- 5:06 p.m.
How can it possibly be Thursday June 19th?
The last time I remember dating a check or reading a newspaper or glancing at the complimentary desktop calendar provided by my local realtor was MONDAY JUNE 16th.
Now, I’m no genius at math, but that’s a couple-a days ago.
Let me ramble a bit.
Since coming off of my BIRTHDAY BENDER (oy!) I’ve been sequestered(ish) with a writing partner on a project we started, oh… say… A YEAR AND A HALF AGO… and that sweet/funny/funny/sweet little script has been sitting, waiting, while we, the script-writers, lived our lives, pissed the time away, did worthwhile things, channel-surfed, ate, slept, drank, did other things to bring in money, laughed, drank, pissed more time away, had therapy, had some more therapy, etc. Yeah… so, that sweet/funny/funny/sweet script just sat.
Sat on my laptops desktop.
Occasionally I’d open the FINAL DRAFT SCRIPT DOCUMENT and re-save it with a new date, just to make myself feel better. Nobody wants to look at something on their desktop labeled blah/blah/2002 when it’s blah/blahk/2003. Nobody likes that.
So yeah, since my birthday, we’ve been writing.
Birthday Roundup: And, let me start by saying THANK YOU ALL (ish) so much for all the BIRTHDAY guestbook signings and notes and emails. That was reallyreally nice. Now, Birthday Roundup... continued:
My girlfriend/same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/party-thrower threw a “Birthday Bowling Bonanza” in honor of my birth last Friday, and ALL THE LADIES showed up, most in BOWLING SHIRTS (oy!) and we TORE THE ROOF OFF of A new joint in town called “LUCKY STRIKE”, which is kind of a “hipster”(whatever) bowling alley/lounge/bar in Hollywood. Now, mind you, there’s NOT A REAL BOWLER among us, but… GIFTS and GOODTIMES and ALL THE LADIES and TEQUILA and MUSIC and BOWLING were had by all. Welcome to 39, now go home.
Happy Birthday to me.
This brings me, working backwards, to:
A BILL and SUE update-of sorts.
I’ve been putting this off, as it’s been teetering between heartbreaking and mind-blowing…. But put off, no more, can I. So much has happened, that I’m going to break it down into EVENTS.
When last I updated y’all on SUE, she was asking Bill for a divorce, but wasn’t going to tell him about, as she called it, “The WOMEN part”.
Wow, ouch. So, Bill was supposed to just come to terms with the fact that FINALLY, after 35 YEARS of sharing a home, cats and miniatures, it was all going to be over. Poof! I worried about poor Bill. I worried that he’d be driving himself crazy wondering if it was something he had done, perhaps not putting enough care into the little signs he crafted for their miniatures: “Ye Olde Inn”. Hmm, maybe he should have been more creative, actually giving the Inn a name, like “Bill and Sue’s Ye Olde Inn”.
I was also worried that Bill would take their cats and place them under bright lights and question them about Sue’s daily activities while he was gone at work. I imagined him placing the bright lights right over little fluffy and furball (not their real names) nestled in their “donuts” and he’d be pacing, and he’d ask ‘em :”Come on, you hear her on the phone… who’s she been talking to?” “You’ve seen her feet, has she been wearing new shoes lately?” That's right..this worried and somewhat preoccupied me.
So, a few days passed after Sue’s BIG ANNOUNCEMENT to us... and then a few weeks, and the USUAL, very LIKE-CLOCKWORK-ROUTINE of BILL and SUE’s vanished.
VANISHED. No more ROUTINE.
SUE no longer labored long hours out in her garage on the miniatures; Bill still came home at 12 noon everyday, but they no longer sat out on their porch with lunch and a cocktail; Bill stopped humming and whistling the tunes of a happy cat/miniatures enthusiast. Silence.
A week or so later, our phone rang and the caller ID said: “Bill and Sue from across the street”.
What could this be?
My girlfriend/same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/chicken-shit and I tossed the phone back and forth, playing an idiotic game of “hot potato”, while pantomiming to each other “you get it”, “No, you get it”. This went on until the answering machine picked up and it was SUE’s voice saying “Girls, are you there? I thought I saw both your cars??”.
The gig was up. SUE had been monitoring us and knew we were here. I clicked on the “OK” of the phone (which, come on, would it all really be OK ever again?) and said “Oh, hi Sue, sorry…we must not have heard the phone (BIG FAT LIE #1). SUE replied with “That’s okay. Do you have a minute? Can I come over??”
What now? She’s going in for sex reassignment surgery and wants to show us models of genitals she’s considering??? ((Of course THIS wouldn’t be the case, but I try and go to the farthest point possible in order to cushion the blows.))
So, SUE’s request to come over is still hanging in mid air, and my girlfriend/same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/chicken-shit shakes me back into the present and I say “oh sure, sue… come on over”.
Seriously. Literally, she crossed the wide expanse of the street that separates us quicker than any punch line to “Why did the chicken cross the road”. I think the little CARTOON-BUBBLES of SPEED were still behind her feet as she arrived at our door. I’m talking fast. She should consider sprinting. A 62-year-old newly-lesbianed Sprinter. I can hear the Olympic Committee calling now.
So, once again, we find NEIGHBOR SUE in our home, and the three of us seated (same positions as the previous time) on our living room couch.
Here’s how it unfolded:
Sue told us ALL about her THERAPY, and how HER THERAPIST finally did advise her that she should TELL BILL about, as she had called it “THE WOMEN PART”. She told him, and he wasn’t taking it well. He didn’t understand. (of course not, Sue had never mentioned it to him before; No hint of it—she never showed interest in making miniatures of, say, VAGINAS or KD LANG or anything like that).
Sue continued, asking if we would be "...COMFORTABLE, perhaps, TAKING HER OUT WITH US… maybe we could help her MEET WOMEN..."
STOP RIGHT THERE.
Yes, SUE was asking us to take her out with us… and help her meet women.
I swear on a stack of miniature bibles.
Now, imagine the position that put my girlfriend/same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/bill’s neighbor too and I … in.
“Yeah, Bill…. Sorry to hear about the whole LOSS OF YOUR 35-year MARRIAGE and LIFE and CATS and MINIATURES… now, if you don’t mind, get the hell out of the way because we need to take your 62-year-old wife SUE out on PUSSY PATROL(ish).”.
Nope. Not. Gonna. Happen.
NOTE: I don’t enjoy confrontation.
My girlfriend/same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/take-the-bull-by-the-horns-er gently stops SUE during her continued request and says “You know SUE, we want to BE THERE for you, but I wouldn’t be comfortable having you go out with us… you know, because of BILL.” I sat there with a “Yeah, what she said” look on my face, hoping that this wouldn’t hurt SUE’s feelings or drive her over the edge or both… when she says “No… that’s fine. My therapist thought you might have a problem with it. That’s okay… but how about….”
She continued on to talk about a local GAY BOOKSTORE, “A Different Light”, which is in West Hollywood. Sue asked if we’d be willing to take her down there, just to show her where it was, etc. I, of course, thinking this is a way to help TAKE THE STING OUT of the whole WE WON’T GO ON PUSSY PATROL(ish) with you said
“Of course… come on, we can go now”. Sue was delighted.
TAKING SUE TO THE GAY BOOKSTORE:
So, I drove Sue down to the GAY BOOKSTORE and she was very excited on the whole drive over.
We arrived at THE GAY BOOKSTORE and I ushered SUE through the doors and my eyes quickly darted around to try and find a COMING OUT or SELF HELP section: Hmm… Gay Travel; Gay Cooking; Gay Finance; Broadway/Barbra;Cockrings….Ah, finally a small SELF HELP section. We found her a few “Coming Out Later In Life/Married Women” books and I thought our mission was complete.
However: I turned around for one second (oh, how quickly it can happen) and when I turned around again (oy, all the turning), SUE had wandered into the LESBIAN EROTICA section. Yikes. Noooooooooo. I couldn’t bear it. I immediately headed for the “Stuffed animals wearing rainbow-colored outfits” section and tried to remove the imagery from my head. Quick enough, SUE had 7 books (one of them with "throbbing" in the title) and was at the register. Her maiden-voyage to THE GAY BOOKSTORE was almost over.
On the drive back, I Imagined a MONTAGE of SUE at play, in WEST HOLLYWOOD: SUE in CHAPS, hanging out with THE LEATHER DADDIES; Sue with 2 big bags full of SEX TOYS from THE PLEASURE CHEST; SUE, doing shots of JAGERMEISTER with a group of Ladies while SHOOTING POOL; I could go on and on, but I won’t… but I did wonder what she was thinking as she smiled a big grin and hung her head out the window like a dog on a car ride.
Here's what she was thinking:
SUE asked me what/who I thought HER TYPE would be.
((Uh oh. I hate this. I THOUGHT it was Bill))
Me: “Um, well… Sue… I dunno”
SUE: “Jacqueline Bisset. I’ve always thought she was so SEXY”.
Me: “Oh… that’s great. Lovely. She’s a lovely woman”.
((Oh no, please… please don’t tell me WHAT ELSE you think is sexy. Not today. I don’t think I can handle it.))
But, as you can imagine… SUE is READY. She’s VINE READY.
Next time: "Sue" Runs Away From Home
(but she's okay now)