Girlfriends

by Patrick Sanchez

  “No, Linda is taking her new girlfriend, Rosa something-or-other, and Peter is going with me.”

  “When did Linda get a girlfriend?”

  “She met her at the bank about a month ago, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “She’s fine, I guess.”

  “So, in other words, she’s a bitch, and you hate her.”

  “Dennis! I do not. But must they do everything together? I don’t think I’ve seen Linda independent of Rosa since they met.”

  “Someone’s jealous,” Dennis said in a catty tone.

  “I’m not jealous. I’m happy Linda has someone. It just aggravates me that when people get involved in a relationship, they let it suck up their life.”

  “But it’s nice she found someone. It’s so hard, especially for us gay folks. We have such a smaller percentage of the population to choose from.”

  “Oh, boo-hoo,” Gina joked. “It isn’t any picnic for us straight girls either.”

  “Well, at least you can get married, adopt kids, join the military. . . .”

  “Join the military? Since when did you want to join the military? I don’t think I can picture you in fatigues, running around Kosovo.”

  “That’s for sure. Do they have a Nordstrom in Kosovo? Because if not . . .”

  “I don’t think so, Dennis. You might have to actually wear synthetic fabrics.”

  “Heavens no!” Dennis replied, putting his hands over his face in mock horror.

  Gina laughed. “Let’s just agree that it’s tough out there for both of us. What do you say if we’re still alone in ten years we buy a house and grow old together? Just like Will and Grace.”

  “Only if I get to be Grace,” Dennis joked. “Although I’d want bigger boobs than she has.”

  “God, even gay men are obsessed with big breasts. Maybe I should get that boob job after all,” Gina sighed.

  “Gina, I’m sure you’ll find a great guy with your real boobs, and when you do—”

  “When! More like if.”

  “You and me both.”

  “What? Your love life is in the toilet as well?”

  “Gina, I don’t even try anymore. Although I did meet this guy the other night, but why would anything work out with him? Nothing ever does.”

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  “JR’s. He just walked up to me and introduced himself.”

  “So what happened?”

  “We chatted for a little while and . . . well . . . eventually, I agreed to accompany him home.”

  “Slut,” Gina said, laughing. “So, have you heard from him since?”

  “Actually, he called the other day. We’re supposed to go out next weekend.”

  “Well, good for you. I didn’t think you went out that much anymore.”

  “I don’t. It’s just not worth it. I’m over the whole scene, for now anyway. The clubs don’t even start hopping until midnight. First, I have to find a guy who doesn’t make me want to puke. Then I have to strike up a conversation with him and pretend I give a shit about where he’s from, what he does, his hobbies.... By the time we get back to my place and have to chat for a while again, it’s almost morning when the sex finally gets started, and then I’m too tired to enjoy it.”

  “I hear you,” Gina said, agreeing with Dennis. “And then you have the losers who want to stay the night.”

  “I know. I’m like ‘Hello! You were okay to fuck, but get the hell out of my bed now that it’s over.’ ”

  “Or they want to go to breakfast the next morning,” Gina added. “Like I want to eat breakfast with some stranger I met at a bar. It’s a bunch of losers out there, Dennis. I’ve pretty much given up myself.”

  “Oh, please. You’ll find someone.”

  “I don’t know. No one interests me, and if by some remote chance I find someone who does, he isn’t interested in me. It’s not like I’m asking much. All I want is a fairly interesting, reasonably attractive guy. That’s it. That’s all I ask . . . well, I guess I’d also prefer he have a decent job and be taller than me and not smoke and be in decent shape and around my age . . . oh, and not have any cats. . . .”

  Before Gina could finish her laundry list, the salon receptionist interrupted her. “Ms. Perry, there’s a telephone call for you at the front desk.”

  “It’s probably Linda running late,” Gina replied, hopping up from the chair.

  She reached for the phone. “This is Gina.”

  “Hey. It’s me,” Peter said in a hoarse voice on the other end. “Please don’t hate me, but I’m sick. I’ve got the flu or something. I’m not going to be able to go to the reunion tonight.”

  God! You are such a hypochondriac! Who gets the flu in the middle of the summer? “Oh, no, Peter. Please say you’re joking.”

  “I’m sorry, Gina. You know I’d go if I could.”

  Gina stood there in silence for a minute before responding. “All right,” she said with resignation. “If you’re sick, you’re sick.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Okay, Peter. Feel better,” Gina replied, and hung up the phone. She knew better than to try to convince Peter to go out when he wasn’t feeling well. With the wind completely out of her sails, she stumbled back to Dennis’ chair.

  “What’s the matter?” Dennis asked. “Someone’s not a happy camper.”

  “That was Peter. He’s sick, so I get to go to my reunion alone—like a big, fat loser.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yep. Damn! There must be someone to go with me,” Gina said, sitting back down in the chair and catching Dennis’ reflection in the mirror. He was rather attractive with his blond hair and blue eyes and had a harder body than Peter’s.

  “Hey, Dennis? How about doing one of your best clients a favor?”

  Ten Years Later

  “This is weird. I actually feel a little nervous,” Gina said to the gang as they pulled into the Omni Shoreham Hotel in D.C. Gina was in the front seat with Dennis. Linda and Rosa were in the back with their knees practically in their faces. They hardly had room to move in the backseat of Dennis’ car, but they all agreed that his convertible Mustang was the best choice for transportation to the reunion. Gina and Linda both drove Honda Civics. Although not a bad vehicle, a Japanese economy car didn’t exactly scream success.

  “My stomach has a bit of a knot in it too,” Linda replied, beginning to wonder if bringing her girlfriend to the reunion was such a great idea. When she made the decision, she was in one of her Melissa Etheridge moods with that I-don’t-care-what-they-think! attitude. Now, when it was time to put up or shut up, she was having some regrets about not just coming alone and dodging boyfriend questions throughout the night.

  Dennis handed the keys to the valet, and he and the girls got out of the car.

  “You ready?” Gina smiled and turned to Linda. Linda just returned the smile, and they walked into the lobby. The official start time was about forty-five minutes earlier, but they didn’t dare risk arriving early. How awful it might be to arrive before most of the guests got there. They might have ended up in the ballroom with two other early birds whose names they barely knew, and have to make forced conversation.

  The girls waited while Dennis looked on the daily events schedule to see what ballroom the reunion was in. He asked a bellman where the Capitol Room was and led his three female companions to the lower level of the hotel. As they strode past the rest rooms, Gina suggested one last check to make sure everything looked perfect. Rosa declined and waited outside the powder room with Dennis. At Gina’s suggestion, Dennis was wearing a standard charcoal-gray suit he usually reserved for funerals and Catholic weddings. He had a closet full of stylish double-breasted and three-button suits, not to mention a plethora of cashmere sport coats and linen slacks, but Gina didn’t want him looking too stylish. She was trying to reduce the gay factor as much as possible.

  In the bathroom, Gina lightly brushed her hair w
ith her fingers while Linda just stood and watched her. Gina was pleased with her overall look. Dennis had done a great job with her hair and even applied her makeup for her. She knew all the women would be in black, especially the ones who’d ballooned since high school, so she chose a simple red dress she picked up at Neiman Marcus in Chevy Chase—a store she hadn’t been into in years. She couldn’t afford the prices there. But she and Linda didn’t have any luck the day they went shopping at Pentagon City, so Gina decided to go even more upscale. Besides, it was for something special.

  She spotted the dress almost as soon as she walked in the store. The dress itself was not overly formal, but the black belt with sequins on just the buckle gave it a flair of elegance and style. She saw the price when she first pulled it off the rack but chose to ignore it and try it on anyway. When she went in the dressing room and slipped it on, one look in the mirror and she knew she had to have it. It fit her perfectly and fell just above her knees, allowing her to show a little leg without looking like an Ally McBeal wanna be. The red was a great contrast to her blond hair and gave her face a bit of a rosy shade. A few minutes later she opened up a Neiman Marcus account and charged the nine-hundred-dollar dress.

  Looking in the mirror in the hotel rest room, Gina knew it was worth every penny, even if she was going to have to live in the dark and eat cat food for a few months to pay for it. Besides, she put on extra deodorant and was wearing a slip just in case she decided to pull a Shirley and return the dress the next day. A few years earlier, Shirley got her hands on one of those little machines that click out plastic threads and hold the price tags onto garments. She could easily put the tags back on the dress for Gina. Although it meant Gina would have to swallow her pride and ask for help with something she constantly reprimanded Shirley for doing.

  Linda was looking pretty good herself. Gina had convinced Linda to let Dennis do her up as well. A few weeks earlier, Gina persuaded her to buy a snazzy black pantsuit with gold buttons from Bloomingdale’s. The price of Linda’s outfit didn’t compare to Gina’s purchase, but it was still quite a stretch for Linda to spend as much as she had on one outfit.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” Gina called to Dennis and Rosa as she and Linda emerged from the bathroom. They continued down the hall and approached the reception table where two perky young ladies were sitting.

  “Gina Perry and Linda Collins!” the young lady to the left announced with a toothy smile. “How are you?” she added as she fumbled through the name tags strewn all over the table. “One for you, Gina, and here’s yours, Linda.”

  “Oh, no! They have our senior pictures on them,” Gina groaned, somewhat concerned about pinning the name tag to her nine-hundred-dollar dress. “Nice to see you again,” Gina said to the women behind the table, although she had no idea who either of them were. Linda nodded in agreement with Gina, and they proceeded into the ballroom with Dennis and Rosa following.

  “Oh, God . . . there’s Kathy Wolwine,” Gina whispered to Linda.

  “Gina!” Kathy screamed, and trotted toward her. She gave Gina a big hug and then smiled at Linda and hugged her too. “Girlfriend, you got it goin’ on! Look at you . . . like a supermodel,” she crooned to Gina, and then with somewhat less enthusiasm turned back to Linda. “And, Linda, you haven’t aged a bit. You look great.”

  “You’re not doing so bad yourself. How are you?”

  “Oh, you know. I’m performing anywhere I can.”

  There was one in every class—the girl who thought she could sing and dance and act and look pretty—the girl who was going to become a star—the girl who usually ended up in a mouse suit at Busch Gardens. In Gina’s class, that girl was Kathy Wolwine. She was in every school play and demanded that she have solo performances when the school choir sang at various events. Unfortunately for her (and for those who had to listen to her), she had a high-pitched, nasal voice and an uncanny ability to make the latest pop tunes sound like opera—bad opera.

  “Really. We’re all still waiting to see your name in lights,” Gina said with a smile.

  “You never know. I’m doing community theater and just signed with a modeling agency.”

  “That’s great.”

  “It’s called Spectra Models. They’re in Baltimore,” Kathy replied with a proud smile. “Oh, look. I need to go say hi to Laura. Let’s chat some more later.”

  After Kathy was out of earshot, Linda quietly said to Gina, “A model—with those hips? What does she model? Muumuus?”

  “Oh, please, I’ve heard of Spectra Models. They’re one of those agencies that send fat ladies to the mall to scout so-called potential models. They give you their business card and tell you that you have a great look and could have a bright future as a model. Then, when you go to meet with the agency, you learn that you have to pay them for some ridiculous training that supposedly prepares you for a modeling career. I think it’s around a thousand bucks to learn how to walk down a runway. Shame she got suckered into it.”

  “How do you know so much about it?”

  “I don’t know. I saw a report on the news or something,” Gina said, starting to blush.

  As the evening progressed, Gina and Linda perused the room and caught up with old classmates while Dennis and Rosa sat at a table and discussed all the things a gay man and a lesbian have in common. Twenty seconds later they began to get antsy and wished their respective dates would return.

  Eventually, the girls returned to the table. Gina sat next to Dennis and Linda next to Rosa. Gina was soon busy pointing out various class members she suspected were gay to see what Dennis thought of them. She was always amazed at his ability to sniff out other homosexuals before he even spoke to them. They might see a guy who looked perfectly heterosexual to Gina, and Dennis would confidently assess that he was gay—and he was always right. Gina tried to get Dennis to let her in on the clues, but he claimed there were no definite clues. It was just a feeling . . . a radar. Gina wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not. For all she knew, there could’ve been some universal identifying gay symbol or gesture homosexuals were forbidden to share with straight folks.

  As they conversed about various classmates, Jenny Parks showed up at their table.

  “Dennis! What are you doing here?”

  “Hi, Jenny. I’m here with a friend,” Dennis replied, gesturing toward Gina.

  “Gina Perry! How are you? How do you know Dennis?”

  “We’ve been friends for a while.”

  “Really, well, I’ve been one of Dennis’s clients for years. He’s the best colorist in town.”

  Oh, shit, Gina thought. If Jenny’s mouth was anywhere near as big as it was in high school, it would be mere minutes before the entire room knew Gina was at her high school reunion with her gay hairdresser.

  “You didn’t say anything about a reunion this morning when I was doing your hair,” Dennis said to Jenny.

  “Yes, I did. I must have mentioned it a hundred times.”

  God, I’ve got to actually start listening to these broads, Dennis thought.

  “A hundred times, Dennis,” Gina said. “She must have mentioned it a hundred times, and you didn’t tell me. You little devil you,” Gina continued, starting to feel flushed. She could see Jenny plotting behind her phony smile—plotting to matter-of-factly tell Gina’s entire senior class that she couldn’t get a date to the party. She must have been aching to get away from the table and start spreading the news.

  “Well, it’s so nice to see you guys. What a hoot to run into my hairdresser at my reunion. Listen, I’ve got to mosey, but let’s catch up later.”

  “Sure,” Gina replied, and turned to Dennis. “Great, just great! Now she knows I’m here with a gay guy.”

  “Watch it, Gina, or you’ll be here with no guy.”

  “I’m sorry, Dennis. I know you’re doing me a favor, but I just had a plan for how this evening would go, and this wasn’t part of it.”

  “Why do you even care what these people think? You nev
er see any of them.”

  “You know what, Dennis? I really don’t know,” Gina replied.

  “Think about it, Gina. Everyone here is so caught up in themselves, they’re all worrying about how they’re being perceived. Believe me, no one in here is concerned in the slightest with you. And if they look outside their self-obsessed little worlds for a moment or two to pay you any attention, they’d see a stunning young woman with beautiful blond hair . . . thanks to me, of course, and killer legs that rival Tina Turner’s,” Dennis said before coyly adding, “and they most certainly would wish their date was half as handsome as yours.”

  Gina let herself smile just slightly. “You’re sweet, Dennis.”

  “Gina, you’re a beautiful girl with everything going for you. If only you weren’t so thickheaded and could see that.”

  Gina thought about what Dennis said for a moment—about her being a beautiful girl and having killer legs. Part of her did believe she was beautiful, but part of her also believed she just plain wasn’t. Tonight, the “wasn’t” part of her was winning out.

  I only wish you were right, Gina thought to herself, looking at Dennis. God, how I wish you were right.

  Afflicted

  “God, would you hurry up, I’m starving,” Cheryl said to Peter as he finished putting his shoes on. Cooper was out of town on business and Cheryl hadn’t seen Peter in a couple of weeks. She didn’t have anything else to do, so she called Peter to see if he wanted to grab dinner with her.

  “You know, Gina would absolutely kill me if she knew I was going out tonight.”

  “What’s the big deal?”

  “I was supposed to go with her to her reunion tonight, but I just felt sick this morning. I was really feeling bad when I called her to cancel.”

  “So now you’re feeling better, and you’re going to grab a bite to eat. Besides, who’s going to tell her?” Cheryl said as they walked out of the apartment.

  Cheryl needed to swing by her office in Falls Church, so they headed out to Virginia and planned on grabbing a quick dinner there. After Cheryl retrieved the file she needed, they drove around Falls Church, trying to find somewhere to eat.