The Talented Mr. Brody
Though he only reads Suite 3100 to satisfy his narcissistic cravings, the infamous Brody's heart grew three times on Monday. Upon reading my last post, his strange and unpredictable mind was stirred into action. He expressed concern at my mounting distress and, learning that I had completed a week's worth of homework in a single night of bitter solitude, he set out looking for ways to hinder my productivity.
I was sitting, my chips and dip before me, when my phone rang. It was Brody. He wanted to know if I was busy this afternoon. I, expecting him to have something fun and, knowing Brody and his suitemates, potentially intoxicating planned, told him I was not busy. And that was when he sprung the trap.
"Good," he said, "you're coming with me to the activities fair."
"But why?" I pleaded.
"Because you've been moping around for two weeks, and you're too far ahead on all your homework. And because I said so." The click of his phone was his only salutation.
Well, I went to the activities fair with him, and submitted to his demand that I sign up for six clubs or groups that I have some intention of going to. We surveyed every table, but I came away with only four of the required six. It was then that it struck me that going to events might be just what I need to start dating again, so I scrolled back, in memory, to the tables being run by attractive and alluring females. Upon recalling their location, I moved without hesitation.
Something that I neglected to mention at the time, but will share now with a larger audience, is something that has happened to me twice in recent history : sending out the vibe.
The first time it happened was during the last week of Winter break, when Carl and I took his kitten to PetsMart to get a new litterbox. I, with my shoulder length hair and pudgy softness, carried the kitten. Carl, lean and commanding in his sharp looking blue-stripe collared-shirt, sought the litterbox. Both of us did everything we could think of to send out "No, we're not a gay couple"-vibe, but the situation was more powerful than our combined psychic abilities. Sometimes, the harder you try not to put out the vibe, the more you resonate with it. Middle-aged women throughout the store would look at the kitten first, then at the boys escorting the kitten, "aww"ing both times. It's even harder to not put out the vibe when you're bisexual (there, I said it. Readers beware!).
So, today, I found myself dragged by the collar to various tables, mostly manned by women (hah!). Once we approached a table, if I hesitated in signing my name, Brody would begin to explain how I'm depressed, antisocial, and a week ahead on my homework. Invariably, I would sign my name and retreat directly into Brody, who made a point of standing too close behind me. I'm sure the image of me, storming out in embarassment, trailed by the chuckling duckling Brody, did nothing to help what they had already decided. Gay couple. No two ways about it.
I made a point not to fight it, this time, curious to see what would happen if I acted ambivalent to the vibe. I can say, from today's experience, that it doesn't matter what you do. If the vibe is there at all, it's there in full-force.
I hope this doesn't hurt my chances at dating some of the people running the tables, though. Many girls get that "aww" reaction when they see what they think is a gay couple, but it's a whole different story when they have to--God forbid--touch you, or think about you in a romantic context.
But the real point of this post is... well, Brody can be a surprising fellow, sometimes. I'm sure that the next time I see him, his first words to me will be unforgivably rude, but that's just the age-old 45-55 theory at work; the theory, one that's been around since Brody's high school days (at a rival high school, I might add. Go War Eagles!), is that he's actually a good guy to know 45% of the time, and a complete pain in the ass the other 55%. Even so, I think today's act of kindness may have tipped the scales a little.
-Alan
I was sitting, my chips and dip before me, when my phone rang. It was Brody. He wanted to know if I was busy this afternoon. I, expecting him to have something fun and, knowing Brody and his suitemates, potentially intoxicating planned, told him I was not busy. And that was when he sprung the trap.
"Good," he said, "you're coming with me to the activities fair."
"But why?" I pleaded.
"Because you've been moping around for two weeks, and you're too far ahead on all your homework. And because I said so." The click of his phone was his only salutation.
Well, I went to the activities fair with him, and submitted to his demand that I sign up for six clubs or groups that I have some intention of going to. We surveyed every table, but I came away with only four of the required six. It was then that it struck me that going to events might be just what I need to start dating again, so I scrolled back, in memory, to the tables being run by attractive and alluring females. Upon recalling their location, I moved without hesitation.
Something that I neglected to mention at the time, but will share now with a larger audience, is something that has happened to me twice in recent history : sending out the vibe.
The first time it happened was during the last week of Winter break, when Carl and I took his kitten to PetsMart to get a new litterbox. I, with my shoulder length hair and pudgy softness, carried the kitten. Carl, lean and commanding in his sharp looking blue-stripe collared-shirt, sought the litterbox. Both of us did everything we could think of to send out "No, we're not a gay couple"-vibe, but the situation was more powerful than our combined psychic abilities. Sometimes, the harder you try not to put out the vibe, the more you resonate with it. Middle-aged women throughout the store would look at the kitten first, then at the boys escorting the kitten, "aww"ing both times. It's even harder to not put out the vibe when you're bisexual (there, I said it. Readers beware!).
So, today, I found myself dragged by the collar to various tables, mostly manned by women (hah!). Once we approached a table, if I hesitated in signing my name, Brody would begin to explain how I'm depressed, antisocial, and a week ahead on my homework. Invariably, I would sign my name and retreat directly into Brody, who made a point of standing too close behind me. I'm sure the image of me, storming out in embarassment, trailed by the chuckling duckling Brody, did nothing to help what they had already decided. Gay couple. No two ways about it.
I made a point not to fight it, this time, curious to see what would happen if I acted ambivalent to the vibe. I can say, from today's experience, that it doesn't matter what you do. If the vibe is there at all, it's there in full-force.
I hope this doesn't hurt my chances at dating some of the people running the tables, though. Many girls get that "aww" reaction when they see what they think is a gay couple, but it's a whole different story when they have to--God forbid--touch you, or think about you in a romantic context.
But the real point of this post is... well, Brody can be a surprising fellow, sometimes. I'm sure that the next time I see him, his first words to me will be unforgivably rude, but that's just the age-old 45-55 theory at work; the theory, one that's been around since Brody's high school days (at a rival high school, I might add. Go War Eagles!), is that he's actually a good guy to know 45% of the time, and a complete pain in the ass the other 55%. Even so, I think today's act of kindness may have tipped the scales a little.
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 7:07 PM
3 Comments:
I am not at all surprised that you and carl would perceived as a gay couple.
Hmm...I'd never really thought about it, but you and Brody would be a pretty cute couple. Dark and fair, Jew and Gentile, bearded and clean-shaven...very nice indeed.
ok, so this is actually the third time I've read this post and I tell you, I laugh every time
^_^
Post a Comment
<< Home