Snap!

I met Mark, Cliff, and Ik while working at a tanning salon in Greenville.  When I first laid eyes on Mark, I thought what I'd bet most people would think: he's a big football player--a man's man.  That he ended up being . . . only in a different sense of the expression. 

We became fast friends.  It wasn't long before he invited me to his condo to hang out.  There I got to better know his roommates Cliff and Ik and met various other friends.  Before I knew it, I was hanging out at the gay clubs WAY more than straight clubs. 

I didn't view those men as my "gay friends" at all.  (Well, not for the most part.  There were some things that one just can't help but notice.)  This was a fabulous group of friends that wanted nothing from me but friendship.  And in return?  Extreme loyalty and even protection.  What more could a nineteen-year-old girl ask for? 

Every now and then, I'd privately reflect on how much my life would probably baffle the minds of those I grew up with.  I felt like I'd seen it all--like I was SO worldly in comparison to those in small town Minnesota.  Perhaps I was.  I didn't know.  I didn't care.  My new world was filled with shiny shirts, body glitter, and a techno version of every song ever made nearly every night of my life.  It was the best.  And it was mine.

Until one night when I stopped over at Mark's place.  We were all just sitting around watching Dawson's Creek.  Mark would throw out the occasional, "Joey, girl, you need to eat somethin', you skinny @#!$%."  Cliff would nod his head in agreement while mumbling something unintelligible.  Ik would lightly chastise Mark for being so not classy.  And I'd just sit there loving it all.  Again, mine, right?  Then Mark asked me to come into the kitchen with him.

"Girl, you are so gorgeous!  Just look at your fine, little self.  If I wasn't gay, I'd eat you up with a spoon."  He dropped an ice cube into his drink.  "Shoot, I bet you have a brother, don't you?"  I told him I do, and produced a snapshot of Duane from my wallet (not the same one from the left ;D).  Mark clutched his heart.  "Oh Sweet Jesus.  He's beautiful.  He's gorgeous like you, baby!  Only, y'all don't look anything alike.  Does he have a pager?"  (The days of the dorky pocket-clipped beeper.)  So I paged Duane for Mark.  Tee-hee.


When Du called the number back, I told him I was at this really cool party and asked him if he wanted to come.  He got so excited, y'all, because: "My sister always knows the coolest-azz people and the hottest chicks."  I gave him the address. 

He had no clue he was about to step into a condo full of gay men. 

I couldn't wait.  Why?  My brother and I were constantly trying to one-up each other with practical jokes.  I did let Mark know that my brother is straight.  Mark just didn't care.  He just wanted to "look" at Duane anyway.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door.  No one stood to open it.  I just grinned--I was so pleased with myself.  I thought: I win!  Mark hollered, "Come in!"  Du walked through the door with his friend Joey and stopped short on the platform of the foyer.  The room full of gay men was silent as they just gawked at my brother and his very attractive friend.  Joey took a mach-speed inventory of the room and was now hiding behind my brother.  Duane assessed his situation immediately as well.  I noted the look in his eyes with much satisfaction.  Ha. I win.

Just then, Mark shot my brother an overly lusty gaze--and from the comfort of his recliner clear across the room, Mark to Duane:  "Honey, you gay?"  Duane didn't miss even a nano beat as he looked Mark directly in the eye: "No, baby, but if I wasss, I'd pick you."  With a flick of the wrist, he pointed at Mark then followed it up with three snaps in Z formation. 

The room full of people busted out with uproarious laughter. 

Eventually many more people showed up as it was a big party at Mark's just about every night of the week.  Duane spent all night entertaining the house full of people with his antics.  And the best part?  He left with a girl on his arm. 

Quotation of the Day:  "Mom, you love Duane more than you love me.  Everybody does."            ~Me as a Child~

Thank you for reading.  God bless.