Watch What You Wish For

So I did it.

I called him.

It was yesterday after my date with CeeCee at the McDonald’s in Sullivan (believe me, that is all there is to do in that town) and I didn’t have to work my call-in shift at the mall…mostly because I put pressure on the closing manager to let me have a love life.

Everything was in place for Chaps and I to go out because after a midday text fest, he told me he was free and I told him that I may have to work. He was quick to say that he would come visit me if that were the case and of course I was super giddy.

So I made it happen, I called on my way back from Sullivan to tell him I didn’t have to work and to see what he was up to and it turns out he was already out to dinner with two of his girl friends. I was bummed until he invited me to join them and took him up on his offer.

When I arrived, I thought I had the wrong restaurant.

He didn’t look how I remembered. Despite the fact we sent each other pics the other night (and he looked just fine then), I was surprised that he looked nothing like the cowboy I remembered. He was a bit, umm…larger than I remember (hope he wasn’t thinking the same about me!) and he was wearing regular clothes (that were a little snug…and not in a good way) this time.  He also wore a black Nike cap perched on the top of his head and tilted slightly to the left…perfectly accented by the two very large cubic-zirconium (at least I hope) studs in his ear.

Chaps had been replaced by the love child of B-Rad from Malibu’s Most Wanted and Cameron from Modern Family

This was more than that awkward moment when the guy you met at the bar isn’t as cute as you remember; it was that awkward moment when you realize the guy you met at the bar was probably gay. More than that, he was ghey-tto

Flashback to 2011: When I first moved here, there was a guy I was crushing on big time we got along really well and I gave him my number. We talked a few times when I first moved here and I tried to get together and it never happened. For some reason he wasn’t interested at all and I was kinda bummed…until I found out he was gay.

If I was correct about Chaps, this would make twice. Twice my gaydar has malfunctioned.

I was a bit confused by this initial thought, but then I sat down and started conversations with the girls who were there with him. Darcy has been his friend for ten years and she’s from my city! She and I have the same accent and it was really great to talk to her. Darcy seems like a really nice person and she has a really pretty face and a great personality. Selma is about ten years older than me and she seems a bit, well…rough. You can tell life has not always been a picnic for her and she has just the right amount of bitterness and good humor to make a good (not sloppy) drinking buddy.

These are the kind of women that love gay men and gay men love them right back.

Yes, I realize it is not fair of me to assume things of Chaps based on my experiences and the state of my previous reality from the time I left it fifteen months ago; I just don’t know how I could be wrong about this.

He is also a major over-sharer. I learned more about him than I should ever know about anybody once I meet them for the first time.

Or ever.

Darcy would sometimes preempt a story by asking him “Do you really want to tell this story right now?” and he would think better of it. Based on the things I was already privy to, I am slightly afraid of the stories he did not tell.

As our conversation continued (I didn’t get a word in edgewise. Me? Not get a word in? Rare), I started to notice what he said and how he said them like how he called his brother “trash” and  his incredibly flamboyant mannerisms (I am pretty sure he gave something two snaps up), his love of brands (he called his wallet his “Coach”) and bitter commentary on life. Not to mention the fact he did go to beauty school…so he could do hair with his grandmother.

This man has to be gay.

I felt like I was in a crossover episode of Punk’d and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I did not know the person sitting next to me at all.

What. Happened?

What happened to the attractive guy I have been texting for the last two weeks? He is hilarious, considerate, let’s me talk and share’s appropriate amounts of information about himself. I really like him.

After dinner all of us went to his place for drinks (I made sure to call friends to let them know where I was going) and I got to know Darcy and Selma a bit better. They are pretty cool girls. I really like Darcy; she seems like someone I would be friends with on my own. It might just be the city connection (even though she is a Sox fan), but she seems really genuine and tough really great qualities in a friend and fellow city girl. Selma is nice and she does have a good sense of humor. 

The conversation was fine we listened to 80’s music, laughed, told crazy stories while I sat on the couch with Darcy and he shared the love seat with Selma. He didn’t even try to sit next to me (or come to think of it, pay any attention to me). I was OK with the seating arrangements, it gave me a chance to observe him playing with his cat (a boy cat who donned a blingy silver color and a fur cat toy fashioned into a boa) while I was working to figure out a way to make just Darcy and Selma my friends without it being awkward. Throughout the course of the night, I was starting to be on the fence about his alleged gayness and then I had to go to the bathroom.

This was what I found on the edge of the tub:

I have no doubt that this was there on purpose. On. Purpose. I don't even have a decorative vase of fake flowers in my bathroom! I had to whip my phone out and text CeeCee and Prue about it. I had been keeping them in the loop about my suspicions and they had to know about progress on my end. CeeCee was helping me interpret the “signs” (she asked if he had #chaps-swag—all the girls think Brad is gay) and being a cheerleader while Prue was doing some detective work. Terre Haute is the biggest small town in America; someone was bound to know something.

It was getting late and I had to get home to pack for a work trip (in Orlando!), but we were in the middle of a conversation and I needed to find an out when I don’t know how it came up, but I told them I named my car Mona and Chaps was all “You name your car?” in a tone of voice that insinuated how weird he felt that was. And I promptly responded “You think that’s weird? You have a boy cat that is wearing a blinged-out collar and a feather boa!” The girls laughed and he got up and said “Oh that’s nothing,” walked into the hall closet and that was when it happened:

Chaps came out of the closet…holding a hanger with at least 15-20 cat collars on it. They all had varying degrees of fanciness and bling, but when he pointed out the Ed Hardy one; I knew it was time to go.

I said my goodbyes, thanked him for the invite and practically ran to my car so I could call Prue.

What the hell?  How did I read that all wrong? I thought he wanted a girlfriend, not another girl to add to his gay harem!

I told Sassy the other day that this all felt too easy. How we met, that he was not afraid to be bold enough to sing that song and make the first move. Yep, too good to be true.

Turns out he is most likely a gay man without a filter.

I shouldn’t be surprised; of course every man in my life has to be gay or a priest.

To be fair, I did have a friend all through college that was extremely effeminate and overweight so everyone assumed he was gay…even me as I was one of many girls he befriended. He made the best shopping buddy, bitter commentary buddy and show tunes singing buddy a girl could want, there was no reason to think he was straight so we all just waited patiently for him to figure it out for himself. Fifteen years later, he is still all of those things minus a hundred pounds and no one really gets the gay vibe anymore.

On the way to the airport this morning, I was wondering if that was the case with Chaps.

 I was telling Annette that somewhere in this person I met last night was my original Chaps and maybe, just maybe I should give him another chance. I mean, when I got home and was finishing up packing he texted  to check in and we slipped into our easy banter and humor and I almost forgot how odd the night had been for me.(If all else fails, we could just have text. I can’t be the first girl to use a guy for what he could do with his thumbs.)  That was when Annette ushered me back to reality and said “You could be right about finding that guy you know, but he will still have that cat.”

Right. The Cat. He was super devoted to that cat. Did I forget to mention the only picture in the whole place (among all of the Party Lite candles) was a framed photo of that cat?

Yea…

“I guess I will have to wait until that cat dies,” I said, “and I don’t have that kind of time.”

“No you don't,” said Annette, “but he’ll just get another cat. He’s got all those collars.”

Let Me Out! Let Me Out!

This is bad.

I knew this would happen, yet I didn’t see it coming. Now I am stuck here trying to figure out both how I got myself into this and how to get out of it.

I, Lainie Mac, am trapped.

This is no ordinary trap! This one is well crafted complete with compliments, check-ins (he wanted to make sure I made it home OK for the holiday) and Mr. Smiley and all of his cousins.

I am in a text trap.

They always start out saying something like “Hey pretty lady/ beautiful/sweetness,” (giddy every single time) and we communicate about our day, make jokes, flirt, make plans for our trip to New York City I called him on his bluff for that last one and asked him when we would leave to which I got an “umm, idk” and I responded “Tease.”

I didn’t hear from him until the next day.

Working against us are bad timing (I have been busy with work and a class I took in Indy last weekend and he has been sick) and the possibility that he may not be that into me. But I really want him to be…at least long enough to buy me dinner and to make out, of course.

Under the advisement of friends, I have been careful to keep the texting more flirty than friendly or I will get stuck where I have always been…the friend zone. That dreaded awful place where I spend most of my relationships with men and that is about to change.

Once I am free from this trap!

Don’t get me wrong, I am having great text. The most amazing text of my life even, I crack him up, he cracks me up. We are starting to understand each others humor and I don’t have to explain myself or check to make sure he wasn’t offended if I make a joke at his expense. I can tell he actually appreciates my inappropriate jokes. Last night, he was at he boat with a friend and I told him to win lots of money because mama needs a new pair of shoes and he told me he would win me some cash and I responded (maybe a little too quickly) “no ones…I left that life behind” and I got an “lmao” and I am sure he did have to regain his composure on the other end of the phone. He’s starting to call me on my crap like I have started to call him on his. We have a pretty good relationship.

You know, for two people that have never really talked.

Chaps needs to get a move on because the last guy I had a purely textual relationship with got kicked to the curb…after about six months.

33 years old in 25 days Lainie does not have that kind of time.

Also, I am ready to get to know Chaps for real. We barely had a conversation the night we met and the guy I have been texting sounds like a blast and seems confident enough not to be intimidated by personality (or maybe he is and that’s the problem). Either way, I need him to piss or get off the pot. (Wait. Am I the pot in this scenario? I am not trying to get pissed on.)

I am trying to stay even keel about all of this even though I keep thinking of every possible scenario why he isn’t texting me and how I am going to end up alone juxtaposed with planning our wedding and naming our children.

I know, I know, I am a mess.

The key is to successfully grab a hold of Crazy Girl Lainie and lock her away while Rational and Level-headed Lainie figures this all out.

Just one problem: I don’t know where to find Rational and Level-Headed Lainie.

She went on vacay and there is no cell service where she is.

Cowboy Take Me Away

I was super late to karaoke last Wednesday night and when I arrived everyone was in a frenzy for two reasons:

One: They had all been calling and texting and I was not answering. I’d left my phone at home and though I knew I would be late to karaoke, I hadn’t known that I would be two hours late. They were about to leave and look for me an Mona thinking the both of us were wrapped around a tree.

And Two:

They had found me a cowboy and they couldn’t wait for me to meet him!

From what I could make out from their excited tones (and frantic pointing), he was tall and cute. He also had a great singing voice and he seemed like he would be a nice guy (yes, but does he love the Lord? A true cowboy would.)

I decided to check him out for myself, he was wearing a cowboy shirt and boots so he definitely looked the part (all he was missing were chaps and the ten-gallon hat) and he was super tall and not a bean pole. I could get with this, but I had no idea how I was going to make this happen.

It was my turn to sing and I sang “Proud Mary” which is a crowd favorite and my aim was to impress and I think by the time I was done, I managed to achieve my goal. All the girls were telling me that I should talk to him, but I refused.

A while back I decided that I was done breaking the rules, I had been trying it my way for years and I am going to be 33 in a month and I am still single. Clearly, my way is not working.

So the night went on, others sang, we had a contest that he and his friends won and I was OK with, I visited with Pocket (I totally stole him from the Pink Sweatshirt Posse!) and enjoyed the rest of my night.

At some point, Prue gave a request to the KJ and he announced that I was looking for a cowboy to sing a duet with (Pocket was immediately ready to fill that role. He’s so loyal to his Black Cher) and the girls were very vocal about requesting Chaps, but he wasn’t biting. I was (slightly) mortified and Trix was quick to explain that my friends love and are looking out for me. Also, that they wanted to one day read a happy blog post.

I was in the middle of arguing that they are not always unhappy when Chaps got up to sing and he said “This songs, for you, Tina Turner.” Tina Turner? I sang “Proud Mary” Tina Turner was me! I didn’t know what to say, so I popped out of my seat and plopped n to a chair in the front as he sang John Michael Montgomery’s “I Could Love You Like That.”

The girls were right; he did have a good voice.

When the song ended, I gave him a hug and thanked him and I swear if I were white I would have been red. I am not used to guys being so forward when it came to me. I usually had to pull that out of them or just go for it myself. I knew that he was checking me out throughout the night, but I thought that he would at least attempt a conversation! I have to say that I liked this way a lot better and I was super giddy and touched that when it was my turn, I changed my song to “Cowboy Take Me Away” and I sang it to Chaps. It was super cheesy and super bold, but I had a feeling that he could handle it and when I was done I just winked and went back to my seat.

When I sat down, I saw Prue hand a slip of paper to our waiter and point at Chaps. “What. Did you just give him?” I asked with a strained voice. All Trix said was “Too Late.” They knew that I wasn’t going to make a move and instead of waiting to see if he was going to step up, they gave my number to Chaps. I was freaking out because now he thinks that I made the first move and all the books say that is a no-no. Then I allowed myself to calm down because technically, he made the first move by singing that song that gave me butterflies (baby ones).

In the frenzy of my thoughts, Pocket got up to sing and made a point of saying “This song is NOT dedicated to Lainie. Clearly she has moved on and I am moving on too!” This was happening around the time Chaps and his friends were getting up to leave and they got a kick out of it and even made a comment about me finding a better man. He also said that he texted me and then he left. I was only brought back into the moment by the fact Pocket was singing “Amazed” to every girl in the bar except me and I was left out in the cold trying to figure out a way to win him back.

As the night was winding down, I was anxious to get home and check my text messages and our KJ gave me the last song and I used it to make Pocket love me again. I started out serenading him with “I Will Always Love You,” but at some point he decided to forgive me for “moving on” and it became a duet.

 As I drove home that night, I was glad to be forgiven (and the reigning Black Cher of Pocket’s life), but way more excited for the text awaiting me at home. First thing I did was dive for my phone to read: “Hey u! It’s Chaps. U are very beautiful.

Squee!

I've heard from him everyday since.

Have I mentioned how much I love my girlfriends?

Marshall, IL. That Is All.

So the girls and I (along with Prue’s boyfriend) went to see Stacy’s boyfriend, Elvis perform his comedy act on Friday night.

Elvis is a freakin’ hilarious comic and he travels all over the country making people laugh at the story of his life. We have been to see him a few times before and we were excited to see him again.

We made our way to Marshall, IL, a town I don’t know much about (except that is near Paris, IL) and as we made our way through the streets of Marshall, we were carefully looking for the venue, a place called The Corner Bistro. We passed Fourth Street and according to our GPS it was on the right and we didn’t see it anywhere, just a dive bar with a Bud Light sign on the front and we were confused. We turned around and looked again and that was about the time that reality set in and we realized the dive bar was The Corner Bistro.

Bistro?

I don’t think that word means what they think it means.

After making our way around what seemed like the town drunks, we entered the “bistro” and all eyes were on us. Well, probably me and Prue’s boyfriend (who is also black). It was then that we all realized (well maybe just me because I didn’t know any better) that Marshall liked to keep things “light” and I was immediately instructed not to get myself into a bar fight.

I should explain, about a month back, Stacy, Prue, Prue’s boyfriend (don’t have a name for him yet…workin’ on it) and I went to Brazil, IN to see Elvis perform (I know, Paris, IL and Brazil, IN…the Wabash Valley likes to stay international). Brazil also likes to keep things light, but they can’t exactly turn the blacks away like they did in the fifties. We have a black president now, no one is allowed to be overtly racist anymore and Brazil, IN (along with Marshall, Il) has to do what the rest of the country does about racism: focus it on the Muslims or just be incognito (OK, disgusted social commentary mode is off).

Anyway, we were listening to the comics (none of whom were better than Elvis) and one of them was a black guy most likely around my age and he was super funny telling jokes about black things and how white people are intrigued by them. I was cracking up because growing up I was usually one of two or the only black going through school and I knew about the White Intrique. Then (of course) he made joke about chicken that sent me over the edge and a woman at the table next to me said “Is that your son?”

I absolutely could not believe it! I know that black don’t crack, but this was kind of ridiculous!

I looked at her and I told her no. Then I said “Do I look like his mom?” She said that I was getting quite animated and thought that it was because he was my son. It was clear that this woman was not right in the head. I mean, what was she thinking? Does she think black girls have kids as young as four or five? I looked at the crazy lady and said “No, he is not my son. He is funny and I am laughing. I also understand where he is coming from because I am black like him,” in the most condescending tone I could muster. That was when one of the guys at her table said “You’re black? I didn’t notice” and channeling Asian Jim I looked at him (possibly with daggers in my eyes) and replied “hats off to you for not noticing race” and turned back to my friends.

I was still annoyed by the woman’s ignorant comments and I was loudly proclaiming this to everyone and Prue’s boyfriend was trying to shush me. He (unlike me) had a healthy amount of fear in him about being a black in Brazil, IN and not only that; he was the darker half of an interracial couple.

The night went on with them being loud and obnoxious and me letting them know how rude I thought they were and Prue’s poor boyfriend keeping his eye on the exit and ensuring there will be a way out when the time came. I am sure if a bar brawl had been initiated, I may have taken them down and then gone to jail so I am glad the evening never came to blows…well, at least the physical kind.

So my friends were justified in their warning and Prue’s boyfriend was right to make sure there was a way out.

Stacy and Elvis were happy to see us and immediately apologetic because they’d gotten word that the show was gonna cost $20. When we see Elvis, we usually don’t pay more than 5 bucks (or at all) so we were a little surprised because despite the name of the place, we were a dive bar (Hole’s Bar Hole is what Elvis named it) that wanted to be a bistro.

In Marshall, IL.

Not Indy.

Most definitely not Chicago.

Somehow, we managed to get a deal at 2 for $30 and we were led into a room that Stacy described as “pole barn meets crack den” with couches that looked like cars and weird red tables that had uncomfortable chairs and glass table tops that I am pretty sure someone was just doing a line of coke on.

Awesome. If the cops bust this place, Prue is gonna have to bail me and her boyfriend out of jail…I am sure we will get blamed for all the crimes.

The show starts and the warm-up act was kind of awful and the sound system was worse than that, but we got through it and Trix gave the sound guy some pointers on reducing the amount of feedback we were hearing--I would think a sound guy would know that…especially at twenty bucks a pop!

The sound never improved (I don’t think my eardrums will ever recover), but the jokes did once Elvis hit the stage and we laughed and laughed.

And laughed.

While we were all having a pretty good time and his set was awesome, we couldn’t help but think it was running a little long but no one else seemed to mind so we just went with it.

At some point the thought occurred to Stacy that we’d paid more than  three times the amount we usually pay to see Elvis’ comedy and we were sitting in a room that was possibly used for the previous night’s rave listening to jokes through bleeding eardrums and he wanted to give us our money’s worth.

How sweet!

I’m pretty sure Stacy fell in love with him all over again.

And I fell very deeply in like.

Since he couldn’t possibly go all night (that’s what she said), the show ended and the comedy club turned into a dance club. The DJ started playing his songs and there were some pretty wicked colorful strobe lights (CeeCee was transfixed and I think it made her the happiest I had seen her all evening…maybe she got some of that leftover coke on the table?)

We on that dance floor acting like we were twenty five and we were stone sober.

The “bistro” didn’t take cards and didn’t have an ATM so we had to use all of our cash for the comedy show.

For real, I don’t think that word means what they think it means.

Despite our sober and cash poor state, we were having a great time on the dance floor. I mean, how often do the people of Marshall get to see an honest to goodness black woman busting a move on the dance floor…and it is not in a movie?

When we were doing the Cupid Shuffle we were doing the kick a little differently (because that’s the way we do it on karaoke nights), I turned to CeeCee and said “I am sure they think that they are doing it wrong because I am black and just have to know how to dance.” I looked up and saw a woman trying to figure out our kick. Stereotypes are awesome.

It came time for the Wobble and I was super excited because I was late to karaoke last Wednesday night and I missed it. When the song started, it was just CeeCee, Stacy, Trix and me doing the dance and everyone around us just watched. I was beginning to think that maybe they didn’t know there was a dance attached to the song they’d obviously heard at least once.

Before long, there were people on the side of the dance floor watching us and practicing before joining us on the dance floor.

Now I know how Elle Woods must have felt when she taught the Bend and Snap to the beauty shop.

I was so proud my friends and I could bring the Wobble to Marshall, IL.

Maybe they will be nicer to black people from now on and Prue’s boyfriend won’t be worried about the exits anymore.

I am always glad when I can aid in changing the lives of small, slightly racists towns.

Especially through dance.

Now I know how Kevin Bacon feels.