Saturday night--oh what a night.
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Just when the party couldn't get more stale (people were asking me to show off my dance moves AGAIN)--that's when you came in.
At first you pretended to know another guest, saying "hey man, how's it going?" Then you pretended to know the host (I doubt you knew he was the host), saying "yo, this my boy. this my boy right hee." I was intrigued by your lack of articulation and your infectious grin (infectious like the clap). And by the fact that you made friends so quickly with people who clearly wanted you to leave. As you made your way to the fridge to score a free drink, I started talking to the quiet and not ugly girl who came in after you--and that's when you really started to shine.
With your hat cocked to one side--a nod to hip hop? to dontrelle willis? to subacute stroke patients with hemispatial neglect?--you approached me and this girl. Immediately you put yourself between us, proclaiming her as your girl. And thank god i say to that, cause who wants to talk to chicks anyway. But I saw through the charade.
She walked out, embarassed. Probably because your sneakers weren't white enough.
My friend, the host, he decided that it was time for you to go. He was even kind about it, trying to puff up your manhood by proclaiming that "you look like the kind of guy who could pound a beer easily." Why did you not just pound it and go? Maybe you knew that our connection needed time to develop. People get angry when prevented from pursuing a romantic interest, and that's exactly what happened. You got all up in my friend's grill, and *what?* Did he not want you at the party any more? You were just trying to be friendly, after all. That's total bullshit, to be kicked out like that.
Push could have come to shove, except that someone suggested that you guys just go outside, calm down, and talk about it. Well, them's fightin' words, and you knew it. No one would actually want to remove a disruption from a party in order to let people return to jubilation while you settled a problem rationally. No, you got an invitation to fisticuffs, rsvp NOW. I helped walk you outside, and then--
I don't know why I did it. I slammed the door shut behind you and locked it. Almost as if I couldn't face the attraction that had been building. True, everyone else at the party hated you and thought you were an idiot. Which you probably are. But I just want you to understand why *I* did what I did. Because you weren't happy about it.
Some 10-15 minutes later, you were back. Overturning the trashcans in my friend's yard. Something tells me that you'd appreciate the fact that that sentence was not a complete sentence. You, yourself, feel incomplete. Were you symbolically overturning the dominant social structure that oppresses relationships like ours? Were you trying to rub our noses in the rotting rubbish that accumulates when we blindly throw away ingredients that don't fit into the standard recipes that society dictates? Or were you trying to say that the content of those cans wasn't trash--that it was all recyclable, all of some value that we hadn't previously recognized? I guess I'll never know because you ran away screaming when I came outside and threatened to call the police.
I'm not gay. But you aren't either. And that's what makes this so special.
No, I'm not drunk.