Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Thou Shalt Be Gay and Proud

I knew this was a bad idea.

AARON: Kevin, I'm scared.

I'm not even halfway through the challenge, and already I'm faced with a Mid-Term.

AARON: What if I run into the DC?

One word.

AJ: We're about to get toasty, y'all.

Pride.

BRAD: Oh, I can't wait to see how you handle this one.

I had a plan. The plan was to make sure none of the boys got kidnapped by deranged roofiers, spun around on coffee tables, or engaged to a Kardashian.

ME: Where's Aaron?
ANTHONY: He was here a second ago.

Five minutes after arriving at Prisms' Block Party, I was already failing.

It seemed essential that the boys be able to go to Pride. After all, what good was I doing in making these boys be productive members of the gay community if I couldn't even let them be AROUND the gay community?

Still, Pride is not known for being a conducive environment when it comes to rehabilitation.

AJ: Hey K-Brock, the bartender says he'll give me a free drink if I show him my--
ME: Brad, watch AJ. I have to go find Aaron.

Aaron ended up being on the dance floor, or as I like to call, the Tenth Circle of Hell. Prisms isn't nearly large enough to accommodate the number of people trying to squeeze themselves inside, so the dance floor ends up resembling a clown car.

A very gay clown car.

I managed to work my way over to Aaron, who looked frantic.

AARON: Kevin! I don't know what happened!
ME: You got sucked into the gay vortex!

I grabbed his hand, aimed for the door, and propelled myself forward.

Outside, I managed to locate Anthony.

ME: How you doing, slugger?
ANTHONY: Everyone keeps shooting me dirty looks. I think the Dick Clique has been spreading it around that I'm not a part of their group anymore.
ME: If someone shoots you a dirty look, shoot them a smile. It disarms people.

He tried it. The person flipped him off.

ME: That's it. I'm never reading Emily Post again.
AARON: Where's AJ?
ME: I left him with Brad.
VOICE: You did?

I turned around to see Brad sipping a drink.

ME: Brad, where's AJ?
BRAD: He ran inside.
ME: And you didn't go after him?
BRAD: And risk spilling my drink?

I took a deep breath, and barreled back into the club. I couldn't find AJ on the dance floor, but when I went up to the second floor for air, I saw him about to duck into a men's room with some guy who looked like Lon Chaney's body double.

ME: AJ!
AJ: Ohhh, hey Kev.
ME: Where are you going?
AJ: This guy wanted to show me his tattoo.
ME: You mean the one he got in prison?
AJ: Kevin--
ME: Let's go.

A few minutes later we were outside again. I found Aaron and Brad dancing--a little too closely, I might add.

ME: I hope you two aren't planning on making out, because I don't think my heart can take it.
BRAD: I'm so drunk; I can't even understand you.
ME: Where's Anthony?
AARON: Uh...
BRAD: Take a guess.
ME: Inside?
AARON and BRAD: Yup.
AJ: I can go get him!
ME: Sorry, AJ, he's not in the men's room...I hope.

Round Three: Anthony was inside on the box. I paid a shotboy five dollars to get down on all fours so I could use him as a mounting device to get up onto the--

Did I just say 'shotboy' and 'mounting device' in the same sentence?

ME: Anthony, what are you doing?
ANTHONY: I'm trying to have fun. Do you want to explain to me why that's a bad thing?
ME: I just want to make sure you're okay.
ANTHONY: Of course I'm not okay! I have no friends! I have no boyfriend! Everyone hates me! And guess who I blame?

Well, knock me off the box, why don't you?

ME: Anthony, I know this transition is rough--
ANTHONY: Kevin, I liked my life. I liked it a lot. Maybe it wasn't much, but it was fun.
ME: And what were you planning on doing once the fun stopped?
ANTHONY: Huh?
ME: You know, there is a point where orgies with people you call your friends and drinking yourself into a stupor gets kind of old.
ANTHONY: Well I hadn't reached that point yet, but thanks for making me leave the party early.

He hopped down from the box.

ME: ANTHONY!

But he just kept walking.

And I couldn't help but wondering...

Did I just lose one of my boys?

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