Here we are on Sunday night and I have to fly again tomorrow and still have about 200 things I want to get done, though I know that there is not a chance in hell that any of them are going to be touched. It’s an odd thing when you have to live your home life in 48 hour time blocks, but, after four years of this life, I am used to every single thing except the actual leaving.
It’s been awhile since I actually sat down and wrote anything mostly because last week was another round of presentations to the same really uppity people who I pissed myself in front of and, to make it worse, it was one of those six cities in four days kinds of weeks that just wear me the fuck out. I had a goal to write more, but also discovered House of Cards Season 4 and, well, Underwood/Underwood 2016 got all of my attention.
Anyway, this week is better and it’s four days with a new client about a block from Thumper’s office. It’s the ultimate in irony because last year when he and I were showing and telling all the time, I was living like I was all fancy like Eric Estrada or something, cashing in miles and hotel points to go get naked and do “things”. It was worth every point and I enjoyed the public side of my sex because it was guaranteed and everything was a groundbreaking adventure; however now that we are more quiet in all ways, guess who got not one, but six new clients in the land of the rabbit? That would be me – the man with the Minnesota freedom because Axel’s rules clearly stated my penis was mine any time I was in and around Thumper. So, wooooo hoooo. Yes, it’s a broad interpretation, but it’s a loophole I am going to enjoy. For the record, I am not THAT bad, but the thoughts have hit me and, for that same record, I am technically going in a day early so that the rabbit and I can hang for an afternoon and evening and then maybe catch a drink at the end of the week, perhaps even with Belle. Who knows. Stranger things have happened.
Speaking of stranger things, my mother and her fixation on Thumper falls into that category. For the record, she doesn’t know anything more specific about hime other than the time I told her that he, my friend, was texting his (unidentified) boyfriend while laying in bed with his wife (and then she got all crushed on him when she saw his picture on my Facebook). She fixated on that in a sweet way one would not expect of a 70-something WASP and basically commended them on having an alternate marriage and her, Belle, for being so open minded. It’s all in the vaults here, but I am lazy tonight and will just leave it at that. After this, nary a week went by without her asking about them in some way which was always rather cute, yet weird, until it stopped last Fall.
If you remember, we are dealing with a very low stage dementia-ish thing with my Mom that comes and goes based on factors we really don’t yet understand. Every week is an adventure because you just don’t know what the clarity level will be. So, last week, during my Sunday visit, she was processing pretty well but then, out of the blue, she suddenly said, “Drew, how is your man friend?” This caught me off guard and I thought for a second she meant Axel and then I realized that she meant Thump, I think, and so I said “who?” and she responded with “you know, your friend with the really cool marriage and great wife who just lets him be him. Please tell them I said hello”. So, I texted Thump with this weirdness and then started processing before saying “Mom, we don’t say man-friend” but she one upped me and said “well, he’s not your husband so he’s your man friend”.
Simple as that, really.
But, we all know it isn’t, and, upon further prying I realized that she had gone to the movies the day before with her “girlfriends” and she was simply applying the same logic which made me laugh just as much as the optics of her and four other old ladies rolling down the highway in a S-Class without a clue in the world where they were likely actually going. It’s just funny watching that big circle of aging we are all on in some ways and scary as fuck in other.
Fast forward a week and this morning my whole family was having brunch to celebrate my birthday as well as my Dad’s, which happen to be on the same day, two weeks ago. We were having a nice time and, in the middle of brunch, and during the middle of her incessant story about someone my sister, her husband and Axel and I know nothing about she suddenly stopped and said “_______ (my sister), has Drew told you about his friend who is A bisexual? I just think that whole story is so nice”. My sister, who has my same thought process, suddenly said “honest and true, Mom, a real live bisexual and my little brother knows one? Wow, Drew, do tell”.
Luckily we laughed before I did have to tell, but she asked my Mom what her obsession about him was and why she has, apparently, asked her that question about 50 times over the last year (it’s never been mentioned to me). Axel and I were on the edge of our seats, my Dad was turning green – again, and my Mother just looked at her and said “Well, apparently none of us are having an interesting enough sex life for us to talk about, so I go with what I know”.
What else can I say? Mom nailed it again.