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thehefnerIt's been a long time since I posted one of these, but I've decided it's high time to get back to work on the ol' monologues for a bit inbetween comic drawing and play script writing.
This will be the very first story in the Hefner Monologues performance/book, the story of how it all got started. For those in the know, this is the story of me and Tammy at Alan and Rachel's wedding (if you know what I'm talking about without having read the story, I imagine you're already smiling). The story is here presented, a fresh first draft submitted for your approval. Hope you enjoy.
(oh, and if I'm mixed up on any of the facts, by all means please correct me. It has been a couple of years, after all.)
The whole thing started around Christmas 2003, at a party where all my friends were watching wedding videos and my heart was being broken for the first time.
The wedding in question was of Alan Duda and Rachel Zirkin, two of my best friends and members of a community theatre troupe who called themselves the Rude Mechanicals. So was everyone else in their living room that evening, for that matter. Jaki, Josh, Jeff, Calvin, Melissa, Yancy, Lissa, Jay, Elise, and me. Amateurs, theater geeks, malcontents, discontents, attention whores, losers, lovers, dorks. My people. Rude Mechanicals. Pretty much every member of the core Rudes was there that evening. Everyone except a young woman of nineteen named Tammy Raistrick.
Sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, Josh would host a big meal get-together for the Rudes, which he dubbed "Turkeymas." Turkeymas generally consisted of a big meal followed by the Rudes’ festive holiday tradition, "Fun with a Deep Fryer." You do not know Twinkies, you do not know Oreos, you do not know PB&J until you have them covered with crispy golden fat, let me tell you right now. This year’s Turkeymas was being held at Alan and Rachel’s new house little over two months since the wedding.
Alan and Rachel had met in the troupe. The Rudes as a troupe took pride in this, as if the union and the whole wedding itself was just another production, wedged in between As You Like It and Richard III. We embraced the whole event almost as if it were a celebration for us all, not just for the loving couple, and the end result proved to be the greatest party most of us had ever and would ever see.
So watching the wedding video was less of a party being subjected to home movies and more a core group of friends trying in whatever ways to relive that night, if only with the luxury of sober eyes. I was no exception, only what I was drunk on that night wasn’t booze.
What was going through my head that night was something I had never felt before, but I’ve seen enough movies to hazard a pretty decent guess. The closest misery I had felt was when my grandfather passed away two years earlier, at that point the only person close to me I had ever lost. But of course, this was different. This was a situation where doom could be the only outcome, and yet there would not be closure for a long time to come. Because Tammy was still alive, alive and at least physically well, spending the weekend not with us but with her parents up in New York.
Then in the video I could see Tammy. Her head was buried in my shoulder, her arms around me as we slow-danced. Her left hand gripped into my shoulder as if for dear life. In her right she held a single long-stemmed rose.
Most of the Rudes "aww"ed at the sight of two of their youngest members engaged in this sight, except for Josh who put his hand on my shoulder and simply smiled knowingly.
"Hey, uh… could you pause the video?" I asked, to no one in particular. "Guys? Could someone please pause this here?"
Someone did, and Tammy and I were frozen in time, wrapped in each other’s arms. I would have enjoyed the moment longer, but all eyes were on me and I had a story to tell.
"Okay," I began, "I, uh... I how many of you know what’s been going on between me and Tammy. Some of you do, some don’t. Right now, I don’t really feel like keeping this quiet anymore. There’s something going on in that video right there that you guys aren’t seeing. Something I want to tell you about now.
“As you know, Tammy is engaged to her boyfriend Bryan. Well, engaged to be engaged, anyway. Whatever. Anyway, most of you probably know the story but just in case you don’t, let me give a little background. Since Tammy and I met during As You Like It, we’d become close friends. We’d talk, hang out, go see movies, all that stuff. And you need to understand, I had no intention on anything happening. I mean, hell, I liked her. I mean, of course I did. Pretty much anybody with a penis likes Tammy. Well, except you, of course, Alan.”
This was true, but it still gave Alan a nice moment to smile and say, “I love you, sweetie,” to his wife.
“And also, hey, this is me, right? I’m 20 and I’d only ever kissed before. Every single time I’d flirty with a girl and take them out, it always ended the exact same way. I became the gay friend. Y’know, the close male pal with whom they could share anything. Call it ‘special friendship’, whatever. So between Tammy being completely taken and me being me, I never thought in a million years that anything would happen. I figured it would be safe. I’d hang out with her, have a good time, go home utterly sexually frustrated, and repeat. Seemed like a solid plan to me!
“I mean, I liked her. We all like her. She’s a likable kid. She’s cute and sexy and funny and likes to suck ice cubes to get attention, what’s not the love? And before I knew it, she and I started to get pretty close as friends. She started to really confide in me, which touched me as much as it reaffirmed my ‘special friendship’ status. Congrats, Heffie, your Special Friend membership has been renewed for another year! Keep it up, and we may even consider granting you a lifetime membership!
“Yet here’s the thing. The closer I got to her, the more she shared with me, the more I started to feel really uncomfortable with the idea of her getting married at 21, as she had planned. Look, I come from parents with three divorces on both sides. My mother was married at 20. Rushing into marriage, especially at so young an age, had long been burned into my brain as a huge fucking mistake. I’m all for letting people live their own lives. But more and more, I was getting really antsy about the idea of Tammy doing this to herself.
“But none of that mattered, because hey, she wasn’t my business and besides, I was college-bound. Junior year awaited. I’d be just far enough away that we wouldn’t really see one another at all, except of course for when I’d drive back down for As You Like It performances. Problem solved, right? Well, then came the first weekend we were to have performed, which you’ll all recall was the weekend Hurricane Isabel hit.
“So with the power out virtually everywhere and with the both shows cancelled, I came back down to DC to hang out at back-to-back cast parties, the first being at Tammy and Bryan’s house. Yep. Who knew when you’d walk into the lion’s den there’d be actors and booze?
“I crashed for the night and awoke to a nearly empty house. You all had gone to run your errands before the second party at here, at Alan’s, that night. So it was just me and Tammy all day, hanging out and watching movies. And talking. As the hours wore on, she started to really open up to me, which for this girl is a really big deal. Some really personal matters. With only an hour left to be alone, I decided it was time that I finally addressed my concerns with her. I was certain it would do no good, but I had to try.
“I said, ‘Tammy, you’ve probably sick of hearing this, but I need to say it. I just… in my heart, I just don’t it’s a good idea for you to be getting married this young. Not just yet.’
“She turned away from me, quiet for a moment. Then she looked at me and she said, ‘Well, actually, Heffie… you’re one of the few things that have been making me reconsider that.’”
I paused there, not just to reflect but for the effect.
“You have to understand. Nobody… nobody had ever said anything like that to me before. She told me how she knew I had a crush on her. How it was plainly obvious, sure, everybody knew it. And then she told me about how she felt the same way about me. Now I knew, I knew it couldn’t happen between us. I’m not a schmuck. But I thanked her profusely for telling me, because even though it could never happen, I was overwhelmed to discover that somebody actually could feel this way about it. The concept just never registered before then.
“We talked for a little while more, but neither of us could tell you about what. We held each other, cuddling… and you all know what a cuddler Tammy is… and then for a little while it was just me talking. Rambling on as I do about this that and the other. And then I was hit by a small epiphany. I said, ‘I just realized something, Tammy. I can shut the hell up.’ Smiling, she said, ‘Yes you can.’
“So we held each other in silence, not a word necessary to pass between us. When she looked up at me, I couldn’t not kiss her. It was as inevitable and necessary as breathing. The decision to continue kissing her, to start making out with her, however, was not. No, that one was allllllllll me. She took me further than I’d ever gone that evening, and it was wonderful. A pipe dream given flesh, and really, the doomed aspect of it all only made it better for a pair of hopeless fairytale romantics like us. Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
“She said, ‘I never thought it was possible to be in love with two people at the same time,’ bringing the dreaded ‘L’ word to the foreground. How many times have I heard the word ‘love’ being thrown around by teenage hormone-bags who don’t know shit about shit? I mean, hell, I spent years watching people like that and the only difference between them and me is that I actually know I don’t know anything (thank you Socrates)! I’m not exactly doubting her feelings, but still, for my part I wasn’t ready fling such a heavy label around. Especially not with this.
“Afterwards, she said, ‘I really want to keep doing this. As friends. I’m not going to leave Bryan. I love him and I want to marry him. But I don’t want him to know about this. He won’t understand, and I don’t want to hurt him.’
“I didn’t have to think about my answer. I said, ‘I can’t do that.’ That was an answer she wasn’t prepared for at all. See, this was a girl who was used to being able to read people, to see how they were thinking and feeling and preparing herself for it accordingly. This was a girl who was so used to having men and even some women ready to do anything she asked at the drop of a hat, a girl who knew how to wrap men around her little finger, even without intending to. So you have to understand what that ‘no’ meant to her. No one had said ‘no’ to her for years.”
It should be here noted that a lot more had actually occurred between the two of us over the course of that evening, but I decided to refrain from going into details just there. The time and the place for that story would come in its own time, but not that day. I continued.
“So I went back up to college for the week until I’d come back down to perform As You Like It. When I’d come back, we’d figure the shit out. That week back at college proved to be really weird, because for some bizarre reason, I couldn’t get her out of my head. It was utterly crazy. Like, she was literally in my every other thought. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. ‘Cause I sure as hell didn’t! This was all-new to me!
“Keep it a secret? I wanted to tell everyone! So what if it was doomed? I didn’t even care! That something like this had even happened, that someone could feel this way for me, my God, I wanted to yell it out to the world! And yet I couldn’t even tell you guys, my own best friends. Because this situation couldn’t bring anything but pain. She wanted me to lie for her, but I couldn’t. It’s not in me. So when I told her such after As You Like It, she nodded. She’d been expecting that answer.
“She said, ‘I’m so, so sorry for putting you in this situation.’ Two ‘so’s for extra emphasis. We knew that it was over, it had to be, right there in the Bennigans parking lot. We held each other until Bryan pulled up in his pickup truck to take her home. We couldn’t have even kissed each other goodbye, not with him there. Just as well, I suppose. We said our farewells, have a good week, no hard feelings, see you at the wedding.
“So that was that, right? Back to college for another week before the wedding, time to go back to normal life, right? Yeah. Right. I truly thought calling it off was all it would take, you must understand. I expected it to be sad and a little difficult, but easily survivable. Yet it none of these things. It felt like nothing was different at all. She was in my head just as much, driving my every obsessed though.
“It didn’t matter that this was the first time I’d ever felt such a way, I knew better in my heart and I was feeling it hard. The message I was getting was clear: it wasn’t over yet. Something more had to happen. I decided to talk with her after the reception, and maybe with discourse and reason and work we could figure something out. Because that’s how I am. There’s nothing that can’t be worked out by calm and reasonable discussion and planning. And that was the plan. I just needed to keep my cool.
“So the wedding came. I pulled an old tux out of the closet that I hadn’t worn since my hippie private high school’s “non-prom Prom” two and a half years earlier. I spent the last waiting minutes mentally preparing myself while everyone else grew more and more anxious as the hour approached for Alan and Rachel. Just be cool, Heffie. Just chill, focus on the wedding, and be cool. It was now two minutes before the procession began when the door opened and in she came. Her hair done up impeccably, he lips shimmering with a shade of blue silver that perfectly matched the elegant form-fitting Chinese dress she wore. She was… stunning. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone become anything so beautiful in my life since. She looked at me, smiled, and took my hand as the procession began.
“We walked down the isle, side by side, and sat together, our hands never parting the entire ceremony. When she would get choked up, I could feel the tiniest squeeze in my hand. While the vows were being read, I could see the tears rolling down Tammy’s cheeks. Ever self-conscious, she apologetically whispered, ‘I wish I had a handkerchief.’ I checked my pockets purely out of cue, not expecting to find anything in a coat I hadn’t worn in years, and lo and behold there was one single fresh tissue. Did I have a cold at the prom or something? It would have been just like me if I did. She looked at the tissue with stunned awe, as if something magical had just passed between us. A miracle in a Kleenex. Sure, it was a silly little thing. Most of the truly great moments in romance are the silly little things. With no one was looking at us, it was perfectly fine to turn off all reason and enjoy the moment. When such moments occur, it is best to put cynicism aside for a time to sit back and allow yourself to enjoy it without guilt or guile.
“Alan and Rachel were officially married. Now it was time to party. Yeah, you all remember the reception. It was amazing, right? I went in there, anxious for the first excuse to pull Tammy aside so we could talk, but once the party started we were all too happy to get sucked in. Once 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' hits the dance floor, you know you ain’t goin’ nowhere.
“Never mind that I have all the dancing abilities of a spastic weasel. I may not be good, I thought, but by God I’m going to be entertaining. I went out there and grooved my thang in full white boy mode. And from how she laughed, with that cute squeal and giggle that just made my insides melt, that was just fine by me. I’ve never been the most fit of guys, and after a couple songs I started to develop a healthy family of cramps throughout my body. By that point I would have called it quits and found the nearest dark corner to huddle in pain, but Tammy wasn’t going anyway. As long as she was gonna dance, I said ‘fuck it’ to the pain and I pressed forward. When you gotta dance, you gotta motherfucking dance. Because you can’t stop the rhythm, baby. Can’t stop the rhythm.
“In between labored wheezes, I looked around at the other people dancing and at the spectators looming over us from their tables. A visual of Romans ringside at a coliseum flashed in my head, following my a sea of down turned thumbs directed toward me. But I wasn’t being met by disapproval, I discovered.
“Little by little, I started to realize that most everyone’s eyes were on us. Some were Rudes. Many were not. Strangers, even. It wasn’t just my ridiculous excuse for dancing either, nor was it the general shininess of what she was wearing or the shapely little body it contained. If you ask me, I think it was because these people could tell that something was happening. Something they couldn’t quite put their finger to or understand, but something they could see, feel on some basic level. That’s what I like to think anyway.
“My mother certainly saw it. She told me that Josh came up to her and they watched us together from afar. She told me he said, ‘Yeah, we all know she’s poison. But we still so want them to get together.’ Even now, I’m still not sure what to make of that.
“Then came the point in any dance where, even though the music is still playing, everyone’s decided to take a little break to stand around and chat. Tammy was talking with Josh over at one corner while I was leaned up against the bars like a prize-fighter after the fifteenth round, boldly cramped where I’ve never cramped before, soaked with sweat and sucking back a pitcher of ice water.
“Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the Rude Mechanical Yancy, holding a red rose. Apparently some woman had been selling roses at the restaurant, trying to capitalize on the event, and Yancy bought a couple. One for his girlfriend Lissa, and this one for me.
“He handed it to me and said with a wink, ‘Go on, Heffie. Give it to her.’
“Without a word, I took the rose and began to walk towards Tammy. Her back was to me. She didn’t see, didn’t hear me coming. If she did, she didn’t think anything of it. From behind, I slid the rose into her hand. She turned, looking at it, then at me, then back at it again.
“Once again, this was a girl who prided herself on being able to read people. On being able to tell what someone is thinking and what they will do. She could tell when Bryan was going to do something sweet like buy her flowers way before he ever did anything. That’s how she was, or at least how she thought she was. It was a self-defense mechanism, you see. It was how she protected herself. But this rose… she wasn’t expecting this in the least. This little gesture slid right through every single defense she had into her inmost vulnerability like a white hot knife through butter. And she just had to hold onto me and start dancing just to keep from crying.
“So there we were on the dance floor, somehow making a slow-dance out of Guns n’ Roses’ ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.’ I suppose it worked, it just isn’t the choice that usually comes to mind. Once again, we are together in silence, and it is beautiful. It is truly beautiful. After a long, long moment, I lean forward and I say what I had been fighting back from saying for two weeks.
“I whispered, ‘This is probably the worst thing to say right now… but I do love you.’
“Her hands dug into my back, the rose brushing against my body, and she buried her head in my shoulder. We danced in silence once more, hardly listening to the music at all.
“She whispered in my ear, ‘In this moment… I love you too.’
“And I tell you… it would have been the most beautiful moment of my life, it really would, if I didn’t have the hugest fucking erection. Sticking straight out, Vlad Tepesh style. But y’know I didn’t want to reach down and rearrange myself, because I didn’t want to ruin the moment. And of course she knew, but she didn’t want to say anything, because she didn’t want to ruin the moment either!
“So if you all look at us there on the screen, you can see her there with the rose in her hand, and us dancing, chests together and waists apart. And even still, it was, in all sincerity, the most romantic, passionate part of my life. It really was. Well, that’s love for you, I guess.”
There was a stunned silence for the briefest instant, and more than one mouth hanging open in astonishment. Then it gave way to shocked, uproarious laughter, seizing the group for probably a good twenty seconds. To me, it felt much longer. Because for the first time that day, that month, I was infused with a feeling I hadn’t felt since the last time she told me she loved me. After the party, before she started to grow cold and distant and then, nothing at all.
Josh said, “Seriously, John, if you were to write a whole show of stories like that, we’d produce them.”
I must have misheard him. The idea was utterly unreal. “You… would…?”
They all said yes, excited at the prospect that I might have more such stories to offer, perhaps even grander tales of lost love and high humiliation. The concept thrilled and terrified me: a one-man-show.
“You could do like The Vagina Monologues,” one of them said. I forget who it was that topped it off with the obvious response:
“Exactly! The Hefner Monologues!”
They all laughed at this. Not at the absurdity of the idea, but because it was absolutely perfect. Perfect because that’s exactly what this show would be, if it were to ever happen. Perfect because simply that’s just what they are, all that they are.
Thus the Hefner Monologues were born.
This will be the very first story in the Hefner Monologues performance/book, the story of how it all got started. For those in the know, this is the story of me and Tammy at Alan and Rachel's wedding (if you know what I'm talking about without having read the story, I imagine you're already smiling). The story is here presented, a fresh first draft submitted for your approval. Hope you enjoy.
(oh, and if I'm mixed up on any of the facts, by all means please correct me. It has been a couple of years, after all.)
The whole thing started around Christmas 2003, at a party where all my friends were watching wedding videos and my heart was being broken for the first time.
The wedding in question was of Alan Duda and Rachel Zirkin, two of my best friends and members of a community theatre troupe who called themselves the Rude Mechanicals. So was everyone else in their living room that evening, for that matter. Jaki, Josh, Jeff, Calvin, Melissa, Yancy, Lissa, Jay, Elise, and me. Amateurs, theater geeks, malcontents, discontents, attention whores, losers, lovers, dorks. My people. Rude Mechanicals. Pretty much every member of the core Rudes was there that evening. Everyone except a young woman of nineteen named Tammy Raistrick.
Sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, Josh would host a big meal get-together for the Rudes, which he dubbed "Turkeymas." Turkeymas generally consisted of a big meal followed by the Rudes’ festive holiday tradition, "Fun with a Deep Fryer." You do not know Twinkies, you do not know Oreos, you do not know PB&J until you have them covered with crispy golden fat, let me tell you right now. This year’s Turkeymas was being held at Alan and Rachel’s new house little over two months since the wedding.
Alan and Rachel had met in the troupe. The Rudes as a troupe took pride in this, as if the union and the whole wedding itself was just another production, wedged in between As You Like It and Richard III. We embraced the whole event almost as if it were a celebration for us all, not just for the loving couple, and the end result proved to be the greatest party most of us had ever and would ever see.
So watching the wedding video was less of a party being subjected to home movies and more a core group of friends trying in whatever ways to relive that night, if only with the luxury of sober eyes. I was no exception, only what I was drunk on that night wasn’t booze.
What was going through my head that night was something I had never felt before, but I’ve seen enough movies to hazard a pretty decent guess. The closest misery I had felt was when my grandfather passed away two years earlier, at that point the only person close to me I had ever lost. But of course, this was different. This was a situation where doom could be the only outcome, and yet there would not be closure for a long time to come. Because Tammy was still alive, alive and at least physically well, spending the weekend not with us but with her parents up in New York.
Then in the video I could see Tammy. Her head was buried in my shoulder, her arms around me as we slow-danced. Her left hand gripped into my shoulder as if for dear life. In her right she held a single long-stemmed rose.
Most of the Rudes "aww"ed at the sight of two of their youngest members engaged in this sight, except for Josh who put his hand on my shoulder and simply smiled knowingly.
"Hey, uh… could you pause the video?" I asked, to no one in particular. "Guys? Could someone please pause this here?"
Someone did, and Tammy and I were frozen in time, wrapped in each other’s arms. I would have enjoyed the moment longer, but all eyes were on me and I had a story to tell.
"Okay," I began, "I, uh... I how many of you know what’s been going on between me and Tammy. Some of you do, some don’t. Right now, I don’t really feel like keeping this quiet anymore. There’s something going on in that video right there that you guys aren’t seeing. Something I want to tell you about now.
“As you know, Tammy is engaged to her boyfriend Bryan. Well, engaged to be engaged, anyway. Whatever. Anyway, most of you probably know the story but just in case you don’t, let me give a little background. Since Tammy and I met during As You Like It, we’d become close friends. We’d talk, hang out, go see movies, all that stuff. And you need to understand, I had no intention on anything happening. I mean, hell, I liked her. I mean, of course I did. Pretty much anybody with a penis likes Tammy. Well, except you, of course, Alan.”
This was true, but it still gave Alan a nice moment to smile and say, “I love you, sweetie,” to his wife.
“And also, hey, this is me, right? I’m 20 and I’d only ever kissed before. Every single time I’d flirty with a girl and take them out, it always ended the exact same way. I became the gay friend. Y’know, the close male pal with whom they could share anything. Call it ‘special friendship’, whatever. So between Tammy being completely taken and me being me, I never thought in a million years that anything would happen. I figured it would be safe. I’d hang out with her, have a good time, go home utterly sexually frustrated, and repeat. Seemed like a solid plan to me!
“I mean, I liked her. We all like her. She’s a likable kid. She’s cute and sexy and funny and likes to suck ice cubes to get attention, what’s not the love? And before I knew it, she and I started to get pretty close as friends. She started to really confide in me, which touched me as much as it reaffirmed my ‘special friendship’ status. Congrats, Heffie, your Special Friend membership has been renewed for another year! Keep it up, and we may even consider granting you a lifetime membership!
“Yet here’s the thing. The closer I got to her, the more she shared with me, the more I started to feel really uncomfortable with the idea of her getting married at 21, as she had planned. Look, I come from parents with three divorces on both sides. My mother was married at 20. Rushing into marriage, especially at so young an age, had long been burned into my brain as a huge fucking mistake. I’m all for letting people live their own lives. But more and more, I was getting really antsy about the idea of Tammy doing this to herself.
“But none of that mattered, because hey, she wasn’t my business and besides, I was college-bound. Junior year awaited. I’d be just far enough away that we wouldn’t really see one another at all, except of course for when I’d drive back down for As You Like It performances. Problem solved, right? Well, then came the first weekend we were to have performed, which you’ll all recall was the weekend Hurricane Isabel hit.
“So with the power out virtually everywhere and with the both shows cancelled, I came back down to DC to hang out at back-to-back cast parties, the first being at Tammy and Bryan’s house. Yep. Who knew when you’d walk into the lion’s den there’d be actors and booze?
“I crashed for the night and awoke to a nearly empty house. You all had gone to run your errands before the second party at here, at Alan’s, that night. So it was just me and Tammy all day, hanging out and watching movies. And talking. As the hours wore on, she started to really open up to me, which for this girl is a really big deal. Some really personal matters. With only an hour left to be alone, I decided it was time that I finally addressed my concerns with her. I was certain it would do no good, but I had to try.
“I said, ‘Tammy, you’ve probably sick of hearing this, but I need to say it. I just… in my heart, I just don’t it’s a good idea for you to be getting married this young. Not just yet.’
“She turned away from me, quiet for a moment. Then she looked at me and she said, ‘Well, actually, Heffie… you’re one of the few things that have been making me reconsider that.’”
I paused there, not just to reflect but for the effect.
“You have to understand. Nobody… nobody had ever said anything like that to me before. She told me how she knew I had a crush on her. How it was plainly obvious, sure, everybody knew it. And then she told me about how she felt the same way about me. Now I knew, I knew it couldn’t happen between us. I’m not a schmuck. But I thanked her profusely for telling me, because even though it could never happen, I was overwhelmed to discover that somebody actually could feel this way about it. The concept just never registered before then.
“We talked for a little while more, but neither of us could tell you about what. We held each other, cuddling… and you all know what a cuddler Tammy is… and then for a little while it was just me talking. Rambling on as I do about this that and the other. And then I was hit by a small epiphany. I said, ‘I just realized something, Tammy. I can shut the hell up.’ Smiling, she said, ‘Yes you can.’
“So we held each other in silence, not a word necessary to pass between us. When she looked up at me, I couldn’t not kiss her. It was as inevitable and necessary as breathing. The decision to continue kissing her, to start making out with her, however, was not. No, that one was allllllllll me. She took me further than I’d ever gone that evening, and it was wonderful. A pipe dream given flesh, and really, the doomed aspect of it all only made it better for a pair of hopeless fairytale romantics like us. Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
“She said, ‘I never thought it was possible to be in love with two people at the same time,’ bringing the dreaded ‘L’ word to the foreground. How many times have I heard the word ‘love’ being thrown around by teenage hormone-bags who don’t know shit about shit? I mean, hell, I spent years watching people like that and the only difference between them and me is that I actually know I don’t know anything (thank you Socrates)! I’m not exactly doubting her feelings, but still, for my part I wasn’t ready fling such a heavy label around. Especially not with this.
“Afterwards, she said, ‘I really want to keep doing this. As friends. I’m not going to leave Bryan. I love him and I want to marry him. But I don’t want him to know about this. He won’t understand, and I don’t want to hurt him.’
“I didn’t have to think about my answer. I said, ‘I can’t do that.’ That was an answer she wasn’t prepared for at all. See, this was a girl who was used to being able to read people, to see how they were thinking and feeling and preparing herself for it accordingly. This was a girl who was so used to having men and even some women ready to do anything she asked at the drop of a hat, a girl who knew how to wrap men around her little finger, even without intending to. So you have to understand what that ‘no’ meant to her. No one had said ‘no’ to her for years.”
It should be here noted that a lot more had actually occurred between the two of us over the course of that evening, but I decided to refrain from going into details just there. The time and the place for that story would come in its own time, but not that day. I continued.
“So I went back up to college for the week until I’d come back down to perform As You Like It. When I’d come back, we’d figure the shit out. That week back at college proved to be really weird, because for some bizarre reason, I couldn’t get her out of my head. It was utterly crazy. Like, she was literally in my every other thought. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. ‘Cause I sure as hell didn’t! This was all-new to me!
“Keep it a secret? I wanted to tell everyone! So what if it was doomed? I didn’t even care! That something like this had even happened, that someone could feel this way for me, my God, I wanted to yell it out to the world! And yet I couldn’t even tell you guys, my own best friends. Because this situation couldn’t bring anything but pain. She wanted me to lie for her, but I couldn’t. It’s not in me. So when I told her such after As You Like It, she nodded. She’d been expecting that answer.
“She said, ‘I’m so, so sorry for putting you in this situation.’ Two ‘so’s for extra emphasis. We knew that it was over, it had to be, right there in the Bennigans parking lot. We held each other until Bryan pulled up in his pickup truck to take her home. We couldn’t have even kissed each other goodbye, not with him there. Just as well, I suppose. We said our farewells, have a good week, no hard feelings, see you at the wedding.
“So that was that, right? Back to college for another week before the wedding, time to go back to normal life, right? Yeah. Right. I truly thought calling it off was all it would take, you must understand. I expected it to be sad and a little difficult, but easily survivable. Yet it none of these things. It felt like nothing was different at all. She was in my head just as much, driving my every obsessed though.
“It didn’t matter that this was the first time I’d ever felt such a way, I knew better in my heart and I was feeling it hard. The message I was getting was clear: it wasn’t over yet. Something more had to happen. I decided to talk with her after the reception, and maybe with discourse and reason and work we could figure something out. Because that’s how I am. There’s nothing that can’t be worked out by calm and reasonable discussion and planning. And that was the plan. I just needed to keep my cool.
“So the wedding came. I pulled an old tux out of the closet that I hadn’t worn since my hippie private high school’s “non-prom Prom” two and a half years earlier. I spent the last waiting minutes mentally preparing myself while everyone else grew more and more anxious as the hour approached for Alan and Rachel. Just be cool, Heffie. Just chill, focus on the wedding, and be cool. It was now two minutes before the procession began when the door opened and in she came. Her hair done up impeccably, he lips shimmering with a shade of blue silver that perfectly matched the elegant form-fitting Chinese dress she wore. She was… stunning. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone become anything so beautiful in my life since. She looked at me, smiled, and took my hand as the procession began.
“We walked down the isle, side by side, and sat together, our hands never parting the entire ceremony. When she would get choked up, I could feel the tiniest squeeze in my hand. While the vows were being read, I could see the tears rolling down Tammy’s cheeks. Ever self-conscious, she apologetically whispered, ‘I wish I had a handkerchief.’ I checked my pockets purely out of cue, not expecting to find anything in a coat I hadn’t worn in years, and lo and behold there was one single fresh tissue. Did I have a cold at the prom or something? It would have been just like me if I did. She looked at the tissue with stunned awe, as if something magical had just passed between us. A miracle in a Kleenex. Sure, it was a silly little thing. Most of the truly great moments in romance are the silly little things. With no one was looking at us, it was perfectly fine to turn off all reason and enjoy the moment. When such moments occur, it is best to put cynicism aside for a time to sit back and allow yourself to enjoy it without guilt or guile.
“Alan and Rachel were officially married. Now it was time to party. Yeah, you all remember the reception. It was amazing, right? I went in there, anxious for the first excuse to pull Tammy aside so we could talk, but once the party started we were all too happy to get sucked in. Once 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' hits the dance floor, you know you ain’t goin’ nowhere.
“Never mind that I have all the dancing abilities of a spastic weasel. I may not be good, I thought, but by God I’m going to be entertaining. I went out there and grooved my thang in full white boy mode. And from how she laughed, with that cute squeal and giggle that just made my insides melt, that was just fine by me. I’ve never been the most fit of guys, and after a couple songs I started to develop a healthy family of cramps throughout my body. By that point I would have called it quits and found the nearest dark corner to huddle in pain, but Tammy wasn’t going anyway. As long as she was gonna dance, I said ‘fuck it’ to the pain and I pressed forward. When you gotta dance, you gotta motherfucking dance. Because you can’t stop the rhythm, baby. Can’t stop the rhythm.
“In between labored wheezes, I looked around at the other people dancing and at the spectators looming over us from their tables. A visual of Romans ringside at a coliseum flashed in my head, following my a sea of down turned thumbs directed toward me. But I wasn’t being met by disapproval, I discovered.
“Little by little, I started to realize that most everyone’s eyes were on us. Some were Rudes. Many were not. Strangers, even. It wasn’t just my ridiculous excuse for dancing either, nor was it the general shininess of what she was wearing or the shapely little body it contained. If you ask me, I think it was because these people could tell that something was happening. Something they couldn’t quite put their finger to or understand, but something they could see, feel on some basic level. That’s what I like to think anyway.
“My mother certainly saw it. She told me that Josh came up to her and they watched us together from afar. She told me he said, ‘Yeah, we all know she’s poison. But we still so want them to get together.’ Even now, I’m still not sure what to make of that.
“Then came the point in any dance where, even though the music is still playing, everyone’s decided to take a little break to stand around and chat. Tammy was talking with Josh over at one corner while I was leaned up against the bars like a prize-fighter after the fifteenth round, boldly cramped where I’ve never cramped before, soaked with sweat and sucking back a pitcher of ice water.
“Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the Rude Mechanical Yancy, holding a red rose. Apparently some woman had been selling roses at the restaurant, trying to capitalize on the event, and Yancy bought a couple. One for his girlfriend Lissa, and this one for me.
“He handed it to me and said with a wink, ‘Go on, Heffie. Give it to her.’
“Without a word, I took the rose and began to walk towards Tammy. Her back was to me. She didn’t see, didn’t hear me coming. If she did, she didn’t think anything of it. From behind, I slid the rose into her hand. She turned, looking at it, then at me, then back at it again.
“Once again, this was a girl who prided herself on being able to read people. On being able to tell what someone is thinking and what they will do. She could tell when Bryan was going to do something sweet like buy her flowers way before he ever did anything. That’s how she was, or at least how she thought she was. It was a self-defense mechanism, you see. It was how she protected herself. But this rose… she wasn’t expecting this in the least. This little gesture slid right through every single defense she had into her inmost vulnerability like a white hot knife through butter. And she just had to hold onto me and start dancing just to keep from crying.
“So there we were on the dance floor, somehow making a slow-dance out of Guns n’ Roses’ ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.’ I suppose it worked, it just isn’t the choice that usually comes to mind. Once again, we are together in silence, and it is beautiful. It is truly beautiful. After a long, long moment, I lean forward and I say what I had been fighting back from saying for two weeks.
“I whispered, ‘This is probably the worst thing to say right now… but I do love you.’
“Her hands dug into my back, the rose brushing against my body, and she buried her head in my shoulder. We danced in silence once more, hardly listening to the music at all.
“She whispered in my ear, ‘In this moment… I love you too.’
“And I tell you… it would have been the most beautiful moment of my life, it really would, if I didn’t have the hugest fucking erection. Sticking straight out, Vlad Tepesh style. But y’know I didn’t want to reach down and rearrange myself, because I didn’t want to ruin the moment. And of course she knew, but she didn’t want to say anything, because she didn’t want to ruin the moment either!
“So if you all look at us there on the screen, you can see her there with the rose in her hand, and us dancing, chests together and waists apart. And even still, it was, in all sincerity, the most romantic, passionate part of my life. It really was. Well, that’s love for you, I guess.”
There was a stunned silence for the briefest instant, and more than one mouth hanging open in astonishment. Then it gave way to shocked, uproarious laughter, seizing the group for probably a good twenty seconds. To me, it felt much longer. Because for the first time that day, that month, I was infused with a feeling I hadn’t felt since the last time she told me she loved me. After the party, before she started to grow cold and distant and then, nothing at all.
Josh said, “Seriously, John, if you were to write a whole show of stories like that, we’d produce them.”
I must have misheard him. The idea was utterly unreal. “You… would…?”
They all said yes, excited at the prospect that I might have more such stories to offer, perhaps even grander tales of lost love and high humiliation. The concept thrilled and terrified me: a one-man-show.
“You could do like The Vagina Monologues,” one of them said. I forget who it was that topped it off with the obvious response:
“Exactly! The Hefner Monologues!”
They all laughed at this. Not at the absurdity of the idea, but because it was absolutely perfect. Perfect because that’s exactly what this show would be, if it were to ever happen. Perfect because simply that’s just what they are, all that they are.
Thus the Hefner Monologues were born.
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Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
Date: 2006-01-16 05:55 pm (UTC)i've heard the story.. but it was the abridged version.
wow.
Re: Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
Date: 2006-01-16 07:24 pm (UTC)And also, yeah, come to the party, glad to have you there.
Re: Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
Date: 2006-01-16 07:37 pm (UTC)where is the party? whose house, what night, ets?
plus you and i should hang out soon. i'd ask you to hang tonight, but you've got rehearsals.
i kinda wish i could metro out to Greenbelt and join you guys tonight, but i'd have no way to get to the school from the metro. unless my coworker drove me..but then after bennigans i'd still need a way home.
anyway..
Re: Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
Date: 2006-01-16 08:27 pm (UTC)I actually don't have reharsal tonight. Mom and I are going to see THE FLY at AFI at 6:40. Come along! It'll be swell.
I believe the party's at Alan and Rachel's on Saturday. I think. I'll let you know if it's otherwise.
Re: Nothing is so fueling to romantics than tragedy.
Date: 2006-01-16 08:36 pm (UTC)double check on the time and location for the party for me?