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Monday, September 3, 2012

A New Chapter Starts. Part 5


The day comes and we get to meet David. It’s true, he is George Michael in his late 20’s, tight white tee shirt, cigarette hanging from one lip, tight blue jeans no imagination needed. 

I am immediately jealous of Billy.

David walks in slow motion across the room, extends one hand to me and I hear him say blah, blah, blah. 

His hazel, sometimes green eyes reflect back light that bounce into mine. Billy jumps around behind him and mouths the words “This is the one!” while pointing at David.

Adam jabs me in the ribs with an elbow after 5 minutes of talking to David. Apparently, I am mumbling incoherently and blabbing. Billy continues to flit around David.

I am blown away by David and everything about him. While we talk, he winks I am suddenly in ‘All about Eve” and Billy’s understudy and I want to go on. It’s been ten minutes since I’ve met David. Billy now becomes whiny bore.

I have rarely felt a connection like I have after 30 seconds of being in David’s presence. I want to be his everything and I want him to want me as well. Adam stops me from making more of a fool out of myself and drags me away.

The weeks that follow become all about David. I ask Billy what kind of toothpaste David uses, how often he sleeps at his house and “Does David always smell so good?” I secretly seethe when Billy talks about David and how often they bathe together.

My friendship with Billy is spinning out of control. I am so jealous of everything in his life and I am beginning to hate him. When Billy talks about how happy he and David are, Adam grabs my hand and stops me from choking him.

I talk to Adam and tell him everything. I am a horrible person. I am a pile of shit and I need to stop.  Bill sits on my bed at night and I imagine that it is David. He has snuck in the house to break up with Billy and carry me off. It gets me through the day, but I stay far, far away.

Friendship is very important to me.

David asks via Billy to have me come to the house and have dinner with them. I am busy until he dies, I think.


Weeks fly by. I finally get a job. I am the only man working at The Dora Dee figure salon on Central Avenue. I am teaching exercise classes to fat housewives who wonder “When the place became integrated?” Daily, I am ignored by women who wear black tights, lay around in the exercise room, slip into thinness on the fat rollers and smoke cigarettes in the parking lot.

It is the 80’s and Jane Fonda (that bitch, but that’s a future story) is all the rage. I am the women’s Richard Simmons. Anyone who is gay and  in the health field is compared to Richard Simmons daily.

There is actually a Dora Dee. She is 4 feet 2 inches, has her hair blown up to Jesus and talks with a Texas accent. “Suck it in girls and oh yeah..Geoff,” she says as she slides behind the front desk.

“Steers and Queers,” she says as she looks in my direction but doesn’t explain any more before walking off


To be continued……

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.


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