A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation (11 page)

BOOK: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation
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The more I thought about it, though, the more it stayed. If I tried not to think about it, I ended up thinking about it anyway, mostly because I was hoping to God no one saw it. I had to think about something else, something that was unrelated to anything currently going on.

"Oh, wow!” The woman next to me exclaimed and tapped on my shoulder. “What are those little things there on your plate?"

"Uh...” I turned to face her and almost jumped out of my skin! As much as I was trying not to think about sex, there in front of me was a blonde in her thirties scantily clad in one of the tightest, most revealing excuses for a dress I'd ever seen. To make matters worse, she was incredibly well-endowed. “They're rib tits...” I couldn't help but look at them, but I quickly realized my faux pas. “Tips! Sorry, rib tips.” I tried to laugh it off.

"Where did you get them?” she asked, politely pretending to ignore my little slip. After all, anyone wearing a dress like that had to know they were going to draw attention to themselves. “I think they ran out of cheese sticks, and those look like the next best thing."

"Um, well, you must have missed them. They were back with the breast of the meat.” I shook my head. God, I was looking like an ass! “Rest ... of the meat. Long night.” I hoped she didn't come with a boyfriend or husband who would twist my little girly man self up into a pretzel after talking to her that way. Why did she have to talk to me in the first place? Didn't she know? Couldn't she see how red and nervous I was?

I attempted some sort of explanation. “I-I apologize. I just don't get out very often, and my social graces are a bit busty ... lusty ...
rusty
! Look...” I pointed somewhere behind her. “...there's Rusty.” She turned to look, too. “Oh, damn, he disappeared into the house.” My recovery sucked! “I better go look for him."

"Have you been drinking?” She caught my shoulder with her hand.

"Yeah, it, uh ... it shows, doesn't it? I'm a little titsy ... tipsy.” I put my hand up so she wouldn't say another word. We were both aware I was making a royal asshole out of myself, but I didn't want her to publicly acknowledge it because I had no intentions of being around anybody else the rest of the night.

At that moment, Jordan and my two homosexual cousins walked up and stood in line. That didn't bother me, but Jordan looked at me and winked. I had to get out of there!

"I'm just going to go inside and see if I can scare up a waiter to bring you out some more of those cheese dicks ... sticks."

This night sucked!

* * * *

I spent the rest of the evening either out on the front porch or inside the house in one of the guest rooms watching
Golden Girls
on TV. Maybe I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, because I didn't feel I could rejoin the party and have a good time. How in the hell did my vacation suddenly become so complicated?

I only had one issue getting on that plane and that was my virginity. I wanted to lose it! However, losing it to a guy was not foremost on my wish list.

I really didn't want to deal with that right now.

I would poke my head out every once in a while and find Grandma, make sure she was okay and try and determine what time we were leaving so I would know when to come out. Finally, about midnight, the four of us crammed back into Uncle Chester's economy car and headed back to their place. This time, however, I arranged the suitcase on my lap.

"That was an absolutely gorgeous party!” Grandma remarked once we were back on the freeway. I think we all would have enjoyed silence, but she was probably worried Uncle Chester would fall asleep at the wheel. “Leon and Carma looked so happy. Actually, everybody looked happy."

"That's because they were all drinking to forget their troubles and had amnesia by the end of the night,” I commented, overtired and ornery.

"Don't you dare get insolent!” Grandma snapped. “You don't know what you're talking about!” It was easier to dismiss me this way than admit some people actually had problems. “Those people are adults and have taken care of themselves for years. A little drink at a party isn't going to hurt anyone."

"A little drink?” Who was she kidding? Probably herself, because she was toasted. “Grandma, the shortest distance those people were traveling from any given place was two pints. As far as taking care of themselves, if it wasn't for the slivers of fruit, cherries and olives, some of them would have starved to death."

"You know, Anson...” Uncle Chester sternly looked over at me. “...you're the reason why adults in this country used to hold the rule that ‘children should be seen and not heard’ so dearly."

How did his wife ever put up with him? She didn't drink. In fact, I think Aunt Virginia and I were the two people at the party who were sober. I only had soft drinks after the incident with Jordan.

Well, I had no intention of fighting with him, even though I had a comeback and the urge to make it verbal. He and Aunt Virginia were putting us up at their place for the night. At least, I think it was only for the night. To be honest, I hadn't thought that far ahead. We were going to be in California for six days, and I had no idea what the arrangements were.

This wasn't good.

Sometime later—I don't know how long it had been because I'd dozed off—we entered Sun City and pulled into the driveway of what looked to be one of the newer houses in the subdivision, which itself looked new. From what I could see by the streetlights, none of the houses looked the same, but all were extremely impressive in their archi-tecture. They weren't mansions, by any means, but they were unique for what I guessed to be a retirement community.

I wondered what Uncle Chester had done for a job during his working years to be able to afford a place like this. It had the potential to really be something grand, and I say
potential
because the area was still new. Lawns and landscaping had yet to be finished, and there was still quite a few dirt piles to be taken care of, especially in Uncle Chester's front yard.

"You behave yourself around your grandmother tonight,” He ordered after taking me aside while Grandma followed Aunt Virginia up the sidewalk to the front door. “There's no reason you need to be acting like a scallop."

"Scamp.” I was too tired to put up with this. “The word is
scamp
."

"Keep it up, Arnold."

I followed him into the house. He promised to show Grandma and me around the place the next day, since she wanted to get to bed before her face fell off. That was kind of a twist on something I heard she always said in the morning.

Whenever she first got up, Grandma complained she had to go put her face on so she looks presentable. Uncle Chester must have noticed that the excitement of the party and exposure to the California environment were causing her makeup to come unglued. I wondered what she looked like without makeup. Did she have natural beauty, or was it the lack of it that made her “put on a face” each and every day?

The inside of the house was spacious and open, but there weren't as many rooms as I would have expected. There was a large living room upon entering, with a dining area and kitchen off to the left. No walls separated the areas, which I guessed made things convenient for parties and other social functions. In some ways, I guess it was simplicity and utility all in one.

The master bedroom was off the kitchen, and the guestroom was off the living room with a guest bathroom between them. Each bedroom had a bathroom with a bathtub, too, which was a nice addition to the room. It reminded me of a hotel, for some reason, except that the lamps and pictures weren't nailed down.

"Wow!” I commented on seeing the king-sized bed in the guestroom as I set my suitcase down.

"Why are you putting that in here?” Grandma asked me, uncertainty written all over her face, or what was left of it.

"What do you mean?” Why wouldn't I bring my suitcase in the room with us? There was plenty of room for all three of them.

"Leave it out in the living room where you're sleeping.” She actually looked annoyed now. Worse yet, I had the feeling she really believed I was going to be sleeping out there.

"I'm not sleeping out there.” I looked out into the living room. The only thing besides a couple of chairs that didn't recline was a couch that seated two at the most. “This is a king-sized bed ... a king-sized,” I emphasized, “and that couch out there wouldn't sleep a court jester comfortably. Now, you can put up an electric fence down the middle of the bed that delivers a fatal shock upon an attempted transgression, but we're going to have to share."

I really wasn't in the mood to argue about this. I didn't care if she thought it was weird or sick that a grandmother and her grandson share a king-sized bed or not. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep. We could argue about it in the morning.

"All right."

I couldn't believe it. This was a first. Maybe she was too tired to put up much of a fight, but she had actually given in. I mean, this was progress!

"Would you please at least take your suitcase in the other room so we can walk in here without it being too cramped?"

"Absolutely.” I was only too eager to perform this minor concession, even though I didn't think we would be that cramped. Still, I was getting something I wanted, so I didn't mind doing something she wanted.

This was how things were supposed to work. There was no law or rule saying that two people couldn't logically figure something out that benefited both. Both of us needed a good night's sleep, and I would get that. What would she be getting out of this, though? Nothing.

I picked the suitcase up and carried it into the living room. This wasn't like her, not at all. It seemed a bit odd to me that she would give in so easily when it didn't benefit her in any way.

Ker-chunk. Click.

"Grandma?” There was no reply. I turned around and saw that the door was closed. In fact, I think she'd locked it, too. If she was going to get changed, why didn't she just use the bathroom?

Maybe because she had no intention of sharing the room with me in the first place.

"Grandma?” I knocked twice on the door. Again, no reply. Maybe that was because she had no intention of replying just as she had no intention of letting me sleep in the king-sized bed. Bitch locked me out!

I raised both fists in utter frustration and mocked pounding on the door. A small noise distracted me, and I turned around to find Aunt Virginia staring at me, standing there with both of my fists still raised in a rather unusual display of the brutality I was feeling. Her eyes grew wider than I think I've ever seen on a human being before, and she dropped a pillow and some sheets on the floor as she turned and hightailed it back to her bedroom.

"Well, shit,” I mumbled and went over to pick up what she had dropped. I barely had a chance to speak to the woman all night, and then she catches me in the middle of a quiet temper tantrum. This was once again not how I had envisioned things happening on my vacation.

The couch wasn't exactly what I had envisioned, either. To someone who stood six feet tall, their couch seemed more like a loveseat than something to be used to sleep on. I checked to see if it folded out into a bed. It didn't. Swell.

I shook my head, got changed in the bathroom, brushed my teeth and lay down. The most I could do was either lie with my feet hanging off the end or curl up in a fetal position. To make matters worse, the cushions on the back of the couch were so puffy it made turning over without falling off the damn thing nearly impossible.

"Oh, well.” I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep to take me quickly.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...

"Nooo...” One eye opened and scanned the room for that obnoxious noise. I finally saw the enemy, and it was closer than I had initially imagined. At the far end of the couch, near my feet and against the wall, was a fully functional grandfather clock. Now, I'd seen grandfather clocks that were quiet and inconspicuous, but of course, my aunt and uncle would have to choose the one most likely to sound like a Charles Bronson movie in progress. If I dreamt about a time bomb going off and woke up screaming in the middle of the night, at least I would know why.

Why not just open the thing up and stop it? It should be a simple enough procedure. But then I'd have to explain my actions in the morning, and I didn't even want to think about what Uncle Chester would say to me then.

What's the matter? Little girly ears can't take a little clock? I suppose you're one of those kids who can't take the Snap! Crackle! Pop! of Rice Krispies in the morning, either. Wanna wear some earplugs at breakfast in case the toaster is too loud?

"Ohhhh...” I moaned at the thought. The annoyance of the clock could never compare to the annoyance of that man berating me and treating me like he did. Was he that way with everybody my age? My cousins were older than I was, but I wondered if he treated them the same way, especially because they were gay. How would he treat Jordan? Hell, I wondered how he would treat me if he thought I was gay.

Now there was an entertaining thought. Tomor-row morning I could always just announce at the breakfast table that I'd had my first kiss last night at the party and decided I couldn't lie to myself anymore, or anybody else, for that matter. That would certainly get me on a plane for home a whole lot sooner than I'd expected.

I shuddered as a mental picture of Jordan leaning forward to kiss me flashed through my mind. Why had he done that? Who else had he done that with this evening? My cousins? Some part of me wondered who he was in bed with tonight. Again, one of my cousins? What the hell did people like them do in bed, anyway?

It wasn't any of my business. What really made me sick was that, even though he was gay, he was probably having more sex than I ever would. It seemed everybody was. I really needed to get to sleep before I started feeling sorry for myself again.

Ding-ding-ding-ding, ding-ding-ding-ding!

"You have got to be fucking kidding?” I hissed. What the hell time was it, anyway? Since it was obvious I wasn't going to get much sleep, I sat up and turned on a light. It was two-thirty in the morning. Great, it was set to go off on the half-hour as well as the hour. I could hardly wait to hear what that sounded like. Well, I'd find out in thirty minutes.

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