So wha ha happen was...
There's some bar our friends Nickee and Paula went to in Harlem where all of their drinks have ghetto names, like "Baby Mama Drama" and "Move out the Way". Our favorite name was the "Wha' had happen was...".
"Wha' had happen was..."-- what does it mean, exactly? we all had different theories, but loved it-- wha had happen was...
I think every one of Shakespeare's tragedies would have eventually become a comedy, or at least just a pathetic farce if it was allowed to continue, and the characters didn't die. Just like life. Take my boyfriend, Cameron, and his ex, Justin, for whom he left me last year in what at the time seemed like such a powerful force of tragedy.
Fast forward to present. We go to the Cock for the Monday night party with a few friends immediately after the fireworks on the fourth of July. I'm not really drinking, but I am very stoned.
We move into the bar a little bit, and I see Cameron point something out to his friend Ivan.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I think that guy might be Justin", says Cameron.
"Holy shit!" I say, "which one?"
"That guy. The shirtless one wearing the tie."
"Holy shit!"
This isn't going anywhere good.
A second later, Cameron decides it isn't Justin after all, but just someone who looked like him. Then the shirtless tie guy comes up and says "Hey, you" to Cameron, thus making it clear. My first impression? Shirtless, tie. Very, very drunk and sweaty. Facial hair that has gone one day past being technically 'stubble', and yet not quite at 'beard' length yet. Very tanned. Maybe sort of cute? Not my type. Drunk.
Maybe cuter than I'm giving him credit for. For some reason, I can't see straight. My vision is vibrating.
I start shaking, and take a swig off my flask.
Cameron says something inaudible and shirtless tie guy says something inaudible. Or I just don't absorb what they said; the kid turns his eyes on me.
"Uh, Justin, this is, uh, [Totalvirility]," says Cameron, completely inadequately.
Trying to turn on some semblance of laid-back "oh, isn't this a hoot?" whatever-ness, I sort of smile and say, "Oh, I think we talked on the phone, once," refering to the time after I first found out about it, went through Cameron's phone records, and psychotically called him, a little Glenn Close moment which I'm allowing myself credit for, due to circumstances and whatnot.
Justin giggles, "That's right, you called me a nigger."
Um. What?
"Ha ha, um. OK," I say, because I really don't know what to do with this. Justin, by the way, is white.
Justin is also now about three inches from me, holding onto my shoulder and swaying, staring at me so intensely I can't believe he's not actually burning a hole in my head. He is obviously wavering in the balance between whether he wants to try to act cool with everything or be a needling bitch; I had been in a somewhat commensurate balance earlier, but having already decided to play it cool, I have a hard time wavering.
"So," I say, again trying for some lighthearted, 'can you believe it?' sense of hatchet burying, even after it failed so utterly the last time, "I certainly have heard a lot about you. Uh, good to finally meet you!"
"Oh my God, his voice!" shrieks Justin. To me, he says, "Honey, you have a very pretty face, but your voice is making me nervous."
Okay. "Okay," I say, again at a loss. "Am I threatening to you?"
"Oh my God," he peels to Cameron, "why didn't you tell me he sounded so GAY? Honey," to me, pulling a big fake grimace, "I think it works better if you just shut up and look pretty, it suits you well."
I take another swig off my flask.
And decide that I am absolutely okay with what he's just said. Cameron looks like he's about to shit his deisgner boxer briefs- and is obviously not sure that I won't be trying to hit Justin over the head with my flask and then plunge the jagged glass into his face, something I'd threatened to do (with true intent) if Justin ever met me and tried to fuck with me. But right now it's clear what is happening, if anything from his nervous stare more than anything: he is in attack mode, and hasn't been able to find anything, and has gone after my voice.
I've never been self conscious about my voice. I'm cool with my voice. I have a million other insecurities that have nothing to do with my voice. Honestly, I'm kind of cocky about my voice. I like my voice. So I assume if he's going for the voice he's missed all of my actual weaknesses and just gone with whatever came up first in his head. Advantage: Totalvirility.
I put my arm back around him and heartily say "Well, New Friend Justin, you'll find it's hard to shut my mouth," and he uncomfortably tries to look smug, and then he changes, like he's decided the attack won't work.
"Oh my God," he says, now putting his hand on my stomach, under my shirt, "we should make out. Come on, wouldn't that be funny? You know, just don't talk", and puts his face dangerously close to mine. Cameron, mortified, intervenes, saying "SO! JUSTIN! How are you doing?"
Justin drunkenly lolls his head towards Cameron and says "Cameron... Cammmmerrroonnnnn....I can't belieeeeeve it... You turned 25... You're olllllld. Give me a kiss," and Cameron looks at me, and I nod OK, because what the hell else am I going to do? Cameron gives him a quick, severely awkward peck, and Justin looks at me and says "You too, give me a kiss" and I sort of half-heartedly do it, totally at a loss for what else to do, and he says "no, no, on the lips", so I touch my lips to his for approximately a nanosecond, which seems to be enough to make Cameron apoplectic, though still silent.
"Wait," Justin says, "can we have a private conference? Here," he says, and pulls us a little distance from our previous cluster.
He then proceeds to tell me, for ten minutes, how much I have to promise never to break Cameron's heart, because he loves Cameron, and he always loved Cameron, and he's totally over him now, of course, he's not going to try anything, you know, because he really loves Cameron and the thing is? Cameron needs me. He tried to get Cameron away, he should know, but Cameron? really, really needs me. Like really needs me, and really loves me, and I have to promise not to break up with him ever because he really needs me and I better not ever attempt to break his heart ever or Justin will come find me and hurt me because he really loves Cameron, but you know, not in that way, and oh, he hears we're moving in together, and that's just great, because cameron really needs me, and he saw on Friendster I put a picture up of Cameron and I and that made him really happy, no really, no really it did, it really did, he liked the picture because he finally saw that we were good together and he really is happy and on and on and on and on.
I manage to maybe say "uh," or "no" or "huh" a few times during this 10 minute long thing. I glance over at Cameron, who can't hear what Justin's saying and looks like his head is going to explode in rage. At some point, I feel my phone vibrat, and while Justin is distracted, saying "I mean, I really do think I loved Cameron more than I ever loved anybody else and I have had so many boys, I'm such a slut, I've had SO many boys and they all fall in love with me except Cameron never did because he loved you so you can't hurt him because I love him even if he never loved me", I try to go unnoticed as I check my text message, which is from Cameron- still only 5 feet away- and reads (exact quote) "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! GET AWAY FROM HIM!!", and I give Cameron a half-hearted little grin (to which he responds with the finger) as I try to pull Justin- who is now wholly draped over me, and nearly has his hand down my ass- just a little bit further from me.
Finally, Justin unpeals himself from me, leaving a layer of some amount of sweat, asking if it's OK with me if he just goes and says goodbye to Cameron? "I don't want to do anything, I just want to say goodbye, is that okay?" he asks. I concede; he goes and does that, as Basil approaches and asks "uh, what was up with that?"
I'm still shaking, and can't quite respond.
As soon as Justin moves away from Cameron, I go up and say "We're leaving. Right now."
Cameron objects, saying "I don't want him to think he chased us off."
"He won't. He didn't. But we have to go. Right now. Trust me."
So we did. We got in a big fight outside, because Cameron didn't understand what was being said during the conference, all he saw was Justin leaning on me and putting his hand down my ass and looking crazy; I tried to argue that I think the hand down the ass? Is just sort of a rote, unconscious physical action for someone like Justin. I doubt he even realized it was there. I'm totally serious.
And now, I feel weirdly better about the whole thing. Except one thing: I still could not tell you what he looks like. I was staring directly into his face for 20 minutes, and I don't have a clue.
Coda: We are now Friendsters, and I have left testimonials.
Crazy.
"Wha' had happen was..."-- what does it mean, exactly? we all had different theories, but loved it-- wha had happen was...
I think every one of Shakespeare's tragedies would have eventually become a comedy, or at least just a pathetic farce if it was allowed to continue, and the characters didn't die. Just like life. Take my boyfriend, Cameron, and his ex, Justin, for whom he left me last year in what at the time seemed like such a powerful force of tragedy.
Fast forward to present. We go to the Cock for the Monday night party with a few friends immediately after the fireworks on the fourth of July. I'm not really drinking, but I am very stoned.
We move into the bar a little bit, and I see Cameron point something out to his friend Ivan.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I think that guy might be Justin", says Cameron.
"Holy shit!" I say, "which one?"
"That guy. The shirtless one wearing the tie."
"Holy shit!"
This isn't going anywhere good.
A second later, Cameron decides it isn't Justin after all, but just someone who looked like him. Then the shirtless tie guy comes up and says "Hey, you" to Cameron, thus making it clear. My first impression? Shirtless, tie. Very, very drunk and sweaty. Facial hair that has gone one day past being technically 'stubble', and yet not quite at 'beard' length yet. Very tanned. Maybe sort of cute? Not my type. Drunk.
Maybe cuter than I'm giving him credit for. For some reason, I can't see straight. My vision is vibrating.
I start shaking, and take a swig off my flask.
Cameron says something inaudible and shirtless tie guy says something inaudible. Or I just don't absorb what they said; the kid turns his eyes on me.
"Uh, Justin, this is, uh, [Totalvirility]," says Cameron, completely inadequately.
Trying to turn on some semblance of laid-back "oh, isn't this a hoot?" whatever-ness, I sort of smile and say, "Oh, I think we talked on the phone, once," refering to the time after I first found out about it, went through Cameron's phone records, and psychotically called him, a little Glenn Close moment which I'm allowing myself credit for, due to circumstances and whatnot.
Justin giggles, "That's right, you called me a nigger."
Um. What?
"Ha ha, um. OK," I say, because I really don't know what to do with this. Justin, by the way, is white.
Justin is also now about three inches from me, holding onto my shoulder and swaying, staring at me so intensely I can't believe he's not actually burning a hole in my head. He is obviously wavering in the balance between whether he wants to try to act cool with everything or be a needling bitch; I had been in a somewhat commensurate balance earlier, but having already decided to play it cool, I have a hard time wavering.
"So," I say, again trying for some lighthearted, 'can you believe it?' sense of hatchet burying, even after it failed so utterly the last time, "I certainly have heard a lot about you. Uh, good to finally meet you!"
"Oh my God, his voice!" shrieks Justin. To me, he says, "Honey, you have a very pretty face, but your voice is making me nervous."
Okay. "Okay," I say, again at a loss. "Am I threatening to you?"
"Oh my God," he peels to Cameron, "why didn't you tell me he sounded so GAY? Honey," to me, pulling a big fake grimace, "I think it works better if you just shut up and look pretty, it suits you well."
I take another swig off my flask.
And decide that I am absolutely okay with what he's just said. Cameron looks like he's about to shit his deisgner boxer briefs- and is obviously not sure that I won't be trying to hit Justin over the head with my flask and then plunge the jagged glass into his face, something I'd threatened to do (with true intent) if Justin ever met me and tried to fuck with me. But right now it's clear what is happening, if anything from his nervous stare more than anything: he is in attack mode, and hasn't been able to find anything, and has gone after my voice.
I've never been self conscious about my voice. I'm cool with my voice. I have a million other insecurities that have nothing to do with my voice. Honestly, I'm kind of cocky about my voice. I like my voice. So I assume if he's going for the voice he's missed all of my actual weaknesses and just gone with whatever came up first in his head. Advantage: Totalvirility.
I put my arm back around him and heartily say "Well, New Friend Justin, you'll find it's hard to shut my mouth," and he uncomfortably tries to look smug, and then he changes, like he's decided the attack won't work.
"Oh my God," he says, now putting his hand on my stomach, under my shirt, "we should make out. Come on, wouldn't that be funny? You know, just don't talk", and puts his face dangerously close to mine. Cameron, mortified, intervenes, saying "SO! JUSTIN! How are you doing?"
Justin drunkenly lolls his head towards Cameron and says "Cameron... Cammmmerrroonnnnn....I can't belieeeeeve it... You turned 25... You're olllllld. Give me a kiss," and Cameron looks at me, and I nod OK, because what the hell else am I going to do? Cameron gives him a quick, severely awkward peck, and Justin looks at me and says "You too, give me a kiss" and I sort of half-heartedly do it, totally at a loss for what else to do, and he says "no, no, on the lips", so I touch my lips to his for approximately a nanosecond, which seems to be enough to make Cameron apoplectic, though still silent.
"Wait," Justin says, "can we have a private conference? Here," he says, and pulls us a little distance from our previous cluster.
He then proceeds to tell me, for ten minutes, how much I have to promise never to break Cameron's heart, because he loves Cameron, and he always loved Cameron, and he's totally over him now, of course, he's not going to try anything, you know, because he really loves Cameron and the thing is? Cameron needs me. He tried to get Cameron away, he should know, but Cameron? really, really needs me. Like really needs me, and really loves me, and I have to promise not to break up with him ever because he really needs me and I better not ever attempt to break his heart ever or Justin will come find me and hurt me because he really loves Cameron, but you know, not in that way, and oh, he hears we're moving in together, and that's just great, because cameron really needs me, and he saw on Friendster I put a picture up of Cameron and I and that made him really happy, no really, no really it did, it really did, he liked the picture because he finally saw that we were good together and he really is happy and on and on and on and on.
I manage to maybe say "uh," or "no" or "huh" a few times during this 10 minute long thing. I glance over at Cameron, who can't hear what Justin's saying and looks like his head is going to explode in rage. At some point, I feel my phone vibrat, and while Justin is distracted, saying "I mean, I really do think I loved Cameron more than I ever loved anybody else and I have had so many boys, I'm such a slut, I've had SO many boys and they all fall in love with me except Cameron never did because he loved you so you can't hurt him because I love him even if he never loved me", I try to go unnoticed as I check my text message, which is from Cameron- still only 5 feet away- and reads (exact quote) "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! GET AWAY FROM HIM!!", and I give Cameron a half-hearted little grin (to which he responds with the finger) as I try to pull Justin- who is now wholly draped over me, and nearly has his hand down my ass- just a little bit further from me.
Finally, Justin unpeals himself from me, leaving a layer of some amount of sweat, asking if it's OK with me if he just goes and says goodbye to Cameron? "I don't want to do anything, I just want to say goodbye, is that okay?" he asks. I concede; he goes and does that, as Basil approaches and asks "uh, what was up with that?"
I'm still shaking, and can't quite respond.
As soon as Justin moves away from Cameron, I go up and say "We're leaving. Right now."
Cameron objects, saying "I don't want him to think he chased us off."
"He won't. He didn't. But we have to go. Right now. Trust me."
So we did. We got in a big fight outside, because Cameron didn't understand what was being said during the conference, all he saw was Justin leaning on me and putting his hand down my ass and looking crazy; I tried to argue that I think the hand down the ass? Is just sort of a rote, unconscious physical action for someone like Justin. I doubt he even realized it was there. I'm totally serious.
And now, I feel weirdly better about the whole thing. Except one thing: I still could not tell you what he looks like. I was staring directly into his face for 20 minutes, and I don't have a clue.
Coda: We are now Friendsters, and I have left testimonials.
Crazy.