Wednesday, March 14, 2012

After Our Cat Fight, We Luncheoned in the 5th floor Tea Room

With only a couple of days before arriving in Los Angeles, Woodsy's boyfriend, Norman Nicely emailed and asked if we needed to talk.

I didn't want to talk.  I wanted Norman to get lost, disappear, sprain his pinkie...anything, so that I could have one evening with Woodsy alone.

Yet, I can't resist an advance meeting. I might get some inkling of weakness, so if needed, I'd know where to plant my teeth.

Unfortunately, Mr. Nicely doesn't seem to have a weak spot. And so, Confrontation: Hollywood Style was set.

I'd written him an e-mail...all full of sturm und drang about ancient history that needed no rehashing (he can just read these blogs). So, trying to look calm, cool and collected, I pushed the Skype call button.

After 49 years of  living, the last 4 years including chemical chicanery, I've been having great insights into how my mind works. My views on sex. love, relationships, and who can lay claim to who are at the minimum, archaic, childish and prudish.
Woodsy, Norman and most likely a majority of the world population are far more relaxed than I ever could be. Mr. Nicely didn't see how he could be my rival, being a total bottom. Gosh, that means Woodsy has to be on top...and that made me chuckle. 

I can fuck anyone I set my sights on. I'm not being sarcastic, either. Wake up,  you self centered bottoms.  I do not need to fuck your ass.
Where i feel threatened by Norman Nicely is regarding matters of the heart. No surprise that when I told him this, he reacted like a cuddly ball of fur that suddenly rolls itself out flat and s in fact a rabid mink or a creature with fangs. I managed to keep composure, but many things Mr. Nicely said weren't so nice. For the first time ever in my life, I was too tired to play this game. We finished our chat, and I went back to my work.

*********

Woodsy called me 2 hours later. He is eager to get to the Coast.  Norman Nicely, the guilty huss, couldn't wait for Woodsy to figure out we'd talked. Not wanting to get into particulars, I managed to steer Woodsy away briefly, but then he barked: 'Norman says you have a crush on me...'

AFTER TWO YEARS, the message NOW sinks in?
Before I could reply with those exact words,  Woodsy, as diplomatic as an Atomic Bomb, continued,  'when are you going to get over me? This is like high school.'

I was speechless. Not only had my romantic interest been graded as Suitable For Sweet Valley High, I was being told to 'get over it' by him.
I managed to say, 'Fine. we won't call it a crush. Would you like to hear what it really is?'

Woodsy must have a spark of intuition that advised him to Stop Talking Now. And he did, for a minute, but then continued,
'Why me? I'm nobody special."
I thought that was the most honest statement he's spoken, and a key to what a good man he can be.  However, me, being me, remained silent. For about 30 seconds.

'I don't know why, and I wish to God I didn't.' I snapped instead.  (I don't help myself in these matters, do I?

Woodsy and Norman Nicely have known each other for a couple of years, I may have mentioned. Woodsy gave me insight into Norman’s backstory. My little problems are nothing compared to his struggles and Woodsy has been supportive.
Norman is not some boarding school trust fund baby nor is he an Orphan of the Storm. ....ironically those two phrases describe me.  It didn't matter. There was a cheer and a lightness to Woodsy's voice that I hadn't heard in a long time. And I knew then that I had lost the war.
Woodsy was head over heels in love with Norman Nicely

There was nothing I could do to change that. I face defeat pretty well--- especially when it's staring me in the face... in fact, I was devastated. And in less than 48 hours, they'd be in my living room.



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