if you had told me a mere three days before that i'd be authoring such a text as the above three days hence [in which the discerning reader will note references to not merely one song, but two], i'd have told you you were nuts, but such are the vagaries of life.
it was the conversation with my mother that did it--the prospect of another disjointed, homeless christmas in the company of family who, no matter how beloved, were not her kids had left her bereft to the point that all the false cheer in the world couldn't mask the pain in her voice. i hung up with my assurances that i'd see her the week after ringing hollow in my ears, and started thinking.
christmas fell on a tuesday this year, giving me a four-day weekend--so, what the hell? on the way to work, i dropped the car off at the dealer for a full service, arranged for new tires from the guys across the street, and, three days later, headed east.
ma was gonna get a little christmas surprise.
but why didn't you just fly?
i've gotten really tired of answering this question. because, seriously--faced with a choice between spending six hours each way on the days immediately before and after christmas packed into close, angry proximity with millions of my fellow holiday travelers, subjected to endless lines, radiation boxes, strip searches, obese seatmates and god knows what else followed by a puddle-jump to my final destination; or 20 hours in glorious, autonomous solitude, surrounded by smokes, cokes and audiobooks--knowing everything you know about mkf, gentle readers, which one do you think he'd pick?
besides, there was another factor which weighed on the decision; namely
road sex
there are two viable ways to drive from los angeles to northern texas. i chose the northern route out, because it would put me within range of two reasonably large cities at about the time i'd be ready to stop for the night. oh, and get laid.
last thing before heading out the door saturday morning, i placed my standard traveling ad on the two respective craigslists, complete with ETA and expectations. and while my act may be getting a little tired in LA, lemme tellya, those boys in the hinterlands love to see me coming. by the time i hit new mexico, i had settled on a cute boy in albuquerque who wanted to put me up for the night, but all that went out the window when i got the email from
kyle
if you've never spent time in texas, then you've sadly missed out on kyle and all the kyles just like him. for some reason, the state fairly abounds with kyles--the kinda boys that, had i known they existed back when i was in college alongside 'em, i might've never come west.
he showed up at my amarillo motel room just like i knew he would--drunk, semi-belligerent, frat t-shirt, baseball cap turned sideways, fresh from a near-bar fight and stir-crazy after a week of winter break home with the folks and of course NO KISSING.
sure, kyle. we both know you'll be screaming a different tune in 15 minutes.
surprise
to my surprise, nobody in on the surprise broke. walking up behind her in the living room on sunday, saying, "hey, what's up?", watching her freeze in her tracks, turn on her heel with wide, disbelieving eyes and throw her arms around my neck, made it all worth it.
a little gutter, a little morality. it's how i roll.
oh, yeah--christmas
all i can say is, may at least one of yours be white.
6 comments:
Mine was rainy, but New Years has involved two snow storms, one heavier than the other, which fortunately did not prevent 17 gay men from arriving for a three day New Years party-cum-debauch.
Wait. I'm confused. Did you get your ticket punched by Kyle? Or did you do the ticket punching?
(grin)
Luv,
Me
will: sounds like a cum-debauch indeed.
anonymous: um, was there anything in there about me walking funny the next day?
I enjoy your writing style.
Its nice that you surprised your mom like that.
why, thank you, mark--i needed that.
So, your body still reeking of sex and you greet your Mom on Christmas morning with a hug and a kiss?
Don't you feel just a little odd about the juxtaposition?
Of course, giving your mom crabs, that's worse. I'll have to tell you about that sometime.
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