Buy Me a Drink - 4. Chapter 4

Why is it that people open the fridge knowing full well that there isn’t anything they want in it? Is it some kind of unconscious drive to be disappointed? Or do they think that perhaps the ‘grocery elves’ might have come and gone while they were out?

It’s Sunday evening and I’ve just gotten back from my torture session…errr shopping/salon day with Amanda and Ronnie, and now I’m hungry! As I’m pondering the mysteries of human behavior as they relate to fridge foraging, Mick walks into the kitchen, having just gotten back from his Sunday exercise and work-out regimen.

“Still empty huh?” Mick asks as he walks into the kitchen to find me with my head inside the accursed ice box.

Before you go thinking Mick is psychic or something, let me just inform you that we’ve had this discussion before. Of course he maintains that the fridge is always empty, but that occasionally we delude ourselves into thinking there’s a roast and some potatoes and things in it…I’m trying my hardest to be delusional, but so far no luck.

“Hey dude, yeah afraid so. Wanna go hit up Kroger for groceries?” Kroger is the supermarket by the way, not just some neighbor we mooch off of.

When I turn around and catch sight of Mick I find him doing a very disconcerting impersonation of a snake with its jaw unhinged.

“Dude, what happened to you?” He asks. It’s now that I realize he’s referring to my new look. And not just the hair and stuff. Amanda insisted that I wear the whole outfit out, and I also have a suspicion that if I hadn’t kept a close eye on Ronnie he would have burned my old clothes.

*sigh*

This is going to be a long conversation, and my imaginary stomach isn’t going to be able to get through all of it.

“You know what, why don’t I tell you over dinner? You’re hungry right?” Of course he’s hungry; he just got done working out.

“Of course I’m hungry; I just got done working out.” See I told you.

“Then grab your keys…and your wallet” I add remembering the state of my own, “and let’s go to Frank’s.” It’s our favorite diner, remember?

“Sure dude…but you are going to tell me who you are and what happened to Aaron at some point, right?” I elect to just backhand his sinewy chest and walk out the door.

__________________

So by now you’ve probably gotten the impression that I just go around taking advantage of Mick. Well let me assure you that that just isn’t true…sometimes I also go around taking advantage of Jake. I kid, I kid – well sorta.

See, Mick’s doing pretty well financially. Not only does he have the ‘exotic dancer’ gig going for him, but his parents handle all his college costs, rent, bills, and a good chunk of spending money. In fact I think the stripper thing is mostly for me. No, I don’t mean so that he has an excuse to take his pants off, or so that I have an excuse to look – we don’t need excuses. What I mean is, he got really tired of seeing me working all the time and still struggling to come up with my share of the rent and stuff, and he also knew that this semester I was going to be taking a pretty heavy load of classes. So, enter my hero stage right…only he’s wearing a studded thong instead of a cape.

He started dancing back in December, and just before the spring semester began he sat me down and told me he was doing pretty well – like I hadn’t noticed that! – and that he thought I ought to quit my job – which I hated – and focus on school and let him handle the bills and stuff.

Now, I seriously did refuse for awhile, but it’s like really really hard to say no to the guy. Also, I knew that he really wanted to do it. Plus he used all kinds of weird justifications, like all he’d be doing was paying HIS share of the rent and bills now and his parents would be covering mine – yeah, that didn’t make any sense to me either. Then he said that really there was no way he could do the ‘exotic dancer’ thing without me because he’d be too worried about being hit on, so it was sort of like I was entitled or something – I didn’t buy that one either. In the end though, I gave in. I mean he does enjoy it and it’s not like money is one of Mick’s big priorities anyway; he’s a philosophy major. It’s totally just a means to an end to him, and in this case, I’m pretty sure the ‘making things easier for me’ and ‘getting to hang out more’ was the ‘end’ to which money was simply the ‘means’.

So now that we’ve covered mine and Mick’s financial situation, let’s talk about our dining status. Right now we’re sitting at Frank’s eating our dinner and I’ve just filled him in on the events of the afternoon as well as the party for Ronnie’s friend.

“Yeah man, of course I’ll do it…you’ll come and do your part right?” he asks.

“Oh yeah, sure. Don’t worry, Mick, I promise to keep an eye on your thigh,” I say wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

He laughs, “I knew I could count on you.”

As I’m pushing the last of my omelet around with my fork I decide it’s time to get his opinion about some things.

“Mick, can I talk to you about something?”

He pretends to look confused, “What have you been doing?”

With a long-suffering face I say sarcastically, “Something else.”

“Sure man, hit me with it,” He says grinning at me.

“OK, so you know how I sit at the bar and observe the cliques and stuff in their natural setting?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Well, do you think my research would still be valid if instead of naturalistic observation I switched to something more like participant observation?” I ask, deciding the question is easier to pose within the confines of sociological jargon. He’s taken enough sociology classes to know what I mean.

“Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea. That way you can gain a deeper understanding of the psyches and motivation of those involved,” he says with a grin. “What did you have in mind exactly for this study?”

“I’m really not sure. It’s just…well for some weird reason I can’t stop thinking about Ben uhh ‘Bmad’,” I correct in my best scientist voice, “and I dunno, I guess I’d just like to…well to”

“Get to know him better?” Mick offers.

“Yeah. Do you think it’s stupid? I mean like am I just setting myself up for pain and misery?”

Mick looks seriously conflicted on this point, and he takes a few moments before responding.

“I think that depends,” Mick finally concludes.

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’ll let me kick his ass if he hurts you.” Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I mean I know Mick cares about me, but he’s like this total non-violent, non-aggressive, pacifist type.

“Mick…,” I say at a loss for how to react to that. His name’s gotta be a good place to start right?

He shrugs, “Go for it, dude. Just be careful okay?”

“Yeah man, I will. Thanks.”

_______________________

It’s weird how you can have a plan without actually having a plan. I mean, I’d worked out that I wanted to talk to Ben again…but that was really as far as I’d gotten. How I was going to go about striking up this conversation, or what I was going to say were kinda lost on me.

Jake, on the other hand, seemed to have an idea for a starting point. The next time Cosmo came to the bar to get a…well you know, he pulled him aside and whispered something. The next thing I know Cosmo is once again grabbing a nearby stool and making himself at home.

“So you want to talk to Ben again, huh?”

“Well yeah, but…”

“But you’re scared?” he says gently.

“Sorta. I mean, I’m not like SCARED, I just don’t know what to say or what he thinks about me.”

“He thinks you’re hot,” Cosmo says with a smile.

“Huh?”

“Well when we walked in tonight and he saw your new look – which I think is hot too by the way – he froze in his tracks for a second,” Cosmo pauses and then leans closer, “and his game has been off all night. He’s only gotten one drink.”

“What?! I didn’t notice that!”

“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy watching him to see him.” I think Jake’s been giving Cosmo lessons on logic.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, it does,” he replies unfazed. “Now listen, I’ve known Ben awhile, and I’ve never seen him act like this before. You totally got under his skin when you pulled his own drink routine on him, and this makeover of yours clinched it.”

“So you really think I have a chance?”

Cosmo looks at me incredulously and then responds sarcastically, “No, none at all.”

I actually laugh out loud. I think that did more to convince me than if he’d just tried to reassure me.

“Now come with me. We’re going to go talk to him.”

”What! I can’t do that. What will I say?”

“Don’t worry about it, just bring him a drink. Confidently hand it to him, and then just stand next to him. He’ll talk, I promise,” Cosmo pauses and looks toward where Jake is standing a few feet away. “Jake, another Cosmo, a Coors, and a Long Island, please.”

I guess he found out Jake’s name at some point – musta been over those logic lessons –and evidently Ben is drinking Long Island Iced Teas tonight. See, I’m still observing SOMETHING. For a second I think this crazy scheme might actually work when I notice a problem. A problem in a tight t-shirt and what looks to be eye make-up.

“Cosmo wait! I’m not going over there! Daisy is with him.”

“Daisy?” Cosmo looks really confused.

“Um, sorry. HIM!” I say with frustration as I point toward Daisy unable to recall his real name.

“Oh, Matt!” Cosmo laughs. “Do you have a nickname for everyone?”

“Uhhh”

“Anyway, don’t worry about him. I’ll take care of it,” he says assertively as he stands up, gives my arm an encouraging squeeze, and picks up his moniker, leaving me to grab the beer and Long Island.

“Hey kids!” Cosmo says in a friendly voice as we approach Ben and Daisy. “Look who I found!”

I wave meekly, and Ben sort of half smiles then goes back to scanning the crowd.

“Can you lose him again?” Daisy inquires glaring at me and grabbing Ben’s arm.

“Let’s give these two some space, Matt. I have something juicy to tell you anyway,” Cosmo says with a conspiratorial grin as he grabs Daisy’s free arm – the one not hooked through Ben’s.

“Fuck you,” Daisy says lightly as he scrunches up his face, and gives me another icy look.

“Com’on honey, it’s about someone you don’t like,” Cosmo purrs.

“NO!” Daisy insists throwing his head back and pulling his arm away dramatically. Then he pauses and looks at Cosmo with uncontained curiosity.“Who?”

At that Cosmo gently leads him away whispering something in his ear.

There’s a brief, awkward silence then I hand Ben the drink and smile. I start to make a random comment about how crowded it is, then remembering Cosmo’s advice I decide to go ahead and wait for Ben to speak. I instead occupy myself with pretending to also scan the crowd. I wonder what we’re looking for?

A few painful minutes tick by and finally he glances at me sideways, takes a sip of his drink and asks, “You ready to dance?”

READY to dance? That implies that dancing was already the forgone conclusion. Why I am not getting these memos? On the bright side he only dances with his crew or one of his tricks, so at least he’s still viewing me as someone whose presence will be marginally more enduring than his rapidly dwindling drink.

“Sure,” I respond.

Ha! Betcha didn’t think I could dance, didja? Well I can. When Mick was first getting into the stripper/dancer thing I was his dance partner. Of course I only know how to dance really dirty and with impossibly gorgeous guys…but that shouldn’t be a problem.

Ben finishes his drink and, pulling my own half empty beverage out of my hand, he sets both down on the nearest table, and as he slides his hand into mine he begins leading me through the crowd toward the dance floor.

As soon as we arrive at a large enough space Ben suddenly spins around, throws both arms around my neck and shoulders, hooks his left leg around my waist and slides down my body just as the tempo of the song starts to pick up. Unwilling to be little more than the dance poll, I cup his ass, lean way back, and grind our crotches together.

We continue like this for several songs, gradually picking up the pace and trying ever increasingly complicated – and dirty – moves. After awhile he tugs me toward the side of the dance floor where they have platforms set up for amateur dancers to entertain the crowd if they feel so inclined. And entertain the crowd – and each other – we do.

We must have been dancing for well over an hour because the DJ has just announced ‘first last call’, which usually begins about a quarter to three. Finally, Ben stops and nods his head toward where Giorgio is waiting near the men’s room with a forgettable, but willing, looking brunette. I let Ben lead me off the floor and over to where Giorgio and trick are waiting.

When we get there, Ben briefly leans up on his toes and gives Giorgio a quick, casual kiss on the side of the mouth. The trick looks slightly alarmed, but before he can say anything Ben pulls back, throws himself around me, and holds out a hand.

“I’m Ben,” he says with a smile as if that explained everything.

And explained it it must have done because the dark haired boy relaxes, accepts the hand, and says, “Tim.”

With the introductions out of the way, Ben turns to Giorgio.

“You remember Aaron right?” He questions. Honestly, I’m a bit relieved to know that he’d remembered my name at all; he hadn’t called me by it all night.

“Yeah” Giorgio responds in a clipped, hostile voice which clearly indicates he’s about as happy to see me again as someone who has just noticed a recurring skin infection.

Oblivious to his reaction – or perhaps simply unfazed by it – Ben continues, “where are Matt and Dave?”

“Dave’s in the restroom. Matt already left with someone.”

“Was he okay?” Ben questions, mild concern entering his voice.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him before. I think he’s a friend of Mike’s. I made sure he was straight to get them home.”

“Hi boys,” Cosmo slurs as he exits the restroom and stumbles over to stand immediately behind Ben and I, throwing an arm over each our shoulders and resting his head against Ben’s.

“Jose’s gonna take Dave and Tim home, and I’ll ride with you,” Ben says turning to me, as if we’d all already had this discussion. It works for me though; tonight I’m more than ready to give Ben a ride.

“No, I’ll drop you off before we go home,” Giorgio interjects with a firm look at Ben.

Well, that was certainly a surprise, and to no one more so than Ben himself.

“Jose, it’s fine.”

“NO, it’s not. I’m taking you home,” he insists as he grabs Ben’s arm with his free one –the one not massaging Tim’s ass – and pulls him up against his chest. If Cosmo hadn’t still had one arm around me I’m pretty sure he would have fallen, but I quickly grab his waist to steady him.

Ben looks too pissed to speak and if looks could kill Giorgio would now be a dead man.

“We’re leaving now,” Giorgio announces, as he briefly removes his hand from Tim and holds it out for Cosmo. He clearly isn’t going to be letting go of Ben anytime soon. For his part Ben seems to have already resigned himself to the situation, and Tim just looks painfully uncomfortable and slightly frightened.

I turn my head to try to catch Cosmo’s gaze hoping he might be able to soothe things, but unfortunately he’s too drunk and wild-eyed to notice much of anything as he complacently takes Giorgio’s hand and they begin to move off.

“Wait,” I suddenly demand in a deep, firm voice surprising everyone, myself included.

“I forgot to give you my number,” I say in a softer voice to Ben as I establish eye contact. Giorgio is clearly seething, but he waits while Ben and I take out our cell phones and exchange numbers.

“I’ll call you,” Ben says with a genuine smile as he leans forward – as far as Giorgio’s arm will permit – and gives me a quick kiss on the lips.

Then with Giorgio’s eyes shooting daggers at me, Ben’s shooting apologies, Cosmo’s shooting empty martini glasses, and Tim’s shooting question marks, they make their way out of club.