“The best laid plans of Mice and Men often go awry”
This is a favorite quote of mine as it’s probably one of the most applicable ones I have that applies to my day to day life and, in this instance, specifically around getting laid.
Yesterday, Axel was hurting and was bitchy and was mean and was nervous, but he wanted to get off in a way that was something fierce and decided he wanted it to be special. The original plan was that I was going to lock yesterday and stay that way until almost February when I travel again, but in the morning he took the key and told me to wait until night after he was done with me.
After. He. Was. Done. With. Me.
Those words made my mind go all va-va-voom when I heard them and we set our afternoon up, the last Saturday one before he’s incapacitated, watched a great almost to the end of the season episode of American Horror Story (this season did get better), scheduled an early dinner at this place he loves out in the burbs, and then home, where we were going to do as much as we could do without causing him a great deal of trouble. He even went so far as to skip a pain pill just so he could be ready. All was going great and I even wore a rather sexy hoodie to dinner just to celebrate. We got home and no sooner than we turned the house alarm off did we get the call. The call that would ensure that in the best laid plans, Drew was not going to get laid.
The call was from my parents who had hit something in the road rendering their tire immediately flat and destroying the rim of their brand new car. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was raining, and 34 degrees and, not fully understanding the limits of technology, they wanted to know if I could press an app on my phone to send Roadside Assistance to them, you know, cause it can work like that. Not knowing their car well yet and knowing that it was going to be a disaster if I tried to navigate them to the giant iPad-ish touchscreen to search, I made a call, patched them in and, since they were in the middle of nowhere, I embarked on a journey there so that they would have a ride home and a warm place to sit when their car was either towed or tire changed if that was possible.
This turned into three hours in the back seat while we waited, which is three hours more conversation than I had planned for the evening and, since I did have my clothes on and nothing in or on my penis, it was 1,073 ways of different than my original plan. So, as the time passed on I texted Axel with the “please take your pills, get warm, and I will see you in bed whenever I get there“.
But, the fun part, and you know I am a Momma’s boy through and through, was when out of the blue she said, “Drew, your father and I want to ask you something”, a phrase she uses often and one that, like last night, generally makes my father turn green and slink his old man self into the lowest portion of the seat. I said, “okay, shoot“, hoping to God she wanted to ask me if I had paid her American Express or if I was voting for Hillary, etc. However, the minute she opened her mouth I knew there would be trouble because of the quietness of her voice and my father’s suddenly purple hue. She said, “Well, with Axel being in so much pain and having such hard time, are you able to ‘meet his needs’ and, also just as important for your sexual health, are you able to meet your own?“.
“FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME” was what was going through my head before she could even stop talking. This was so not what I expected to have to talk about nor was it something that I ever wanted to hear my mother say. At the same time, I had to laugh at the whisper of her voice in that “she has cancer” way that WASPY women do because, I mean, if you are bold enough to ask your son if he is getting some, you might as well use the words, right? So, after what seemed like 30 minutes which was in reality 22 seconds, I responded from that non censored side of my brain with the worst thing I could have ever fathomed myself ever saying to my mother ever, which was something along to lines of the awfulness of “well, it’s been tough and he doesn’t feel good and we have tried, but with the pills and his pain, it’s just not been pleasant“. Now, as if this wasn’t bad enough, I suddenly heard myself saying “and he doesn’t like me to take care of things alone, so we just hope the healing comes fast“. WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL HAD I JUST DONE? By this point, my father was almost curled up under the steering wheel, which he had just discovered was heated, when she replied, almost immediately, with the worst few sentences of the night of “Oh, we know all about what the pills can do to an erection, you just tell Axel that it will get better and, if you two need them, your father has some extra blue pills he could try“. Jesus Fucking Christ, my mother was offering Viagra, from my Dad, while also telling me in her own way that they still have an active sex life. I didn’t have a clue what to do other than to immediately text Axel just that last part. Just the “Mom wants to know if you need Viagra?” because evidently I have not satisfied my sadist side enough as of late. And, at this point, I was sure my Dad was dead and I was kicking myself for not just changing the god damn tire myself, which, for the record and this is specifically aimed at Thumper, I can do.
Then, as if sent from a God who despises awkward conversations, suddenly yellow lights appeared and Roadside Assistance was right behind us. I stayed outside and dealt with the details after I shuttled them into my SUV to stay warm while theirs was jacked up. I also watched the inside of my SUV’s windows fog up with what I am sure was an interesting conversation. God, at least I hope it was conversation.
Nothing went further than that and not another word was said and this morning I stopped by their house to get something for Axel and it was just like everyone in the room was having regular erections with no need to talk about such. But, I am not sure I can do that again.
Finally, the good news is that she is going to sit with me tomorrow for about 10 hours in the waiting room while Axel is being repaired and I think I am going to make a rule that no conversation with me is allowed. I get really weird and darkly quiet when I am in that situation, so I plan to bring an extra battery, type and text like crazy, and just see if I can set her up with another old lady there to chat with until I need her to watch my things while I go pee or hunt for cafeteria food.
Of course, I know how wonderful it is to be my age and still have such two wonderful people in my life, but, this openness must stop.
More soon from the continued tales of Drew’s suddenly uncensored family.