Resolutions

 

Resolutions

It was that time of the year again, when everyone was fresh with the promise of a new beginning, vowing that THIS year would be the year for loosing those ten pounds, or finding true love, maybe discovering a passion, a hobby. For not letting bills pile up and for taking the trash out on schedule. In Gaycrest, promises and ambitions flew around faster than champagne glasses on New Year’s Eve.

Although most people were weathering the NYE hangover by cutting back on going out during the month of January, Beto had decided to go to Frisky’s that night in celebration of the fact that he had made it through the first month of the new year alive and well. He carefully selected gray wool slacks, a black French cuff shirt with chrome cuff links and a skinny wine colored tie. Dressed and almost ready he made a vodka cocktail (three cubes of ice), checked his curly black hair, and settled to wait.

Five minutes later, his doorbell rang. It was Paolo and Sean. 
 “Welcome!” Beto said chipperly.
 “I was going to offer you guys some pre-drinks, but by the looks of it you’ve already had quite a few…SEAN!”

“Me? I’m just getting started!” Sean exclaimed as he bounced past Beto and into the kitchen.

“It’s gonna be one of those nights huh?” Beto asked Paolo over the din of slamming cupboards.  Paolo just sighed in response.
“Why do you put up with…this?” Beto asked him raising an eyebrow towards the kitchen. 

“Well… he is our friend and I’m trying to help him keep his New Year’s resolution, to control his going out behavior, believe it or not. Plus, going out will help me keep my resolution – to be more social and finally meet someone!” 

Half an hour later, Paolo, Sean and Beto walked up to Frisky’s. Beto picked up the pace, eagerly scanning the crowd outside for familiar faces. Paolo followed slightly behind him, feeling uncomfortable in his rarely worn “going out clothes” which consisted of a grey button down shirt and jeans which unfortunately were starting to show just how much Thanksgiving turkey and pie he had indulged in. Sean bounced along beside him, going on about whatever it was that he had been talking about for the last hour. After twenty minutes of battling through the crowd gathered at the entrance, they were finally inside. Paying the cover charge at the small window manned by a rather large drag queen with a huge black wig, they proceeded through the dark hallway and into the club.  Beto promptly went off with some Gaycrest socialites he had run into, Sean went to the bathroom, and Paolo went to the bar.

They had been there for about an hour or two. Paolo had already walked the perimeter of the club three times, stopping every once in a while to stand against a wall, hands in pockets, surveying the crowd. Finally, in need of a drink he went back at the bar.  Ten minutes later, he still didn’t have a drink, but, he had found true love! Despite the pounding music and strobe lights, Paolo felt that he was in a sound vacuum. The only thing he could hear was a slight buzzing noise that seemed to be coming from somewhere inside his brain. He was drowning in Pedro’s eyes.  Wait, was his name Paco?  Or was it Phil?  No matter. He had found THE ONE.  He had known it the second his elbow had brushed against the guy standing next to him at the bar. After some small talk, here they were, staring intensely into each others eyes. About to take the leap. Promises, a future…

Paolo was leaning in towards Phil’s (or Paco’s) advancing lips when suddenly...

"PAOLO!!!!!"

...the sound of his name tore him brusquely away.  Beto was running towards him, waving his arms wildly. 
 “Help!”

“What Beto? Did you loose your tiara? I’m busy” Paolo said tightly.

“It’s Sean, you have to help”

“What’s wrong?”
“Just come with me!” 

“I’ll be back” Paolo said to Phil (or Paco).  

Beto led him by the through the  “hip-hop room,” into the “electronic music room”, past the elevated boxes with go-go dancers, and into the masses of sweaty, grinding, shirtless boys on the dance floor.  There at the center was all of Sean’s 5 foot 4 inches, humping and grinding a really tall guy with long-ish brown hair, and looking like a koala trying to climb a palm tree in the process.

“Is that…?” Paolo asked

“YES!!!! Now go do something about it!” Beto responded

“Why me?”

“Cause they won’t pay attention to me. And Enrique is your friend.”

Sighing, Paolo walked up to them, yelling their names. After being ignored for a few seconds he finally lost it.  He grabbed Sean’s shoulder and spun him around.

 “Sean!!!  You’re 40 years old!  Your boyfriend just dumped you, and here you are trying to hook up with Enrique, who let me tell you, is not only half your age, but also has a boyfriend!  A BOYFRIEND WHO IS YOUR FRIEND!!!!  Stop playing Samantha Jones, Sean!  Desperation is a color no one, NO ONE wears well!  And you Enrique, should back off because YOU are not the one that has to take this one home tonight and baby sit him!”

Enraged, Paolo grabbed Sean by the arm and started cutting through the crowd that had gathered around them.

“I’m not going anywhere and you can’t make me! I want to stay with Enrique!” Sean yelled over the music.

“No!  You’re coming home with me before you do anything stupid. I promised to help you with your New Year’s resolution!”  Paolo yelled back as he tightened his grip on Sean.  Just at that moment, he looked around to look for Beto when he felt a sharp crack against his jaw and a flash of pain. Sean had punched him. Shocked, Paolo reached up to feel a slowly swelling bump on his jaw line. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” he cried. Sean looked away apologetically. “Sorry, I…” “You idiot!” Paolo grabbed Sean by the shoulders and pushed him into the crowd that had rapidly gathered around them. Sean fell back and quickly regained his footing, coming onto Paolo swinging his arms, no longer apologetic at all. Just before his fists made contact with Paolo’s face again, a big bear-ish bouncer had parted the crowd and grabbed Sean, holding him a good foot above the floor, while Sean yelled, kicked and flailed. He was rapidly dragged away while Paolo followed still rubbing his throbbing face.

~~~ 

“Great. This is why no one wants to go out with you anymore. Really Sean? You punched me. You drink way to much, get fucked up and mess with your friends. Your so-called friends because after this I can’t really help you anymore. I’m done.”

Paolo started walking purposely down the alley where the bouncer had thrown out Sean. Sean followed him. “Dude, come on. I’m sorry, I just drank to much and… Come on, really? You can't leave me here! I said I'm sorry! Jesus!”
Paolo sighed. “Ok, you’re right. You’re out of your fucking mind drunk and as much as I’m done with you I can’t leave you here. You can sleep on my couch but first thing tomorrow morning you’re out.”

~~~

They got to Paolo’s apartment and after throwing some blankets on the couch, Paolo crawled into bed, exhausted. He was slowly drifting into sleep when suddenly sharp noises coming from the kitchen woke him. He quickly got out of bed and went to find Sean climbing on his counter tops slamming cupboards open and close.
“Hey! Sorry if I woke you, I couldn’t sleep and thought I would make myself a cocktail!  Do you have any vodka?”

“Sean….” Paolo tried to keep his voice steady.

“What? Do you want a drink too?”

“Sean, you’ve had more than enough. Let me remind you that you almost broke my jaw. GO. TO. SLEEP.” 

Back in his room Paolo started to drift off again when a squeaking, thumping noise started escalating from the living room. After a few minutes of confusion, Paolo realized that either Sean was masturbating, or beating an omelet for breakfast.

Sighing, Paolo put the pillow over his head and forced himself to go to sleep.

Three hours later his bedroom door flew open, “Morning sunshine! Wanna  go get coffee?”

“Sean. It’s five in the morning. Do you know how precious my sleep is and how much of it you cost me? Not to mention that my face feels like someone pulverized it, but of course you wouldn’t remember any of that would you?”

“Oh. About that, yeah I don’t remember much. But for what it’s worth, thank you for taking care of me last night. I feel soooo much better!”

“Well at least one of us does. Now, please leave so I can try to salvage a few more hours of sleep, and never, EVER go out drinking with me again. Good bye.”

Paolo pushed Sean out the front door, slamming it shut behind him. He returned to bed, making sure the blinds were all the way closed first. As he drifted off to sleep, he realized that maybe by not worrying about Sean so much, and everyone else, he could focus on his own resolutions. Which made him think about Paco (or Phil, or whatever his name was). Definitely, he had to focus on himself if he wanted to find true love, which led him to make another resolution:

 No more babysitting, no more putting others first, no more helping others keep their resolutions.

Sean got home twenty minutes later. He felt surprisingly good, although he really didn’t understand why Paolo was so pissed off. “Fucking stick up his ass” he thought as he got into bed. He knew it had something to do with his resolution, but couldn’t quite place it. In fact, he couldn’t remember his resolution at all.  He started to laugh, of course only Paolo would place any importance on resolutions and other meaningless shit. Paolo would be over it by tomorrow, he was certain.

On the other side of Gaycrest, Beto stumbled into his apartment. After having lost Paolo and Sean, he had run into some guys he had met in Vegas last year, and ended up making  a night out of it, much of which was still blurry. He reached up to loosen his tie – and realized he wasn’t wearing it anymore. “Fuck” he thought. He zig-zagged across the living room to his bedroom. “Interesting..” his hand had found some receipts in his pocket. Had he really spent $275 that night? On what?  “Fuck fuck fuck” he muttered under his breath. This whole resolution of taking better care of himself and his money was not going all that well. “Thankfully, tomorrow is another day” he thought. He cleared some clothes from his bed, ready for sleep.  As he folded some underwear into a drawer, his hand made contact with his best kept secret. He shouldn’t he had promised himself to stop, or at least cut back. But one line (or two) never hurt anyone. And tomorrow was another day after all. His resolution could wait.

 

Comments

[true religion outlet]

She went on to tell me how much she loathed her freckles and how she had been determined since she was a teenager to not let any of her freckles show. She avoids the sun like the plague. I also learned that she has naturally curly hair that she blows out straight every single day. And that she has a 14 year old daughter who is gorgeous and going to Asia to model this summer, but only after she gets rid of her "ice cream butt" because she's not skinny enough.