17 February 2011

Mighty Mighty Boston

"Baston." Love the town, love the people, love the history. One of my new favorite shows is set there ("Being Human"). HGTV's House Hunters was set there one episode as well. The town is kind of a big deal in my book.

My first time visiting was when one of my friends, a 9th year senior at Harvard, invited me to the black tie event known as 'Senior Soiree.' The only vivid memory I had of that night was when I went up to get a beer at the bar and some drunk gash pushed through slurring, "Give me a beer! Don't you know who I am? Don't you know I'm graduating from Harvard?!" But with all the stuff she thought people didn't know about her, I suppose she didn't know she was flagged by the bartenders and security was going to escort her out two minutes later...RUDE. Any case, I have been there several times since, learning quickly that the "Green Monster" wasn't a euphemism for a cock of one of those fur fetish types. But one of the most memorable was when I dated Benny.

Benny was the first guy I dated after college and a few months after Tiny Dancer. I figured I could put one hundred percent into this relationship since he lived a lot closer. The entire situation was new and cute, but it got old quick. He lived in the basement of his mother's house where you would think that he had privacy with his own entrance, but his younger siblings ran around no big deal and I could only sneak in after 11 when all were asleep since his Latino roots wouldn't allow such heinous behavior. As for me, I too was living at home and mother would not approve either. And forget sneaking in; my room was right next to mommy and daddy's. It was one thing when I walked in on their hay-romps, but if they ever saw their little boy put from the rough, I probably would have died.

He was putting himself through school part-time while working at a gay magazine as, I think, a secretary...I mean, administrative assistant to pay the bills. Looking back, though, I think I was enamored by the idea of taking your time with college and just being a free spirit. Yet being Penny Practical, I didn't see the sense in not taking advantage of mom and dad's collegiate generosity and spending that cash on what it was originally intended.

The relationship came to a head when it was my birthday weekend. He was involved in the gay city softball league and planned a weekend in Boston where there was a nationwide tournament. He invited me as his trophy-husband of sorts. We celebrated my birthday at Bandito’s in the city, knowing that I liked Mexican and margaritas. Fun was had by all . . . well, up until he pushed the check in my direction. And even before I could raise an eyebrow, he chuckled and said he was planning the trip to Boston. Hm. Okay, I’ll give him that, but strike 1.

When we . . . I mean, I drove up to Boston, we immediately were greeted by his teammates at the hotel. After a whirlwind of kisses, hugs, and introductions, we were at a bar boozing it up. As the night progressed, guys would come up to us to chat, and attention would be directed to me, the new guy. But any time I would attempt to answer, Benny would step right in and answer for me. I couldn't get a word in edgewise. Strike 2.

The next day he was involved in a round robin of sorts which lasted the whole day. For the first few hours, I clapped in the bleachers all by my lonesome realizing that unless you playing in the game or are drunk, softball really isn't all that fun to watch. I got up and was left up to my own devices and took a scenic tour of the town. By late afternoon, I met up with Benny for dinner and headed back out to a gay club in town. All the teams were present, libidos were going crazy. Bears were hooking-up with twinks; twinks were hooking up with otters. Benny went to grab a drink for the two of us. In the mean time, one of his ball mates came up and talked to me about my day in Boston. In less that 2 minutes, Benny pulled me away, mid-conversation and asked: "What the FUCK are you doing? I was just getting us drinks and already you are talking to other guys?" Strike 3.

I told him that I was leaving.

Thirty minutes later, he walked into the hotel room asking me what I was doing. I told him, "Like I said: I'm leaving," as I was packing my bags.

Benny: "But how? It's MY car," he said smugly.
DeeCue: "Oh I know; my cab is waiting downstairs to take me to Logan Airport," I said with a smile.

And I was out.

Point of the conversation: Always have a back-up.

- DeeCue

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