Soon, I start sneaking around the apartment reading every medicine bottle I can find. I follow the directions on the label and start grinding up his medication to
put it in his orange juice. In the fridge he keeps a large pitcher of it and
every day he would finish it and replace it. I start to notice an immediate
change in his behavior; Bill M. no longer speaks to invisible people and seems
to be in the same room with me at the same time.
David and I were great;
he is still working downtown at Jacks Steak House. He would come home late every night with his shirt unbuttoned, black bow tie still around his neck and
a cigarette behind his ear. Imagine George Michael coming home to you every
night, sweaty, needing a cigarette and bringing food.
I became possessive
and watched my friends with caution.
David also has a lot
of friends that make me nervous and jealous. One of them, Ralph, has steely
blue eyes and looks like a Norwegian Sailor. Not just any Norwegian Sailor but
one that Tom of Finland would create. He lingers all over the house and only speaks when spoken to.
I came home one day and they were both fully clothed and sitting on the bed. I am sure that I am not crazy and that I'm not imagining anything but what is really happening?
I came home one day and they were both fully clothed and sitting on the bed. I am sure that I am not crazy and that I'm not imagining anything but what is really happening?
David also has a
friend named Joe, who I thought was in his 90s. It turns out that Joe was in his 60s but
looked 90 up until his death.
Joe would come over early to David’s house and for some reason he had his own set of keys. One morning, David tells me Joe’s story. Joe, it turns out was a leading fighter in the Gay Rights Movement. He gave up everything and in the late 1950s and suffered through much. He suddenly had a life of people screaming horrible things at him, burning things on his lawn and blowing up his house just because he was gay. I understood, but why did Joe drive around town shirtless, car top down, while wearing ripped shorts that would peek out a testicle every now and then? It was hard for me to let him be himself because we were all supposed to be quiet and we were taught not to flaunt our lives.
Joe would come over early to David’s house and for some reason he had his own set of keys. One morning, David tells me Joe’s story. Joe, it turns out was a leading fighter in the Gay Rights Movement. He gave up everything and in the late 1950s and suffered through much. He suddenly had a life of people screaming horrible things at him, burning things on his lawn and blowing up his house just because he was gay. I understood, but why did Joe drive around town shirtless, car top down, while wearing ripped shorts that would peek out a testicle every now and then? It was hard for me to let him be himself because we were all supposed to be quiet and we were taught not to flaunt our lives.
If you were
really lucky Joe would be dressed in an electric blue thong and drop his shorts.
Joe would follow this up with a noise that sounded like he was slurping on
sticky candy, it made me dizzy and nauseous.
I was bouncing
between David’s house and my apartment with Bill M. I rarely saw Bill M. and he
seemed to be out of the house every time I would come over. The apartment was
usually filthy and I would clean as quickly as possible. Often I would be there
to grab a quick change and head right back out the door.
Today Bill M. was
home in his room. He was screaming at someone I assumed was on the phone. I
slid into my room, grabbed clothes and slid back out into the kitchen. Bill M.
was in the middle of his argument when I noticed the phone in the cradle on the
kitchen table.
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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