Forty Eight Hours of Fun

[Originally written on this date in 2004]

This past Summer has opened me up to a whole lot of things, namely just how close of a friend Jon is and how wonderful our relationship has been.  We spent a lot of time hanging out on the beach together, far removed from everything that I have grown up with, where I am free to openly show my affection for someone who makes my life feel complete, even if that is nothing more than holding his hand.  It would be impossible to deny the fact that there is a mutual attraction which has not been acted upon because I was dating the Asshole.

However, that whole debacle is seemingly over and has been for a long time as far as I am concerned.  Just because we are living together does not mean that we are properly dating, and it is easy to explain my absence with vague reference to working.  The money does not lie, but he also has no idea that I have been earning it by performing.  Nor does he need to know because as long as I am able to pay my share of rent/bills and buy my own food, he tends to leave me alone.

In any event, I met up with Jon Monday night down at Vintage Vinyl – I did have to drop off those fliers for the tattoo convention after all.  Left my car in the lot and Jon drove up to a park in Lyndhurst where we played on the equipment.  Our conversations are always about random subjects, and this time was no exception.  For some reason I always find comfort in being able to just sit and talk to someone without feeling pressured into engaging in physical contact.

After hours of swings, slides and scurrying through the woods, a cop car came by to tell us that the park was closed.  Oh, I guess we missed the sign that had blatantly informed us the park closes after sunset.  We laughed that the officer did not even get out of his car while walking back to Jon’s Chevy.  He held me for a moment before unlocking the door to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

Drove back to Vintage Vinyl so I could pick up my vehicle and followed Jon down the darkened highway until we reached a neon lit diner where we shared coffee and more excellent conversation, mainly our plans for the sideshow come fall.  Some time around six in the morning, I realized that I had to get back so I could drive my grandma to the hospital for her radiation treatment, and he had to head off to work.  There may have been more kissing in the parking lot before we officially parted, and I was still smiling when I got to bed.

Did not go to sleep until after nine on Tuesday and I am still not sure what kept me up.  The Asshole wasn’t home when I got in, and I have no idea what time he did get back.  He wasn’t too happy when he called me the next afternoon, wanting to know where I was and complaining that I easily went out a few moments after receiving a call from “some guy”.  Oh yes, because my best friend of three years is just a random dude that wants to get in my pants, not a complete gentleman who actually cares about me.  Also, I am old enough to do whatever I want without having to answer to someone I am just living with.

In fact, I met up Jon again just last night, because it was a lovely evening that I was not going to waste sitting inside among company I did not care to keep.  We engaged massive quantities of traffic trying to get somewhere, but it did not bother me because there was good music filling the Chevy along with smoke from a joint.  Stopped off at Rita’s for some delicious water ice, where we got yelled at because we were kissing behind a guy’s van as he was trying to pull out.

Got back onto the highway where even more traffic was encountered and attempted to play some mini-golf, but the employee did not want to turn on the lights, so no dice.  Undaunted, Jon suggests that we go play pool instead.  Since I am absolutely terrible at that, I did not win a single game but I certainly had a great time.  It is a comfort to have someone you can make sarcastic and witty remarks to that won’t be offended, but instead have a quick response.  Of course you cannot put a Carny in a pool hall and expect him to just play the game for sport.  Watching him hustle those rubes made me want to burst out in laughter, but I sat and admired how skillful his strokes were.  Even when it seemed that he was in a tough position, Jon managed to get those numbered balls into the pockets with ease and walked away with quite the little jackpot.

Jon then mentions that he would like to take me down to the beach, and of course any time is a good time for some beach action, so we head out and climb into his Chevy.  A strange thing happened in the parking lot – I saw this wine basket just sitting behind a car and joked that I would like to swipe it.  Then some guy walks by it and picks it up, so I assumed that it was his.  A few moments later, a woman came up to us and asked if we had seen said basket, and I explained that someone picked it up.  She seemed a bit distraught and went off in search of the wine thief while Jon and I exploded with laughter.

His Chevy hurtled down the Parkway to Keansburg, which I haven’t been to since the last time I went.  Actually, I have not been to the beach since May, so it was definitely nice to have sand squishing between my toes again.  Wandered along the shoreline despite the fact that it was very windy and sand was hitting us in the face.  Jon thought it was funny to scoop me up and threaten to drop me in the water.  Much shrieking and pleading ensued before he put me down again.  Gazing up into his eyes, I felt as though there was something he wanted to say, but then I got pelted with a pebble or something and had to look away.

Retreating to the Chevy, we smoked a joint and spoke casually about future plans for the sideshow and life in general.  The other things that may or may not have happened in that car will be omitted and remain unspoken, other than to say I was smiling again when we parted.

Got back to the apartment after four in the a.m. and have to admit that I am feeling slightly spoiled with all of this attention.

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