Whew...What a feckin' day....I thank BBC America for that word...Feck...Father Ted I think....
Anyways....I woke up cranky. Really cranky.I walked out to the living room wrapped in my blankets. After I saw snow out my bedroom window. Snow?? In May?? Whatever. I laid on the couch and closed my eyes again, and Jen and Nick came home. I got up, smoked a butt, made a pot of coffee, and got in the shower. Still cranky. Got dressed, thought about work and how the day was going to suck (I could feel it). Last night sucked, I woke up from a really weird (but not entirely unpleasant) dream, and I just felt off. I was drinking my coffee on the porch when Jen hollered out the window to me. She was holding the bag of weed she bought from Mikey last night. It wasn't worth the money she paid for it. She was PISSED. She called Mikey. When she got off the phone with him, the three of us tried to rationalize why Mikey would screw Jen over. Nick brought up the Scotty thing (previously referred to as the week I had Cancer...Scotty was a Cancer...Pretty clever eh???). He was trying to show some kind of comparison. I was SO angry with him. I'll explain later. We continued to argue for a while, then they brought me to work. It was busy. I have no idea why. Not a holiday right?? I worked like a feckin' dog. Had to stay a bit late. It wasn't planned. I usually have to wait. For Mikey. For twenty-five minutes sometimes. Nick came to get me. He had to wait. He bitched when I got in the car. Maybe I misunderstood, but I was pissed. Sometimes I don't know what to do. Today was just a day full of those times. It was weird. Got home, sulked for a while, got stoned, and tried to release some of it. The tension. The anger, frustration. I just feel SO tired. I'm trying, but it's so hard. I don't know where to start.
And now I'm here. It's three thirty-two in the morning. I'm thinking about all. Trying to gain something from it. Was there supposed to be a lesson here?? I don't know. Maybe I'm just supposed to relax. Not hang on somebody else's words. I need a cigarette.
So yeah...the Scotty thing. Happened a while ago. There was this party. A birthday party for a boy whom I don't even like. We call him the town pump. He's a slut. Mikey, Nick, and I went. We were stoned. We smoked there. There were lots of people there, some that I hadn't seen in a while. There was this boy...Scotty...Mysterious. I'd never seen him before. He was attractive. Yellow hair. Glasses. Tall. Carried a back pack. He's gay. I was SO attracted to him. We all were. Nick said he gave off a bad vibe or something. I didn't care. It's always nice to picture something that isn't there. Give 'em any personality you want. Then they talk, or you see them at their ugliest, and it's like a smoke ring. It's neat, until it starts to waver and break. Mikey had a ride home, so he stayed when Nick and I left. We talked about him most of the way home. I wished that I had talked more to him. We had a brief conversation about lighters. Mikey was puttin' on the "charm" as he does when there's a boy in the room. He had an orange lighter. I had one too...at home...not in my pocket, where I wanted it to be when I reached in. Nope. Not there. He asked us, "Have you ever seen a lighter this color??". Um, yeah...I had one. Anyways, Mikey called me the next day. We talked about him. He wanted him. He had his number. But it wasn't given to him. He had seen it on a piece of paper Scotty had given someone else. What? Who does that?? Shelly was involved somehow, she knew him too. So Mikey finnagled the situation so that he could hang out with Scotty at Shelly's house, but I had to drive him there. I was giving him rides to work while his car was dead. All the way to work. Not a fifteen minute walk away. But that's another issue...
So we hung out with him on Tuesday night...at Shelly's. And Wednesday night at Shelly's. Tuesday night was fun. I liked Scotty...a lot. So did Mikey. He was really doin' his thing. Milkin' it for all it was worth. I was busy kicking myself for being such a shy, spineless puss. And the same on Wednesday night. Except that things got different Wednesday. Scotty was looking at me more. And talking more for my benefit than Mikey's. Shelly and Mikey went for a walk to meet some sketchy guy at a bar and walk him back to the apartment. The three of us, (Scotty, Lisa, and I) stayed behind. We formulated a plan. We were a little guerilla movement. We were going to stay as close to each other as possible. Band together against sketchiness. We were stoned, and being silly. It was fun.
Mikey and Shelly came back alone, no sketchy guy. We hung out some more, and Scotty was sitting right next to me. I was trying to be unnoticeable. Trying not to elicit any kind of attention from him. Apparently it didn't work. Right in front of Mikey, who was so obviously trying to get his attention, he turned to me and asked what I was doing the next night. I told him I was working. He asked what I was doing after work. I told him nothing. Then the unthinkable happened. He gave me, Neil Rounds, angry, unattractive, immature Neil Rounds, his phone number. And he asked for mine. Made me promise to call. I was mortified. I didn't so much see Mikey change. I felt the change. I just felt it. Ten minutes later, he was tired, so we left. the first thing out of mouth was "Mikey, I'm sorry. I had NO idea that was going to happen. That was so NOT my doing. Are you mad??" He mumbled something about being too tired to care and I told him that it was his thing, that if he didn't want me to hook up with Scotty, I wouldn't. Which I meant. Truly. He told me that he was upset that he didn't get the chance. He also said that he wasn't going to dictate to me what I should do. He said I should do what I wanted to, what I felt. So I did. We hung out Thursday night. I went home Friday morning. Talked to Jen. She knew the situation. Mikey had called her at work. He called while we were talking. Thought I was in bed. Tried to involve Jen, recruit her. It became a huge issue. Nick found out. It got bigger. Shelly was telling Mikey, after she had been making eyes at me and telling me something was up and go for it, that Scotty was only interested in me to get to Nick. I should be careful, she told Mikey. Not me. Mikey. Two days later. Fuck you Shelly. I liked you.
So we hung out again Friday night, into Saturday. And into Sunday. It was cool. I liked the attention. Meanwhile, everyone else was discussing what a horrible person I was. How could I DO such a thing. Town Pump saw us out, took me aside, told me to be careful. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself, thanks.
I was liking where I thought this was going. A lot.
Then Sunday, he brought me home. I had to work. Something was off. he had detatched. I said goodbye. We'll talk soon right?? He drove off.
That was the last I heard from Scotty. It was two days before I called him. Called him again on the third. Gave up by Thursday. Ladies and Gentleman, you don't know disappointment. I was sick. I said I wouldn't let it happen. I wouldn't get so attatched. So hopeful. But I did. And I fell so hard. It hurt. And on top of it was all the shit that everyone else was saying. Mikey told me that he didn't think I was competition. Didn't think he'd have to worry about Scotty being more "attracted" to me. Yeah. Thanks. Kick me again. Whatever.
Nick still stands by his judgment that I was wrong for hooking up with Scotty. Like I stole him from Mikey, was stabbing him in the back or something. Pissing on our friendship. I wasn't wrong. And Nickolaus, if you ever read this, I WAS NOT WRONG. I will not apologize. Mikey would have done the same thing if the situation had been reversed. I know it. I got fucked over in the end.
So yeah. That's the week that I had Cancer. That's why I'm still up at four thirty-three, listening to Paul Van Dyk, wishing I could just climb in to the music, be taken away by it. I'm gonna be able to live with Mikey after all this?? Drama. Always. The Mikey Show. I'm gonna end up walking out on this lucrative contract. No more shows for this fella. I need my car.
Yeah...I'm tired. Sleep now...
