More Whips; Fewer Chains

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Painting the town

Well, my friends the time has come; to raise the roof and have some fun.

All night long, Lionel Richie

After our date, I went back to my apartment and turned-on MTV. The video for that song by Berlin on the 'Top Gun" soundtrack was playing. I wondered what Grampa Charlie would have thought of that movie. He rolled his eyes a lot when the preview would come on. I veg'd out on the couch for a few minutes, being assaulted by a barrage of images.

I got up and turned the tv off.

I looked at my bookshelf. Over the years I had collected a fair number of books. I had already read most of them. "Don Quixote", "Wuthering Heights", "Oliver Twist", "The Count of Monte Cristo".

Needless to say, I loved classics. I picked up the book that my ex-best friend, Jenny Rosewood gave me for Christmas three years ago. I could never bring myself to read it after what happened. "My name is Asher Lev", by Chaim Potok. I opened the cover and began reading.

Several hours later the phone rang. I was sitting in the same spot. I couldn't put it down. It was one of only a few books that made me openly weep. In fact, I could only think of two other books like that. "Oliver Twist" and "The Color Purple". I answered with a, "Hello".

Anthony's voice was on the other end.

"I take it your date didn't go well?"

"No, I was just reading this book that Jenny gave me, years ago and it made me cry."

"That good?"

"Yes. Is there something you wanted? I want to get back to it.", I said, attempting to convey my annoyance.

"Yes, get ready, we're going out."

"I'd rather just stay in."

"Come on, you know you want to tell me all about your date.", he cajoled.

I thought about it for a minute. There were a few things I wanted to get a male opinion about.

"Okay, but you're driving."

"Wow, usually it takes much more arm twisting on my part."

"Just pick me up in an hour."

I threw on some acid wash jeans, a white T shirt, a jean jacket, and my reeboks. Of course, I had to have a scrunchy in my hair. At roughly 11pm Anthony pulled in the driveway. I met him at the door. I didn't feel a need to keep him waiting. I wasn't trying to impress him.

"Where are we going?"

"Where else? The Apartment.", said, rolling his eyes.

Anthony parked the car in a parking ramp, and we made our way onto Monroe Street. He strode into the building and made a beeline for one of the tables near the game room. Several people either gave a friendly wave or some sort of witty banter. I got the feeling that had I not been with him, his greeting would have been much cruder.

"What do you want?"

"Gin and Tonic."

With another roll of his eyes his eyes he asked mirthfully, "Still drinking that old people shit, eh?"

"I like it. It's all Grampa Charlie ever let me have."

Anthony went up to the bar and waited for service.

I took a look around. The Apartment was popular with the gay leather community. There were a lot of big, beefy guys with mustaches like Freddy Mercury. There were few women, and those that were there, were clearly lesbians. I made eye contact with a couple, who were looking at me like I was on the menu. Even women can be creepy.

I looked into the game room. There were a few men standing around in a half-circle with their backs to the doorway.

"You don't want to know what's going on in there.", Anthony said.

"I've got a pretty good idea."

"They didn't have Beefeater, so I got this new brand. 'Bombay Sapphire'."

"I'll give it a shot. Beggars can't be choosers."

I took a sip and let out a muffled, "Mmm.", then I gave Anthony a "thumbs-up".

"How was your date?"

"It was pretty great."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"No, I didn't sleep with him! Though not for the lack of trying.", I muttered defensively. 

 "Wait, you threw yourself at him and he turned you down?"

"NO! I didn't THROW myself at him. And NO! He didn't turn me down. Well not exactly."

 "Well, what exactly did happen?"

"We drove to the beach, in Grampa's Morgan; to 'The Castle', in Holland. We had a picnic, we talked, you know, the usual get-to-know-each-other stuff... And then he kissed me."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Well, he just kissed me."

"Oh. He didn't try to make a move?"

"No."

"Hmm.... He's gay honey.", he intoned after pretending to ponder the situation.

I laughed.

"You think everybody's gay."

"Well, what do you think the reason is, then?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's just really traditional."

"Or maybe he's gay.", I added.

"Fuck!", I said out loud.

One of the big, beefy Freddy Mercury clones broadcasted in a deep, paternal tone, "You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady." The whole bar laughed. I turned red.

"Seriously though, honey... He's probably just taking his time. It's like you said. Maybe he's really traditional."

I finished my Bombay Sapphire and tonic, just as the man who made the joke at my expense arrived with another one. He said apologetically, "I didn't mean to embarrass you. Here's a peace offering." I thanked him and accepted it gratefully. I finished that drink, and another sent to me by the table of lesbians, before Anthony declared loudly that we were leaving.

Anthony drove me home.

"Want to go over to Grampa Charlie's to drink wine and watch HBO?"

"Only if I get to pick the wine."

"Deal." 

While Anthony found the wine, I turned the tv on and fired up the air popper. He returned with a 1978 Chateaux Margaux, a blend of red wines. At the time, the wine snobs were particularly high on this one. Grampa Charlie bought a couple of cases back then. He knew it would only appreciate in value.

We both repaired to the living room where the masterpiece of 1980's fantasy/adventure films, "Beastmaster" was playing.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm, that Marc Singer can master my beast, anytime." Anthony said. I laughed.

Halfway through the movie I started falling asleep. I grabbed a pillow and put my head in Anthony's lap. He ran his hand through my hair. I slept. What seemed like an instant later, but was actually after the movie ended, Anthony tried to gently move out from under me, to let me sleep. I slept through the rest of the night.