Friday, August 21, 2009

In All Fairness

When I stepped foot on the muddy ground at the Montgomery County Fair, deep down in my heart I knew this was the last time I could beg my aging body to eat funnel cake and ride a tilt-a-whirl. But this place always possessed such a sense of adventure and excitement, and I wanted to relive those feelings one more time.

So I paid 8 USD to get in (another 8 USD for my friend) and 20 USD for rides and 15 USD for games and 4 USD for a corndog and wondered if anybody still remembers that we are experiencing a recession. I rode all the rides I used to, inwardly hoping that my now adult-sized body would not cause the entire ferris wheel to come unhinged and start rolling down interstate-270. I got harassed by all the workers to "buy a game for my girlfriend," which got to be really awkward when I replied by saying, "I eat penises for breakfast, lunch, and dinner." One, why do they assume we are dating. Two, why do they assume I am straight. Three, why do they assume I speak English.

On one particular ride, my friend got scared and grabbed my hand. I thought to myself, "Perhaps this is the moment I realize that I am straight." But when I opened my eyes, found myself looking at a female, and felt myself gag, I knew nothing had changed and I looked for ways to pry myself out of her sweaty, needy hands.

I've known this girl for about 6 years now and everyone who's met us for the first time assumes we are dating. Recently, at a party, three separate guys tried to hook up with her and each time she came running back to me to sit in my lap and tell me how disgusted she was. The next day, a guy said to me, " I heard _________ was chewing you out a lot at ______'s." Like I know what that means. But this is annoying. Girls are gross.

Anyway, the fair was too expensive and not that fun today. It probably would have been better if it wasn't 90 degrees and humid. And also if this girl wasn't "chewing me out" the entire time.

As we were leaving, I was 100% consumed in making sure the goldfish I had just won was not missing any scales. We walked passed a group of guys and she whispers to me, "Oh my God, that guy totally just eye-fucked you." So I guess she proved herself to be useful and today wasn't a total loss.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Summer Rides

Tall Blonde Alcoholic and I were going to the same party so he asked me for a ride there. When he got in the car, all I could notice was how good he smelled and how weird I was for noticing. But some guys just smell so good that it makes your mind go numb. Since I was driving and at least a little bit of consciousness was necessary, I rolled down the windows and pressed on.

I am 83% sure he is gay. Which is very relevant to me. But it's also irrelevant because even if he were, there is no guarantee that he would want anything to do with me. I hate people who think that two gay guys need nothing else but their gayness in common to get along. With that said, whenever I see a hot guy who I know absolutely nothing about, I tend to hope he is gay and believe that is the only thing we need to establish in order to get married.

Anyway, we went to the party. Which turned out to be somewhat of a letdown. It was nothing more than a get together where a few people got drunk and watched bad movies. And there I was, hoping it would be the kind of party that got all of us so wasted that I could rape him without him remembering a thing the next morning. Throughout the night, there were lots of weird moments where we both made eye contact or my leg accidentally brushed up against his. It always got my heart beating but deep down I know that he is oblivious to the tension that exists only in my mind. There is nothing between us and there never will be.

So I accepted what we were and drove him home. But before he got out of the car, he leaned over and kissed me. He still smelled good but also like cheap beer and chicken mcnuggets. When I realized what he was doing, I pulled away and he asked me what was wrong. I said, "You know I have a cold, right?"

But that last part didn't really happen.

Saturday, August 15, 2009


The DC Metro, in a perpetual effort to repair the stretch of rail between Fort Totten and Takoma decided in its infinite wisdom to shut down that segment of the red line on Friday night. And when the train operator announced that Brookland was the final stop, the passengers reacted with the intelligence that I expected.

First, they sat there for about 10 minutes, ignoring the train operator's directions and the fact that the lights on the train had been shut off. Then, they stumbled out onto the platform like confused zombies, each face looking more clueless and panic stricken then the next. (This, I can forgive. Because the who the hell has ever gotten off the Metro at Brookland anyway.) Everyone made a mad dash to the escalator and then to the shuttles that Metro had generously procured for us. And they weren't the cheap old ones either. These were the pretty new red ones with hybrid capabilities.

This was when people started to really get on my nerves.

"Where is this bus going?" "Where are they taking us?" "Why aren't these buses labeled?!" This bus is taking us to Disney World. Shut the fuck up.

Inside the bus, people continued to complain about how ridiculous the Metro is and how inconvenienced they were. They forget that places like the Amazon don't even have metrobuses. So when the train shuts down in the Amazon, they probably have to ride giant domesticated anacondas from one station to another.

And inside the bus, it is crowded so I am forced to stand at the joint between the front and the back of the bus. Everytime we make a turn, space and time are bent and I fall over onto the people in front of me.

A middle-aged woman whose life revolves around the Washington Post takes it into her hands to hypothesize why all of this is going on. She then proceeds to lead a discussion group about the history of Metro accidents and their casualties. The fact that she knows everything about Metro crashes gives her life meaning and has allowed her to carve a niche in a world that is otherwise cruel to middle-aged women obsessed with reading the Washington Post. Nine people died for her niche.

I'm also bitter towards this woman because in this situation, I tend to sit by myself perfectly quiet and altogether motionless. She, on the other hand, has already formed a little club in the back of the bus with a pretty hot guy as one of the founding members. They are having so much fun socializing and talking about all the people that have been killed by being hit by a Metro train. And here I am, sitting in the joint of the bus, kinda wishing that the Earth would open up and swallow us all.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Puppy Love

On Monday, while mowing the lawn, the hot neighbor decides to let his brand new puppy out to play and pee. The puppy runs into my yard and I turn off the lawn mower to make sure I don't mow it down accidentally and leave puppy parts all over the place. The hot neighbor spends a good 5 minutes running in circles trying to catch his puppy. I just stand there awkwardly and watch him get increasingly flustered and embarassed. His puppy runs toward me and starts licking my butt. I would rather have the hot neighbor licking my butt.

He grabs the puppy by the collar, gives him a spank, and drags him back to his side of the yard. I would rather have him do those things to me. He forces the puppy inside, only to emerge a few minutes later with a short leash. A leash that I could find a few other uses for.

The neighbor says, "sorry" without ever looking me in my eyes, which I have kept cooly concealed behind a pair of sunglasses. I say, "no problem" without ever revealing the lust in my heart. That is all we say to each other. And the cliche first meeting is over.