Fruitfly
Fruitfly
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The Fruitfly’s Encyclopedia
Anniversaries
One warm and windy July night I tottered briskly on my five inch heels, my arms laden with cake and a cheesy banner that said “That’s Amore!” in spangly letters. I was on my way to The Wine Bandit to celebrate the two year anniversary of our friends Gary and Chad. As I approached the wine bar, I could see through the window that the gaggle was already there. Leigh’s head towered a good foot over everyone else, Stu and Paolo were huddled together, Stu with a glass of red in one hand, looking uncomfortable in his new white sweater which I knew for a fact made his armpits itch.
“Hi! I’m here, am I late?” I breathlessly crashed in through the entrance, trying to keep the cake from falling and the door from slamming me on my skinny jean covered ass.
“You’re always late. Anyway anniversaries are a crock.” Beto said bitterly, adjusting his new pinstripe suit to fall smoothly over his teal Thomas Pink shirt with french cuffs.
“That’s because you’ve never had an anniversary past three weeks.” Leigh quickly responded.
“More importantly, where are Gary and Chad? I want cake.” I said.
“Oh honey, you always want cake.” Leigh replied. “Where is your monogamous man-friend lover?”
“The boyfriend had a very important meeting with the frat.” I responded, rolling my eyes.
Half and hour and several bottles of wine later, Gary walked in, looking fashionable as always in tight jeans and a Guess shirt with an intricate pattern on the back. Despite looking fabulous, his eyes were sad and he wasn’t smiling. Most importantly, he was alone.
“You’re late! Where’s Chad?” I asked.
Gary responded, “We had a fight. I think we’re breaking up.”
“This is an anniversary party for you guys! Not a break-up party!”
“Beto, shut up. What happened Gary?”
“We were having sex…”
“Usually NOT having sex is the reason for my breakups.” Paolo muttered.
“We were having the best sex ever, until I called him Keith! I can’t believe I’m so stupid!” Gary wailed. “It was going great, and then I said, ‘OH KEITH!!!!’ and he stopped. We were both quiet for a few seconds. Then he silently pulled away, put on his clothes and walked out the door. So I got dressed and went to his place, where he was sitting on the couch, not even dressed for this. I was totally chicken shit so I said, ‘What’s wrong?’”
This elicited a collective groan from the group.
“Two years Gary! You don’t pretend when you fuck up after two years!”
“Yeah I know Paolo. Thanks. But I just… I just couldn’t. Then he said really quietly, ‘I heard you. I heard you call me Keith’ and I denied it. I said to him, ‘No baby, I said Oh-kay! Not oh Keith. Oh-kay like, okay!’ But he didn’t believe me. He said he knows about Keith. How the hell does he know about Keith? It happened three years ago!”
“I dated Keith too and err…”
“YOU told him Beto?”
“Well it may have slipped out. Chad was asking me about Keith and I mentioned that I had dated him before you had Gary.”
I quickly interrupted. “So then what happened Gary?”
“Well since I couldn’t deny it I told him that you know, we all fantasize from time to time about someone else. He said, ‘Yeah but we don’t all scream out someone else’s name, we don’t fantasize to the point where we forget who we’re with.”
Beto interjected, “Sometimes I forget who I’m with…”
“Beto, that’s because you usually met them five minutes ago.” I said.
Gary continued, “Anyhow so then the best explanation I could give was that he shouldn’t be hurt and that it was a compliment! That because I always felt really safe and secure with Keith and now I felt that same way with him!”
Another collective groan.
“Gary! You’ve been with him for two years! Maybe, maybe after two months you can get away with that!”
“I know, I fucked up.”
We ate the cake in silence.
On the walk back to the car Beto and I carried the sad remains of what should have been happy festivities.
“You remember when we all met here five years ago?” I asked Beto
“Yeah, another anniversary. Seems like forever. We barely knew each other.”
“And you thought Paolo was sooo cute.”
“But he was dating Stu at the time.”
We walked on in silence for a few minutes.
“Do you think next year we’ll look back at this and laugh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe next year Paolo and I will be celebrating our anniversary.” Beto responded.
“I thought you were over your Paolo crush. Remember? Not your type?”
“Well yes, but that’s my point. You never know where life takes you. Anyhow, anniversaries are for remembering… and sometimes you laugh and sometimes you cry. But then you eat cake and put off the memories for another year.”
Dropping Beto off at his car I walked towards the Twink-Mobile. As I walked, I had my own fantasy, not about a man, but about next year. I pictured us at the Wine Bandit again, all of us together, I would still be with the Frat-boy, Paolo would have found the love of his life, Stu would be wearing a non-itchy sweater, and Gary and Chad would be ok.
Fruitfly
Fruitfly
About the Fruitfly | Register | Contact
The Fruitfly’s Encyclopedia
Anniversaries
One warm and windy July night I tottered briskly on my five inch heels, my arms laden with cake and a cheesy banner that said “That’s Amore!” in spangly letters. I was on my way to The Wine Bandit to celebrate the two year anniversary of our friends Gary and Chad. As I approached the wine bar, I could see through the window that the gaggle was already there. Leigh’s head towered a good foot over everyone else, Stu and Paolo were huddled together, Stu with a glass of red in one hand, looking uncomfortable in his new white sweater which I knew for a fact made his armpits itch.
“Hi! I’m here, am I late?” I breathlessly crashed in through the entrance, trying to keep the cake from falling and the door from slamming me on my skinny jean covered ass.
“You’re always late. Anyway anniversaries are a crock.” Beto said bitterly, adjusting his new pinstripe suit to fall smoothly over his teal Thomas Pink shirt with french cuffs.
“That’s because you’ve never had an anniversary past three weeks.” Leigh quickly responded.
“More importantly, where are Gary and Chad? I want cake.” I said.
“Oh honey, you always want cake.” Leigh replied. “Where is your monogamous man-friend lover?”
“The boyfriend had a very important meeting with the frat.” I responded, rolling my eyes.
Half and hour and several bottles of wine later, Gary walked in, looking fashionable as always in tight jeans and a Guess shirt with an intricate pattern on the back. Despite looking fabulous, his eyes were sad and he wasn’t smiling. Most importantly, he was alone.
“You’re late! Where’s Chad?” I asked.
Gary responded, “We had a fight. I think we’re breaking up.”
“This is an anniversary party for you guys! Not a break-up party!”
“Beto, shut up. What happened Gary?”
“We were having sex…”
“Usually NOT having sex is the reason for my breakups.” Paolo muttered.
“We were having the best sex ever, until I called him Keith! I can’t believe I’m so stupid!” Gary wailed. “It was going great, and then I said, ‘OH KEITH!!!!’ and he stopped. We were both quiet for a few seconds. Then he silently pulled away, put on his clothes and walked out the door. So I got dressed and went to his place, where he was sitting on the couch, not even dressed for this. I was totally chicken shit so I said, ‘What’s wrong?’”
This elicited a collective groan from the group.
“Two years Gary! You don’t pretend when you fuck up after two years!”
“Yeah I know Paolo. Thanks. But I just… I just couldn’t. Then he said really quietly, ‘I heard you. I heard you call me Keith’ and I denied it. I said to him, ‘No baby, I said Oh-kay! Not oh Keith. Oh-kay like, okay!’ But he didn’t believe me. He said he knows about Keith. How the hell does he know about Keith? It happened three years ago!”
“I dated Keith too and err…”
“YOU told him Beto?”
“Well it may have slipped out. Chad was asking me about Keith and I mentioned that I had dated him before you had Gary.”
I quickly interrupted. “So then what happened Gary?”
“Well since I couldn’t deny it I told him that you know, we all fantasize from time to time about someone else. He said, ‘Yeah but we don’t all scream out someone else’s name, we don’t fantasize to the point where we forget who we’re with.”
Beto interjected, “Sometimes I forget who I’m with…”
“Beto, that’s because you usually met them five minutes ago.” I said.
Gary continued, “Anyhow so then the best explanation I could give was that he shouldn’t be hurt and that it was a compliment! That because I always felt really safe and secure with Keith and now I felt that same way with him!”
Another collective groan.
“Gary! You’ve been with him for two years! Maybe, maybe after two months you can get away with that!”
“I know, I fucked up.”
We ate the cake in silence.
On the walk back to the car Beto and I carried the sad remains of what should have been happy festivities.
“You remember when we all met here five years ago?” I asked Beto
“Yeah, another anniversary. Seems like forever. We barely knew each other.”
“And you thought Paolo was sooo cute.”
“But he was dating Stu at the time.”
We walked on in silence for a few minutes.
“Do you think next year we’ll look back at this and laugh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe next year Paolo and I will be celebrating our anniversary.” Beto responded.
“I thought you were over your Paolo crush. Remember? Not your type?”
“Well yes, but that’s my point. You never know where life takes you. Anyhow, anniversaries are for remembering… and sometimes you laugh and sometimes you cry. But then you eat cake and put off the memories for another year.”
Dropping Beto off at his car I walked towards the Twink-Mobile. As I walked, I had my own fantasy, not about a man, but about next year. I pictured us at the Wine Bandit again, all of us together, I would still be with the Frat-boy, Paolo would have found the love of his life, Stu would be wearing a non-itchy sweater, and Gary and Chad would be okOne warm and windy July night I tottered briskly on my five inch heels, my arms laden with cake and a cheesy banner that said “That’s Amore!” in spangly letters. I was on my way to The Wine Bandit to celebrate the two year anniversary of our friends Gary and Chad. As I approached the wine bar, I could see through the window that the gaggle was already there. Leigh’s head towered a good foot over everyone else, Stu and Paolo were huddled together, Stu with a glass of red in one hand, looking uncomfortable in his new white sweater which I knew for a fact made his armpits itch.
One warm and windy July night I tottered briskly on my five inch heels, my arms laden with cake and a cheesy banner that said “That’s Amore!” in spangly letters. I was on my way to The Wine Bandit to celebrate the two year anniversary of our friends Gary and Chad. As I approached the wine bar, I could see through the window that the gaggle was already there. Leigh’s head towered a good foot over everyone else, Stu and Paolo were huddled together, Stu with a glass of red in one hand, looking uncomfortable in his new white sweater which I knew for a fact made his armpits itch.
“Hi! I’m here, am I late?” I breathlessly crashed in through the entrance, trying to keep the cake from falling and the door from slamming me on my skinny jean covered ass.
“You’re always late. Anyway anniversaries are a crock.” Beto said bitterly, adjusting his new pinstripe suit to fall smoothly over his teal Thomas Pink shirt with french cuffs.
“That’s because you’ve never had an anniversary past three weeks.” Leigh quickly responded.
“More importantly, where are Gary and Chad? I want cake.” I said.
“Oh honey, you always want cake.” Leigh replied. “Where is your monogamous man-friend lover?”
“The boyfriend had a very important meeting with the frat.” I responded, rolling my eyes.
Half and hour and several bottles of wine later, Gary walked in, looking fashionable as always in tight jeans and a Guess shirt with an intricate pattern on the back. Despite looking fabulous, his eyes were sad and he wasn’t smiling. Most importantly, he was alone.
“You’re late! Where’s Chad?” I asked.
Gary responded, “We had a fight. I think we’re breaking up.”
“This is an anniversary party for you guys! Not a break-up party!”
“Beto, shut up. What happened Gary?”
“We were having sex…”
“Usually NOT having sex is the reason for my breakups.” Paolo muttered.
“We were having the best sex ever, until I called him Keith! I can’t believe I’m so stupid!” Gary wailed. “It was going great, and then I said, ‘OH KEITH!!!!’ and he stopped. We were both quiet for a few seconds. Then he silently pulled away, put on his clothes and walked out the door. So I got dressed and went to his place, where he was sitting on the couch, not even dressed for this. I was totally chicken shit so I said, ‘What’s wrong?’”
This elicited a collective groan from the group.
“Two years Gary! You don’t pretend when you fuck up after two years!”
“Yeah I know Paolo. Thanks. But I just… I just couldn’t. Then he said really quietly, ‘I heard you. I heard you call me Keith’ and I denied it. I said to him, ‘No baby, I said Oh-kay! Not oh Keith. Oh-kay like, okay!’ But he didn’t believe me. He said he knows about Keith. How the hell does he know about Keith? It happened three years ago!”
“I dated Keith too and err…”
“YOU told him Beto?”
“Well it may have slipped out. Chad was asking me about Keith and I mentioned that I had dated him before you had Gary.”
I quickly interrupted. “So then what happened Gary?”
“Well since I couldn’t deny it I told him that you know, we all fantasize from time to time about someone else. He said, ‘Yeah but we don’t all scream out someone else’s name, we don’t fantasize to the point where we forget who we’re with.”
Beto interjected, “Sometimes I forget who I’m with…”
“Beto, that’s because you usually met them five minutes ago.” I said.
Gary continued, “Anyhow so then the best explanation I could give was that he shouldn’t be hurt and that it was a compliment! That because I always felt really safe and secure with Keith and now I felt that same way with him!”
Another collective groan.
“Gary! You’ve been with him for two years! Maybe, maybe after two months you can get away with that!”
“I know, I fucked up.”
We ate the cake in silence.
On the walk back to the car Beto and I carried the sad remains of what should have been happy festivities.
“You remember when we all met here five years ago?” I asked Beto.
“Yeah, another anniversary. Seems like forever. We barely knew each other.”
“And you thought Paolo was sooo cute.”
“But he was dating Stu at the time.”
We walked on in silence for a few minutes.
“Do you think next year we’ll look back at this and laugh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe next year Paolo and I will be celebrating our anniversary.” Beto responded.
“I thought you were over your Paolo crush. Remember? Not your type?”
“Well yes, but that’s my point. You never know where life takes you. Anyhow, anniversaries are for remembering… and sometimes you laugh and sometimes you cry. But then you eat cake and put off the memories for another year.”
Dropping Beto off at his car I walked towards the Twink-Mobile. As I walked, I had my own fantasy, not about a man, but about next year. I pictured us at the Wine Bandit again, all of us together, I would still be with the Frat-boy, Paolo would have found the love of his life, Stu would be wearing a non-itchy sweater, and Gary and Chad would be ok.
Well, while there is always the possibility of looking back and laughing, it is far more likely that all those involved will look back and cry, sad, bitter tears of regret. Believe me honey, I should know
Posted by: TD | Dec 03, 2009 at 03:26 PM
Absolutely fagulous!! Congrats baby!!
Posted by: Luis | Dec 03, 2009 at 03:27 PM
My boyfriend started to say someone else’s name once. For some reason I used to think only girls got that caught up in the moment. I never asked him about it but I wonder what it means.
Posted by: DJS | Dec 03, 2009 at 03:27 PM