Ten Tremont - Chapter 8
In which Marc Spencer presents with lower back pain....
David Cameron’s nurse-receptionist showed me into his treatment room and told me to strip to my skivvies. I did, and then I sat on the end of his examining table and waited for him to come in. What the fuck am I doing here? I wondered. Sneaking around so that I can find out about a guy? This is so high school.
Trying to interrogate David was Adrian’s idea, of course. He’s the one who thinks outside the box; I’m the guy who colors inside the lines. You ask a designer to do some work for you, you expect creativity. You ask an anesthesiologist to put you to sleep, you damn well want him to calculate your dosages exactly. I was definitely outside my comfort zone.
It had taken a bit of planning to get me ready to see David. First of all, who was I? I didn’t think presenting myself as an anesthesiologist and an Assistant Professor at Carnegie-Mellon Medical Center would be very believable. Why wouldn’t I go to the department’s Pain Clinic? I would, of course. So I demoted myself to Nurse-Anesthetist. At least I could talk intelligently about my work if the subject came up.
Next question: where do I live? Not right across the alley from Brian Kinney, that’s for sure. First I thought I’d just use my old address, but then I thought that if David sent me any mail there, it would bounce and perhaps arouse suspicions unnecessarily. Instead I used my parents’ address. My Dad is Marc A. Spencer; I’m Marc P. Spencer; he might not even notice he’d gotten my mail if David sent him some advertising. Heaven knows we’ve gotten each other’s mail often enough in the past.
Adrian prints out his own business cards, complete with his logo in two colors. A logo in two colors was beyond me, but I figured I could do a plain business card, so I liberated a sheet of his expensive card stock. Lining up and centering the text turned out to be a bit more challenging than I expected, so I had to liberate a second and third sheet (Sorry, Adrian. This was your idea.) before I achieved this:
Marc Spencer, C.R.N.A.
2224 Rustic Lane
Mt. Olive, PA 15325
(724)-627-5252
I apologized mentally to my father for any mysterious mailings or phone calls he might get in the future, stuck a couple of cards in my wallet, and went to keep my appointment with David.
When he finally came into the examining room, he said, “Hi. I’m Dr. Cameron.” He looked at me, then narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”
I’m sure my heart rate was elevated. I thought, Shit, he’s going to recognize me. But all I said was, “You look familiar to me,” which was the truth, after all.
He shook his head. “Where was it?” He looked at my Patient Information sheet. “You’re a CRNA. Did we meet at a conference or seminar sometime?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t think so.”
He shook his head. “I just can’t remember. Never mind. It’ll come to me.” His voice changed slightly and became more professional. “You have lower back pain?”
This was it, make or break. If David didn’t believe me, what would he do? Call my bluff and send me on my way before I had a chance to ask any questions? Adrian would be so disappointed. I took a deep breath and lied. “Persistent…and painful…lower back pain. The thing is, it’s intermittent. Right now, for instance, it’s not too bad, but last night…I was hurting. You should of seen me then. It’s actually sort of embarrassing being here when I don’t really feel that bad.” I gave what I was sure was a self-conscious laugh. God knows I felt self-conscious. My pain had vanished, after all, gone home to Milwaukee.
Perhaps it was the laugh that triggered his memory. Anyway, I was looking at his face and I could see recognition click into place. “Oh,” he said. “I remember.”
I said, “Yeah, embarrassing, huh? The baths. We met a couple of years ago at the Liberty Baths. Probably the last time I went. I’m in a relationship now.”
“Good for you.” He sounded genuinely pleased.
“How about you?” I asked.
“I’m working on it,” he said. “Go ahead and lie down.”
He began poking around at my back, and said, “I’ve been in one relationship or another most of my adult life, and I kind of miss it. How about you? Was settling down a big adjustment?”
“Not really. Adrian and I have been together for a few years now and I have to admit, boring as it sounds, I love coming home to the same guy every night.”
“That’s what I’m hoping to convince Michael of.”
“Mmm,” I nodded as best I could, “I was lucky. Adrian and I were both at the same point when we met, both ready to settle down. Your Michael…still into the party scene?”
“Not so much. He’s really a great guy. A little younger than I am but he’s never been in a steady relationship before. He’s just a little gun-shy about committing to one.”
“Monogamy can be scary,” I said.
“It doesn’t seem to be that so much. It’s more this adolescent crush he has on a guy who’s never going to get serious with him. This jerk has Michael on a chain, and every time he and I seem to be making progress, Brian reels him back in.”
David was probing my lower back with his fingertips. I winced artistically and said, “Well, that sucks. How old did you say your boyfriend was?”
“Nearly thirty.”
“And how long has this crush been going on?”
“I’m told, since high school.”
“Jesus, that’s an awful long time to be pining away for someone. What’s this Brian guy got going for him?”
“I wish I knew. He’s successful and good looking but that’s where it stops. He’s a whore and he’s been using Michael for years. Right now he’s working over-time to make sure that crush stays fresh and potent.” Jeez, he really doesn’t like Brian, does he?
“I used to know someone just like that,” I said. Hell, I’d come this far. I might as well go for the gold. “This guy refused to grow up…that is, until he was caught playing with underage twinks.”
“Sounds like we could be talking about the same guy.” David chuckled. “Brian is currently seeing a seventeen-year-old. The young man’s father just found out. I guess he threw his son out and kicked the shit out of Brian in the process.” He paused, “I think I’ve found your problem. Go ahead and sit up, and I’ll take your history.”
I sat up, wincing again, and David took my fictional history. I think I managed to be consistent in my lies - I seemed to be convincing David, anyway. Afterward, he manipulated my back in ways that didn’t seem to inflict any damage but which wouldn’t have been nearly as helpful as a shot of steroids or a block if I had been in pain.
When he was finished, and I was once again sitting up, I said, “Well, good luck with…Michael?”
He nodded. “Yes, Michael…Michael Novotny. His mother is definitely on my side, although I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“How could it be a bad thing?”
“She’s a little on the pushy side.”
“How about your family?”
“My mother hasn’t met him. She’s in Ft. Lauderdale.”
“Well, then, how about his friends? I assume he has friends other than Brian?”
He smiled. “Definitely. At worst they’re neutral…they expect Brian to run me off…and at best…Melanie is backing me up every inch of the way.”
“Melanie?”
“Sorry. It’s a long story, but the short story is that she’s a lesbian, living with the female counterpart to Michael. Melanie says Brian will never fuck Michael.” He almost seemed to be talking to himself. “If Melanie can do it...if she can handle the Brian factor...so can I.” His tone turned professional again. “See Mitzi on your way out and make an appointment for next week.”
Michael Novotny, huh? And 'Brian will never fuck Michael.' Which implies he never has…which in turn makes Michael unique, according Adrian Lantz, Boy Voyeur. My God, I’m going to have a wealth of information for him. Justin’s dad is gunning for Brian. I wonder how he found out? Poor kid. It certainly gives credence to the scene Adrian saw the other night. I’m guessing that the tough little brunette is Melanie, and the blonde was 'the female counterpart of Michael.' That went a long way to explain her reactions to Brian. Still no clue as to who the other two guys were, but…a lot of questions answered.
Adrian will be so pleased, and I have some excellent ideas for how he can show his appreciation. No need to tell him I actually found this experience somewhat…um…interesting. Sort of a return to the type of adolescence I never had.
I made an appointment with Mitzi as I left, but I’m afraid that Marc Spencer, CRNA, is going to be breaking it. I’ve pumped Dr. David Cameron for all the information I’m going to get and pushed my ability to lie to new limits.
Oh, yes…another thing…I didn’t need the business cards.
Go to Chapter 9
David Cameron’s nurse-receptionist showed me into his treatment room and told me to strip to my skivvies. I did, and then I sat on the end of his examining table and waited for him to come in. What the fuck am I doing here? I wondered. Sneaking around so that I can find out about a guy? This is so high school.
Trying to interrogate David was Adrian’s idea, of course. He’s the one who thinks outside the box; I’m the guy who colors inside the lines. You ask a designer to do some work for you, you expect creativity. You ask an anesthesiologist to put you to sleep, you damn well want him to calculate your dosages exactly. I was definitely outside my comfort zone.
It had taken a bit of planning to get me ready to see David. First of all, who was I? I didn’t think presenting myself as an anesthesiologist and an Assistant Professor at Carnegie-Mellon Medical Center would be very believable. Why wouldn’t I go to the department’s Pain Clinic? I would, of course. So I demoted myself to Nurse-Anesthetist. At least I could talk intelligently about my work if the subject came up.
Next question: where do I live? Not right across the alley from Brian Kinney, that’s for sure. First I thought I’d just use my old address, but then I thought that if David sent me any mail there, it would bounce and perhaps arouse suspicions unnecessarily. Instead I used my parents’ address. My Dad is Marc A. Spencer; I’m Marc P. Spencer; he might not even notice he’d gotten my mail if David sent him some advertising. Heaven knows we’ve gotten each other’s mail often enough in the past.
Adrian prints out his own business cards, complete with his logo in two colors. A logo in two colors was beyond me, but I figured I could do a plain business card, so I liberated a sheet of his expensive card stock. Lining up and centering the text turned out to be a bit more challenging than I expected, so I had to liberate a second and third sheet (Sorry, Adrian. This was your idea.) before I achieved this:
Marc Spencer, C.R.N.A.
2224 Rustic Lane
Mt. Olive, PA 15325
(724)-627-5252
I apologized mentally to my father for any mysterious mailings or phone calls he might get in the future, stuck a couple of cards in my wallet, and went to keep my appointment with David.
When he finally came into the examining room, he said, “Hi. I’m Dr. Cameron.” He looked at me, then narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”
I’m sure my heart rate was elevated. I thought, Shit, he’s going to recognize me. But all I said was, “You look familiar to me,” which was the truth, after all.
He shook his head. “Where was it?” He looked at my Patient Information sheet. “You’re a CRNA. Did we meet at a conference or seminar sometime?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t think so.”
He shook his head. “I just can’t remember. Never mind. It’ll come to me.” His voice changed slightly and became more professional. “You have lower back pain?”
This was it, make or break. If David didn’t believe me, what would he do? Call my bluff and send me on my way before I had a chance to ask any questions? Adrian would be so disappointed. I took a deep breath and lied. “Persistent…and painful…lower back pain. The thing is, it’s intermittent. Right now, for instance, it’s not too bad, but last night…I was hurting. You should of seen me then. It’s actually sort of embarrassing being here when I don’t really feel that bad.” I gave what I was sure was a self-conscious laugh. God knows I felt self-conscious. My pain had vanished, after all, gone home to Milwaukee.
Perhaps it was the laugh that triggered his memory. Anyway, I was looking at his face and I could see recognition click into place. “Oh,” he said. “I remember.”
I said, “Yeah, embarrassing, huh? The baths. We met a couple of years ago at the Liberty Baths. Probably the last time I went. I’m in a relationship now.”
“Good for you.” He sounded genuinely pleased.
“How about you?” I asked.
“I’m working on it,” he said. “Go ahead and lie down.”
He began poking around at my back, and said, “I’ve been in one relationship or another most of my adult life, and I kind of miss it. How about you? Was settling down a big adjustment?”
“Not really. Adrian and I have been together for a few years now and I have to admit, boring as it sounds, I love coming home to the same guy every night.”
“That’s what I’m hoping to convince Michael of.”
“Mmm,” I nodded as best I could, “I was lucky. Adrian and I were both at the same point when we met, both ready to settle down. Your Michael…still into the party scene?”
“Not so much. He’s really a great guy. A little younger than I am but he’s never been in a steady relationship before. He’s just a little gun-shy about committing to one.”
“Monogamy can be scary,” I said.
“It doesn’t seem to be that so much. It’s more this adolescent crush he has on a guy who’s never going to get serious with him. This jerk has Michael on a chain, and every time he and I seem to be making progress, Brian reels him back in.”
David was probing my lower back with his fingertips. I winced artistically and said, “Well, that sucks. How old did you say your boyfriend was?”
“Nearly thirty.”
“And how long has this crush been going on?”
“I’m told, since high school.”
“Jesus, that’s an awful long time to be pining away for someone. What’s this Brian guy got going for him?”
“I wish I knew. He’s successful and good looking but that’s where it stops. He’s a whore and he’s been using Michael for years. Right now he’s working over-time to make sure that crush stays fresh and potent.” Jeez, he really doesn’t like Brian, does he?
“I used to know someone just like that,” I said. Hell, I’d come this far. I might as well go for the gold. “This guy refused to grow up…that is, until he was caught playing with underage twinks.”
“Sounds like we could be talking about the same guy.” David chuckled. “Brian is currently seeing a seventeen-year-old. The young man’s father just found out. I guess he threw his son out and kicked the shit out of Brian in the process.” He paused, “I think I’ve found your problem. Go ahead and sit up, and I’ll take your history.”
I sat up, wincing again, and David took my fictional history. I think I managed to be consistent in my lies - I seemed to be convincing David, anyway. Afterward, he manipulated my back in ways that didn’t seem to inflict any damage but which wouldn’t have been nearly as helpful as a shot of steroids or a block if I had been in pain.
When he was finished, and I was once again sitting up, I said, “Well, good luck with…Michael?”
He nodded. “Yes, Michael…Michael Novotny. His mother is definitely on my side, although I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“How could it be a bad thing?”
“She’s a little on the pushy side.”
“How about your family?”
“My mother hasn’t met him. She’s in Ft. Lauderdale.”
“Well, then, how about his friends? I assume he has friends other than Brian?”
He smiled. “Definitely. At worst they’re neutral…they expect Brian to run me off…and at best…Melanie is backing me up every inch of the way.”
“Melanie?”
“Sorry. It’s a long story, but the short story is that she’s a lesbian, living with the female counterpart to Michael. Melanie says Brian will never fuck Michael.” He almost seemed to be talking to himself. “If Melanie can do it...if she can handle the Brian factor...so can I.” His tone turned professional again. “See Mitzi on your way out and make an appointment for next week.”
Michael Novotny, huh? And 'Brian will never fuck Michael.' Which implies he never has…which in turn makes Michael unique, according Adrian Lantz, Boy Voyeur. My God, I’m going to have a wealth of information for him. Justin’s dad is gunning for Brian. I wonder how he found out? Poor kid. It certainly gives credence to the scene Adrian saw the other night. I’m guessing that the tough little brunette is Melanie, and the blonde was 'the female counterpart of Michael.' That went a long way to explain her reactions to Brian. Still no clue as to who the other two guys were, but…a lot of questions answered.
Adrian will be so pleased, and I have some excellent ideas for how he can show his appreciation. No need to tell him I actually found this experience somewhat…um…interesting. Sort of a return to the type of adolescence I never had.
I made an appointment with Mitzi as I left, but I’m afraid that Marc Spencer, CRNA, is going to be breaking it. I’ve pumped Dr. David Cameron for all the information I’m going to get and pushed my ability to lie to new limits.
Oh, yes…another thing…I didn’t need the business cards.
Go to Chapter 9