ThursDATE: Flash Back

Place: Inverness Florida, a Rural Town

Time:  My Senior Year of High School

Him:  Thanks for coming over.

Me:  It’s just so weird.  It was a weird phone call to get, in the middle of the day.  Just some guy asking if I’m gay.

Him:  Was that the first thing I asked?

Me:  You asked if I was Michael Martin, and then you asked if I was gay…

Him:  And you said yes.  I can’t believe you said yes.  Just like that.

Me:  Yeah.  Well.  I don’t lie about my sexuality.  It makes me feel uncomfortable.  I stopped lying about it a few years ago.

Him:  How many people know about you?

Me:  Whoever cares to ask, plus all of the people that my friends just mention it to.

Him:  Do you think your friends are telling people a lot?

Me: Well, yeah.  I’m friends with all the actorly types.  They love to talk.

Him:  Yeah.  I hate that about actors.  They’re always talking about other people.

Me:  It’s kind of our job.  To find out about people, what they’re like.  We’re not usually judging.  Just perceiving.  We’re interested.  But yeah – my actor friends like to talk.  How did you know to call me?

Him:  One of your actor friends told me about you, and gave me your phone number.

Me:  Weird.  So weird.

Him:  So I looked you up in the yearbook to see if you were cute.  Then I called you.

Me:  Such a strange way to meet somebody.

Him:  So what do you think of my place?

Me:  I like it.

Him:  I kind of live here alone.  It’s a long story.  My mom got a good job in Orlando.  So I’m here by myself about 5 days a week.

Me:  Sounds like a bunch of trouble.

Him:  I keep busy.  My friends are here a lot.

Me: I’ll bet.

Him:  Hey can I kiss you?

Me: You’d better.  How else am I going to prove that I’m as gay as my friends said I was?

(He kisses me.  It’s good.)

Him:  I couldn’t do that.  I can’t tell people I’m bi. 

Me:  You’re bi?

Him:  Don’t laugh.  It’s a real thing.

Me:  I know it is.  I just always thought a kiss from a bi guy would only feel half-interested.  But as I say that out loud I realize how ridiculous it sounds.

Him: But you tell people when they ask you.  Inverness is small.  It’s a small town.  People must hate you.

Me:  You know I’m class president, right?

Him:  Yeah.  But still.  I asked around.  Some people don’t like you much.

Me:  I suppose some people never will.  This is a redneck town.  There’s only what?  400 people in our High School?   In the only High School in town?  I think I’m doing okay, being openly gay here.  I think things are going  better than I expected them to when I started telling people.  Lots of people like me a lot.  Some people really can’t stand me.

Him:  You’re controversial. 

Me:  You’re hot.  I’m not controversial.  That makes me sound important, or something.  I’m just getting by, and trying to play by my own rules.

Him:  Maybe that’s what pisses people off. 

Me:  It might be.  Any chance I can get another one of those bisexual kisses?

Him:  Every chance.

(More smooching.  It’s good)

(There is a sound of a car pulling into the driveway.)

Him:  Oh shit.  That’s my friends.  Shit.  My friends are here.  Will you hide in the closet?  I’ll get rid of them.

Me:  Will I what?

Him:  Hide.  In here?  Please.  PLEASE.

Me:  Yeah.  Fine.

(A long time goes by as I hide in his closet.  I lay down on a pile of his dirty clothes.  I can smell him in his closet.  I feel comfortable and angry at the same time.  Eventually I hear the car noise again.  He comes back.  I debate whether or not to fake having slipped into a coma while he fucked around with his friends in the living room.  I decide I’m classier than that.)

Him:  Sorry about that.

Me:  You should be.  You made me feel ashamed.  I don’t like being made to feel ashamed of myself.

Him: I’m sorry.  They know you’re gay.  People kind of know that you’re gay.  It wouldn’t look good.

Me:  This isn’t going to work out.  I’m going to leave.  You can’t be wanting to date me, properly, if you’re going to shove me into a closet when your friends come over.

Him:  Come on.  Stick around.  I really am sorry.

Me:  I know, but now I don’t feel comfortable here anymore.  It’s not you.  I’m kidding.  It is.  It’s you.  But I’m not angry.  I’m just not interested in starting a relationship like this.  On these terms.  I have too much self respect.  It really gets in the way.  I’m not being sarcastic, or joking.  It really gets in the way of things, my pride.

Him:  That sucks.

Me: You’re cute.

Him:  You are.

Me:  Can I get one more of those kisses before I leave?

(We do.  It’s great again.)

Him:  (Under his breath) Fuck…

Me:  Yes.  We should probably do that.  Just so you know what you’re missing.

(We do.  Now he knows what he’s missing.  We lie there for about 20 min.)

Me:  Okay.  I’m going.  This was not the best date in the world.  You need to work on your dating skills, okay?

Him:  Okay.  I’m sorry.  I don’t know what else to say…

Me: It’s okay.  You’re nice.  It’s fine, really.  You’re good at sex.

Him: Thanks.  Will you come over again?

Me:  Probably not.  You’re cute, but I don’t let anyone make me feel ashamed.

Him:  Well.  Thanks for coming over.  You’re a great guy.

Me:  You’re not so bad yourself.  Just get over that shame business, and you’re kind of a catch.

Him:  Well thanks again for coming.

Me:  Well thanks for having me.  It was a wonderful time.  Except for that one part.  Thanks for the make outs.