That Crazy Reality Show

by Natasha Kent

  “Funny, I’d have figured you for a bottom” he said needling me. Well, truth be known…. He was holding up his electric razor.

  “Shut. Up.” I said to him. He just smiled. Perfect teeth. Fucker! Then he turned his razor on. God Damn it was loud!

  “What are you doing!” I asked him.

  “Shaving.”

  “With what, a friggin’ lawn mower?”

  He laughed and said “Hey man, try and round me up some orange juice, would ya?”

  I gave him one of my death glares. Shit, I hate mornings. “Never mind” he said, changing his mind quickly.

  I headed out of the bathroom, stopped and turned back around.

  “Hey, why are you getting me up at 6:30?”

  “You said you wanted to go running, remember.” Oh crap. I did say that didn’t I. Fuck. Me!

  “Actually, I don’t, but ok.” Normally I liked to run at night but I seemed to recall, from some drunken memory of the night before, that we decided it might be safer to run in the morning than at night. Seemed like a good idea since we were in downtown Atlanta. I love the city but come on, gotta use your brains, boys and girls.

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel like running this morning” I said to Matt. His shoulders dropped a little, like a shrug. “If you don’t mind I’d rather maybe take a walk, or a fast walk, over to and around the park.”

  “That’s cool. Would you mind? I like ice in my o.j.”

  “Yeah – I’m still on ‘no’ to playing Hazel.” Come on guys, you remember that show don’t you?

  “Ok, then how about Alice?” he grinned at me. I really was digging his smile, even if it was 6:37 in the morning.

  “Dude, I’m more like Maude, or Florence from the Jeffersons. If you’re thirsty, get yourself a drank!” I said sarcastically.

  He laughed and went back to shaving. As I turned to leave I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was watching me. I turned back and looked at him in the mirror with my hands up by my sides as if to say “what?” He just winked.

  “Stoooooop.” I said as he smirked. (That’s saying “stop” dragged out, not “stoop.)

  Eight more weeks. Didn’t know if I could take it. But at that point I really didn’t care. I got changed and went into the kitchen, where nobody was in sight. Funny how most normal people sleep in the mornings. What a mess, I thought. Well, I helped make it, so someone else could help clean it up. There’s morning logic for you. I went to the fridge and grabbed the o.j., got two clean glasses from the cabinets and poured us both some wake up juice. I turned around and – bam! – walked right into Matt.

  “Jesus! How is it that this keeps happening? You a friggin’ cat or something?” Ugg. I grabbed my juice and took a sip.

  “No, I’m not a pussy man.” This time, I spewed my drink out. At least I hit the sink.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I like dogs,” he said.

  “Oh. Do you have any?” I was finally starting to wake up.

  “No, not yet. I’d like to get one after this show’s over, though.”

  “Any particular one in mind?”

  “Well, I like big dogs.” (I like big butts and I cannot lie….)

  “Yeah, those shit-ass little yap-yap dogs get on my nerves.”

  He chuckled at that. “Do you have any pets?”

  “No. I’ve always thought about it, though. I think I’d like something like Scooby Doo.”

  “Ruh-roh,” he said smiling.

  I grinned back. “Or a St. Bernard. Something cool like that.”

  He finished his orange juice and put his glass in the sink.

  “So where do you want to run?” he asked.

  “Walk” I corrected.

  “Walk. Where do you want to walk?”

  “Well, how about we head over to Piedmont and then up to Piedmont Park?”

  He looked sort of uncomfortable at this. I asked him if this was ok or was it the juice making him sick.

  He smiled and said “No. No that sounds fine. It’s just that, well, aren’t there some freaky people there?”

  “Baby, you’re in Atlanta. They’s freaky people everywhere” I said in my goofball voice. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “But a lot of guys cruise out there.”

  This kind of took me by surprise. Not because it was true, but because he knew about it and it seemed to concern him. I walked over to him, put my hand on his shoulder and in a mock-serious tone said “Don’t worry Mr. Wellington, I’ll take care of you.”

  He smiled and said “I’ll bet you will.”

  “Will you stop that.” I said, rolling my eyes. Why do some straight guys like to flirt back. He must be really easy going. Gaydar! Gaydar!

  We left the apartment and immediately there was a cameraman there with his camera on us.

  Matt stopped and turned to me with an evil grin. “I have an idea,” he said, and he grabbed me, pulled me to him and wrapped one of his arms around my head. He turned my head to face his and placed his fingers over my mouth; then he brought our heads together and acted as though we were kissing. If it weren’t for his fingers we would have been. Good morning! I’m awake now!

  He pulled away and began laughing hysterically. I, on the other hand was standing there, dumbfounded and wide-eyed, wondering what train had just hit me.

  “What in the hell was that?!” I stated, more than asked.

  He kept laughing. Finally he said, “Just thought I’d shake things up a bit for the camera.”

  “Gee, thanks! I’ll bet you were great fun at fraternity parties. Freak.” I wasn’t mad, just shocked. He just kept laughing. “Keep that up and you’ll really be involved with that sink,” I said.

  Wiping the tears from his eyes and still laughing he said, “And your fury.”

  Ok, so now I had to laugh. “You are crazier than a god damned billy goat. Move it.” I pushed him ahead of me. “And pipe down, sane people are still asleep. It’s Saturday, doh-doh.”

  We got in the elevator and headed down to the lobby. At Ponce we headed west towards Piedmont Ave, and then headed north towards the park.

  “Alrighty Mr. Wellington,” I said. “Tell me about your life.”

  All of a sudden a sadness fell over him like a ton of bricks. I had instantly regretted asking that question. “Dude, sorry, I just like to get to know people, is all,” I said.

  “No, man, it’s alright.” He smiled weakly and said “I’m just trying to figure out what parts to leave out.”

  “Hey,” I said, chuckling a bit, “I didn’t mean to stir up something bad, just was asking.”

  “Really, it’s ok. Oh, man” he said, sighing. “Where do I begin.”

  Part 6

  “Alrighty Mr. Wellington,” I said. “Tell me about your life.”

  All of a sudden a sadness fell over him like a ton of bricks. Instantly I regretted asking that question. “Dude, sorry, I just like to get to know people, is all,” I said.

  “No, man, it’s alright.” He smiled weakly and said “I’m just trying to figure out what parts to leave out.”

  “Hey,” I said, chuckling a bit, “I didn’t mean to stir up something bad, just was asking.”

  “Really, it’s ok. Oh, man” he said, sighing. “Where do I begin.”

  * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  “Look,” I said, “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that since we’re going to be together for the next five weeks I thought-“

  “Eight.”

  “Oops. Eight weeks-that now’d be a good time to get to know you. We can talk about something else if you’d like. Wanna talk about Christmas?” Now I was trying to make light of the situation.

  He chuckled a bit. “Martin, it’s alright.”

  “You know, nobody’s ever called me that. It's always been just Mike.”

  “Not Mikey?” with a grin.

  “Uh….no. Don’t go there. I always thought that nicknames were cool on some people; just never ha
d one myself.”

  “Martin it is, then.”

  “Well, at least I’ll know who you’re talking to. Now if you ask me for sex,” referring to the drink the night before, and I just let it go at that, laughing at my own dopey joke.

  “So tell me about yourself. Other than the fact that you cuss a lot.”

  I laughed a bit. “Yeah, I do cuss a lot, don’t I.” I noticed how deftly he’d changed the subject from him to me. Oh well.

  “It’s all part of your charm,” Matt said.

  “Now you’re talkin’. Well, what would you like to know? Hey,” I stopped walking, “will this be, like, our first date? With all these questions….well, you know.” He laughed at that.

  We continued walking. “Well, for starters, are you from Georgia?”

  “Nope. I’m originally from New York.”

  “Yankee!” he said with a big smile. Perfect teeth, dammit. God, I dug that smile.

  “Yeah? Fuck off. I got enough of that bullshit from you when I moved here,” I said half-heartedly.

  “What do you mean?” He looked kinda puzzled.

  “You don’t remember, do you.”

  “No, I thought you said you were from Arizona yesterday.”

  “I said I moved here from Arizona, but I was born in New York.” He snickered at that. “What?”

  “I’m not gonna say it.”

  “What? ‘Yankee’?”

  “Yes,” he laughed a bit.

  “Idiot. And what’s up with that shit anyhow? War’s over, pal.”

  “It’s just how I….” and his voice trailed off.

  “How you what?”

  “Well, I was gonna say how I was raised, but I should correct that and say how I wasn't raised.”

  “Ahh.”

  “Well why’d you leave New York? City too big?”

  “No, we lived Upstate near Rome. When I was nine my dad took a job near Phoenix and we moved out there.”

  “One extreme to another,” he laughed.

  “Yep. We lived out there for two years. I really liked it; had some good friends. Then dad took a job here and we moved to Stone Mountain right after I finished sixth grade. It’s funny because I remember thinking that Georgia would be the same as Arizona, with the city laid out in a grid and you could ride your bike to the store or the arcade or school. It’s just so damn hilly here that’s almost impossible.”

  “True.”

  The sidewalks in this part of town are old and kind of crumbly and just then the poor cameraman stumbled and fell. We both helped him up and asked if he was ok. He said that he was but his camera was not and he’d have to get a replacement. He called one of the producers and they brought out a car to get him, but not an extra camera. Then we both realized that they were leaving us without a cameraman. It kind of confused us because we were told that we could never leave the studio without a cameraman in tow. Technically, though, we hadn’t. They were tailing us and then left us. Oh well. Nobody told us what to do so we continued our walk.

  “I wonder if they’ll try to catch up.”

  “How do they know where we’re going?” Matt asked.

  “Well, nut, we’re on video tape. Their own, to boot. If they can’t figure that out then I can’t help them.”

  “Go on with what you were saying….about just moving here from Arizona.”

  “Oh yeah. In Arizona I had quite a few friends and I was, well, not really a ‘leader’ but I was someone who was always goofing off, sometimes getting in trouble. Then I moved here and it was quite a culture shock.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, there’s all this Southern pride and lots of people still fighting the Civil War. Add that to me moving here and starting school in seventh grade, when everyone was already in their own group. It was just tough. What can I say. But then, what are ya gonna do.”

  “You said you knew me in elementary school?”

  “Oh man, I tried to steer clear of you,” I said chuckling.

  He chuckled a bit too and asked “How come.”

  “Man, let me tell you this as gently as I can….you were the biggest asshole to me.”

  “I was?” he asked, looking over at me.

  “Oh my God. I guess I also forgot what it was like to be the new kid on the block after I moved here. I was the newbie in Arizona too. Some of the guys who were shits I actually ended up befriending and most things turned out pretty cool. I actually benefitted from the Arizona experience because oddly enough, after Christmas break there was when some of the douchebags became pretty cool to me. So I figured that the same thing would happen here. Believe it or not once Christmas break was over I made more friends here as well. I sorta knew it would happen. But then, some of you guys were just…..shitty.”

  He laughed a bit at that “Man, I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Don’t sweat it. I don’t hold any grudges. I mean hell, that was years ago, right?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Oddly enough, even at that time I had…” I almost told him then that I used to have a crush on him. I guess I could have, seeing as there were no cameras around. But I try not to get my sexuality involved in most conversations. I mean, straight people don’t walk around saying “Hi, I’m Bob and I’m straight.” Plus, Matt was straight, right?

  “You had what.”

  “You know,” I laughed “right as I said that I lost track of what I was saying. I have to say, though, that you stood out in my mind as the worst of all the guys.”

  “Really.”

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “Why’s that?”

  I paused for a moment. “Is it really important?”

  He stopped walking and touched my arm with his hand, turning me towards him a bit. “Yes. It is.” I could see in his eyes that he was sadened, or upset, or something.

  “Man, you were pretty friggin’ mean and it didn’t stop until after ninth grade.” We continued walking. By this point we had just turned onto Piemont and were heading north towards the park.

  “What’d I do?” he said quietly.

  I sighed. “Well, first there was that time you slugged me in the back in Miss Harris’ class. (Note to the readers: In the South we call every woman "Miss" so-and-so, whether or not she’s a Miss or a Missus. Just so’s you knows.) For no reason at all. I actually turned around and you said if I hit you back you’d kill me. Nice move. You used to throw my books from my hands, break my shit. The hardest thing for me to forget, since you obviously want to be tortured with your past,” I said smiling over at him “is when you sorta body checked me in ninth grade.”

  He looked over at me. “Sort of?”

  “Well, we were up in the wrestling room during gym class. I was walking towards the weight room and you came running across the mats and dove feet first into me, knocking me over. The hardest thing I think to get over was I knew that my pride was really hurt.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, if I had known how to defend myself, stand up to guys like you, or at least how you were then, I….I don’t know how to explain it. I guess I lost a little self respect.”

  “Esteem?”

  “No. I don’t buy into the whole ‘self-esteem’ psycho-babble. I lost self respect because I didn’t have the balls to try and defend myself. Not that I ever could, mind you. You were tougher than I was. Hell, for that matter my cat was tougher than I was.” He smiled at this. “So in a way I lost some self regard for not standing up for myself.”

  “Why didn’t you? I mean, why’d you take it?”

  “Didn’t want to make enemies. Didn’t want to make things worse. Sort of like Europe appeasing Hitler by surrendering Poland. Knew I’d get my ass kicked and didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. I’m tellin’ you man, I was a wuss. I knew that nobody’d be on my side. What was I going to do? I actually smiled after you did it, so I wouldn’t get upset.” I sighed and said “Matty, you really were a prick.”

  “I’m sorry.” I could hear in hi
s voice that he was and he kept looking away from me.

  “Hey pal, don’t worry about it. Trust me. I got over it.”

  “No, I really am sorry for causing you that kind of pain. I know I used to be a real shit-suck, but I’ve never talked to any of the people I’d picked on. You know, I actually remember doing some of that stuff. I just asked because I wasn’t sure if you had. Frankly I’d kinda hoped that you hadn’t. Mike, I really am truly sorry for that; for how I was.”