Him: I guess word travels fast.
Me: I hear things. We’re both in comedy. People talk.
Him: It’s funny, I’d never think to say that. “I’m in comedy.”
Me: You are. The bulk of your money comes from comedy.
Him: I think of myself more as a writer.
Me: Yes. You’ve gotten very good.
Him: Oh, have you read?
Me: Yes. I follow you online, here and there, when I can stomach it.
Him: Ouch.
Me: Oh stop. I’m sure you don’t read my blog.
Him: That’s correct – I don’t.
Me: Okay so, fine. Well I read your stuff sometimes. You’ve gotten quite good.
Him: I’m glad you think so.
Me: I mean, I’m not nuts about reading about myself, but it’s very good writing, so that’s flattering, I guess.
Him: I don’t write about you. I write fiction.
Me: But some things are based on me.
Him: Some elements of some of my characters share parts of your behavior patterns or point of view. But I wouldn’t say I’m writing about you.
Me: No, of course you wouldn’t. But even so, it’s funny that as soon as I start recognizing myself in your writing, the very next thing I notice is an attitude of contempt from the narrator toward the ‘me’ character. It’s not my favorite thing in the world.
Him: You’ll never believe this, but I don’t write about you.
Me: I don’t write about you often, either. It’s good writing, Carson. Congrats on getting published. That’s huge. And I heard about the grant too.
Him: It’s political. I’m good at politics.
Me: You’re a good writer.
Him: Well thank you.
Me: You’re welcome. And you’re right. I’ll never believe that you’re not writing about me. We lived together for 8 years. I worked you through grad school.
Him: Let’s not start down this path again.
Me: Of course not. It’s a holiday, and in any case I have no regrets.
Him: I’m glad to hear that. Neither do I.
Me: How big of us.
(a very long pause. we stare across the bar and survey the crowd. we don’t make eye contact)
To Be Continued…
Showtime
Her: But he always does that. Haven’t you noticed?
Me: Does what?
Her: Won’t say yes to your idea. His is always better. You haven’t noticed that? He has NO RESPECT for the work. We’re trying to improvise a show here! Doesn’t he? I mean… Fucker. I know he hates me.
Me: Of course he hates you.
(long pause)
Her: What?
(long pause)
Me: Nothing.
(long pause)
Her: What’s that supposed to mean?
Me: Nothing. He’s Kyle’s best friend. He thinks you’re the devil. You can see that, right?
(pause)
Me: Let’s just get ready for this show. Huh? He’s funny. You’re funny. No bigs, right? Let’s change the subject.
Her: Let’s go into this grocery store.
Me: Why? Do you need something?
Her: I’m a little hungry. We’ve got 20 minutes to kill before we warm up. Come on.
(we enter the store)
Her: Ooh! Look at this. Marshmallows! Yummy right? Pretty. Don’t you want to eat them?
Me: I’m full, but you should get some if you’re hungry.
Her: No. They’re made of cow hooves. I just remembered. Don’t you think he’s a little bit of a steamroller? I mean, he just powers through scenes. There’s no subtlety.
Me: He’s a big player. He plays big. What do you want? He’s fucking hilarious.
Her: See. That’s what bugs me. He gets rewarded for doing bad improv. He doesn’t support. Oooh! Look at this melon.
Me: It’s a watermelon.
Her: But doesn’t it look great? He’s a dick.
Me: He’s not a dick. You can’t buy a whole watermelon right before we do a show.
Her: Why not?
Me: You won’t be able to cut it open. He’s just super aggressive with his moves and so are you. It can cause friction.
Her: I’m not aggressive!
Me: You are. It’s a good thing, remember?
Her: I’m not aggressive like he is.
Me: I mean…
Her: I’m not! Am I?
Me: Yes. You’re aggressive. We all have our shows where we’re barreling through. I have to remind myself to slow down. What about a granola bar?
Her: I don’t want a granola bar – ooooh, look at these pickles! They look so good!
Me: When did pickles become 11 dollars?
Her: They’re artesianal.
Me: They’re cucumbers. Are you hungry or what?
Her: Whydoyouask?
Me: Jeez. I dunno, Ellen. I guess because every time you’re stressed out over a show you take me to a grocery store and look at food items you don’t purchase.
Her: Is that weird?
Me: A little. I mean, especially knowing you had an issue with anorexia.
Her: I usually eat some bread and cheese in the morning to make sure I have some protein inside me.
Me: That’s not reassuring. I’m sorry to tell you this, but yes, we’re all aggressive sometimes. And yes, Carl hates you. You broke his best friend’s heart. You had an affair with one actor in the show, and then you had an affair with another, and you expect everyone to just get along, when both men loved you.
Her: I LOVED THEM TOO. I’m not a monster in all this!
Me: I’m not saying you’re a monster. I’m saying, people can’t always put their feelings aside and do the show.
Her: I can.
Me: Can you?
Her: YES. I’m a professional. He’s not. I’m only aggressive in scenes with him!
Me: That’s not true, but even if it was – how is that you putting your feelings aside?!
Her: He hates women! He doesn’t do that with you, does he? He can’t stand an assertive woman improviser, that’s what it is.
Me: That might be part of it. You’re aggressive onstage.
Her: Assertive.
Me: AGGRESSIVE. And yes. Comedy is full of immature boys that condescend to women. Please don’t start crying. We have to do a show in ten minutes. Come on. Let’s go.
Her: (still crying) Why does everyone hate me?
Me: They don’t… because they’re jealous of you. You have a big talent and it’s intimidating to them. They probably don’t even know they’re jealous of you. You’re a force to be reckoned with. Look, we all love each other, even when we get jealous. We all love being here, and respect each other.
Her: How do I know you’re not just saying that because we’re going onstage right now?
Me: You don’t. You just – we have to trust each other. I’m on your side. Okay?
Her: I guess.
Me: I’m sorry I brought this up at the wrong time. I was a jerk for doing that. Will you eat something?
Her: No.
Me: Okay. Let’s go. It’s showtime.
A Special Man
Her: Hey. I read that.
Me: What?
Her: That book. Are you reading Bossypants?
Me: Oh! Yes. I love it. I think Tina Fey is inspiring.
Her: Yes. It certainly seems like she’s carved out her own path. So what are you doing here, at a bar, in the middle of the afternoon?
Me: Ha. Good question. I was just thinking the same thing…
Her: Ah. But that’s not an answer.
Me: I’m waiting for a date.
Her: Oh. Very nice.
Me: That remains to be seen.
Her: Oh? First date?
Me: Yeah. First date. I’ve never met him.
Her: Is it a blind date?
Me: Sort of? I don’t think people do that anymore. I met him online.
Her: That sounds so exciting. The prospect of meeting a stranger online in real life. That’s not something someone from my generation does very easily. It seems scary.
Me: It’s not. You chat with the guys for a while before you meet up. Just to be sure they’re not a crystal meth addict or anything.
(pause)
Her: What do you do for a living? I’m sorry. That’s a cliche question. I’m not from New York, and when I come here I often wonder how people survive.
Me: Uh… I teach improv classes mostly, and do comedy gigs.
Her: Oh! I love improv! I just LOVE it. It’s magical.
Me: Really? Most people just tolerate it.
Her: No, it’s truly a wonderful thing. So glorious to see people working together, and agreeing. The spontaneity. There’s a real connection between the audience and the actors.
Me: That’s true.
Her: I really love it. I was very fond of a man who did improv – a long time ago…
Me: Did he? Was he good?
(pause)
Her: He was great. I like to think I’m kind of responsible. I took him to his first ever show at the Groundlings. He jumped up on stage with them and started playing.
Me: Wow. Really? Were they weirded out?
Her: No. You’d think they would be, but they weren’t. He was so good at it, even before he took any classes. He was such a natural.
(long pause)
Her: I was married to Phil Hartman.
(long pause)
Her: I was his first wife. He married a few times.
Me: Oh. Okay. Sorry. I thought…
Her: You thought I was the woman who shot him.
Me: For a second, yeah.
Her: No. I’m not. But I know her.
Me: I… That must be horrible. She must be very disturbed.
Her: She was very disturbed, and I can’t say that I’ll ever forgive her. But I’ve gotten to the point where I feel sorry for her. She was a very self-absorbed, very selfish woman. She was like poison for him, but he was so drawn to her.
Me: It can be hard being with funny people. Being their partners.
Her: I’ve heard that, but that was never the case with Phil. He was so loving, and such a wonderful man. He loved making people laugh. It was his reason for living.
Me: I get that. I do get that for sure.
Her: I know you do. I love improv. I love people that can just do that. It’s a gift. You have a gift.
Me: I’m trying to think of something self-deprecating to say, but who am I to argue with Phil Hartman’s wife?
Her: Exactly. Except I’m someone else’s wife now.
Me: That’s good. So you’re happy?
Her: I am.
Me: Good. Hey –
Her: What?
Me: Did it hit you hard? When he was killed?
Her: Yes. Yes it did. He was my best friend, for a long time. Even after our divorce he and I were very close.
Me: I’m so sorry. He’s one of my idols. He was a great man.
Her: That’s a good way to put it. Can I tell you a secret?
Me: Okay.
Her: The night that he died, I had a dream. I hadn’t thought about him for such a long time. But in my dream I was getting ready to go somewhere, and I was late. And I was annoyed. And my husband was nowhere to be found. And suddenly Phil appeared in my bathroom, where I was putting on my makeup. And I was shocked. And flustered. And he was the last person I wanted to see. But then he put his hand on my shoulder, and all I felt was calm, and warm. I felt loved. And he said, “So many people love you. I love you. And this is all gonna be okay.”
Me: Wow.
Her: I had this dream almost exactly the time he was shot. Very near to that time.
Me: Wow.
Her: I feel like it was him visiting me, one last time. I feel like he wanted me to know that he loved me. And I do. I know he loved me.
Me: That’s amazing.
Her: I feel like a shot. Should we get a shot? What do you drink?
Me: Bourbon. But I don’t –
Her: Can we have two bourbons? I have to leave to make dinner with my husband, but can we?
Me: Yeah. We can.
(pause)
Me: Hey. Thanks.
Her: What?
Me: Thanks for being open. That felt really good. Thank you.
Her: Thank you.
Me: For what?
Her: For being funny. Thank you.
Me: I wasn’t being funny.
Her: I know. But thanks for being a funny person.
Me: You haven’t seen me perform. What if I’m not funny?
Her: I know – but what if you are?
Me: That’s even more scary.
Her: Exactly. That’s even more scary. But that’s a whole other conversation.
