Excision is Necessary

The wisdom of the Wizard: A Mack truck is a Mack truck. There's nothing wrong with that. It does what a Mack truck does. Just don't stand in it's way!

Resolution: Start the excision. Stop talking/thinking/writing so much about Narc. The project begins! (Again!)

But before I begin, let me tell you what went down this weekend And in the spirit of excision, I will try my best to keep it relatively brief.

On Friday afternoon, after teaching all day, having been awake since 6:00 am, I was sitting in my office, drafting my last post, Babies and Black Hair. My cell phone rang. It was Narc calling from his home phone. At 2:00 in the afternoon? WTF?!?!?!

I answered.

"Hey!"

"Hyde, I'm dyyyyying!" he groaned.

"What? What's going on over there?" I laughed.

"I'm dying, Hyde! Dyyyyyyying!"

"Why are you dying?"

"Ugh! Out with James last night. We were up til all hours."

"Uh oh! A James night? Did you coke up?"

"No, but we were up til 6:00 or 7:00 anyway."

"That's no good," I laughed kind of awkwardly. "Well, I've been up working today. Back to school!"

"I want to order a pizza," he said. "A pizza with pepperoni. I know it's not vegetarian, but that's okay. I can cheat this time because I'm dying!"

"Oh, no! Well, is there anything I can do to prevent any further dying?" I asked. "It sounds like a dire circumstance!"

"Yeah... You could come down here and _______ and _________ and then ______..."

(I leave it to your imagination, but you get the point.)

"Well, I'm at my office now, Narc. And I would have to go home first. And I don't have money for cabs. So there's no way I could be there til 4:00 pm the absolute earliest."

"4:00 pm? I don't know if the pizza can wait that long, even if I can wait."

"Well, you could always eat and then save me a slice."

"Just hurry, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Hurry!"

(Now I know you may think it's strange that I was eager to run to him "on call" like that, but we have a particular sexual dynamic, and I was excited about it. It doesn't bother me. It's not the part of this whole thing that I have trouble with.)

So, I did hurry. I raced out of there and took the bus home. Then, while on the phone with Hammer, I shaved, packed my bags and fed my cat. I had to ride the subway down near to rush hour, which was unpleasant. I made it to him by 4:39.

Anyway, you can imagine what our hangout was like. The usual-- television and sex. He fell asleep on the couch and I lay with my head on his stomach watching Les Mis on TV. At one point, he wanted Ben & Jerry's, so I volunteerd to go to the deli to get him some. He talked about PopStarChick a lot. A LOT. A HELL of a lot! Why?

Why? Hammer asked me.

I don't know. Dense, cruel, or simply doesn't care...

For a while we were talking about his parents and how they met. It's astounding to me how little he knows about his family and how isolated he was as a child in some respects. Then, later at one point we were talking about drinking and he started telling me the story of a girl who got wasted during his trip to Europe.

"We were in Greece," he said. "And I was walking back to the hotel and saw her passed out on the beach and she was all shivering and stuff."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I helped her up. I was drunk too, so I didn't know where her room was, so I brought her back to mine. We had two beds. Obviously I wasn't with her or anything. But the next morning she was like 'did we...?' 'No!' I told her. I'm not going to fuck a passed out woman!"

"Right."

"But that other girl, V wouldn't talk to me after that. I slept with her the first week of the trip, and I guess she thought I slept with the passed out girl too and was pissed about it."

What???

Wait-- WHAT????

Ever since the fall of '04, he's been throwing it up in my face that he hasn't slept with anyone else but me since he's met me! And even if he DID sleep with some girl in Europe, why is he telling me about it now? Is he trying to be mean?

I didn't say anything.

Later he asked me whether or not I have plans for Valentine's Day.

"No, I don't have any plans," I said. "What about you?"

"Nope. No plans. I've never had a date for Valentine's," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've never been dating anyone and had a Valentine's Day fall in there."

Oh, yeah. That's right. We're "not in a relationship."

"We were together last Valentine's Day," I said. "Do you remember? We went to Waikiki Wallys."

"We did?"

"Yeah! Remember? We watched 24 at my place and then we went to Cheers and there was no one there. BarMan waited on us, remember? Then we walked up to Opal and it was raining. And then you got a craving for something they only have a Waikiki Wally's and you convinced me to go down with you."

"One of those coconut drinks?"

"No. You wanted their tuna sashimi appetizer, remember?"

"How do you remember everything, Hyde?"

"I don't know. But that was the weekend we hung out with Anxious at Manchester and they opened the Gates project."

"They must have lost so much money on that project," he said.

That was the day you masturbated in front of Anxious! I didn't say.

"So... well... why don't we go on a Valentine's Day date?" I suggested meekly.

(I mean, wasn't that what he was leading to anyway? Why couldn't he just ask me?)

"Um, yeah, sure... I mean, what day is Valentine's anyway?" he asked.

"I think it's on a Tuesday this year."

"Um, yeah, so we'll see..." And then he kind of changed the subject.

I was confused. Did he just want to raise my expectations without making a plan or an agreement?

Later, after we had gotten into bed and had sex, laying there in the dark, I ventured to bring it up again.

"So do you want to hang out on Valentine's, Narc?"

"Um, yeah... Sure, I guess... I'll check my calendar in the morning," he said.

That was it.

The next morning we woke up and Narc cleaned up the house a bit before we headed for brunch. I had to charge the meal because I was low on cash.

"I'm low on cash too," he said. "But I can go to the ATM and give you something back."

"Okay."

(He never did).

I don't really feel like going into everything about the opera. It was weird though. I felt like we didn't have things to talk about.

At one point in Act II, Dorabella sings: Qual vuoi sceglier per te de' due Narcisi?

(It roughly translates into something about choosing between two Narcissists. I winced. I wondered if he noticed.)

After the opera, we were waiting for the elevators.

"So, what are you up to now?" I asked.

"Well, you know I have plans with CouchSleeper tonight," he began. "I'm not sure when he's free, but he said he'd call me between 5:00 and 5:30."

I looked at my watch. It was 5:20.

"We're supposed to meet in the West Village, so I guess I'll just walk down there."

"You're going to walk all the way to the West Village?"

"Yeah! It'll be good to get some air."

I didn't say anything. It was clear he wasn't going to ask me along. I wondered if we would go get some coffee or something before he had to go. After all, CouchSleeper hadn't called yet.

We exited onto the plaza and walked past the majestic fountain. Neither of us said much.

"So... I'm turning South here," he said, as we approached 9th avenue.

"Um, okay..."

"You're meeting Hammer tonight, right?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess I'll just take the bus home."

"Okay. Well, thanks for the opera," he said. "It was lovely."

(Was he really going to ditch me just like that?)

He gave me a hug. "See you soon."

He walked away. I was dumbfounded.

No coffee? No glass of wine? No walk to the bus stop (a few feet away)? I felt my face and my chest growing numb. I fumbled for a cigarette, still rooted to the spot on the sidewalk. I watched him disappearing, his long black coat swaying, his gait shifting from side to side. And then he was gone. I could NOT BELIEVE IT. (Although no one else that I know seems to be too surprised.) I finished the cigarette, the emptying theater crowds swirling around me, past me. I felt dizzy. The sky was dimming. I lit a second cigarette and started to walk. I sent B a text:

I am so stupid, I wrote.

I called Hammer and told her what happened.

"Oh no, Hyde! Why don't you come over here?" (She was nearby at the Wizard's place).

I went over there, a tear or two escaped down my cheek. I couldn't feel anything except for the burn of the cigarette smoke on my tounge. I chewed on my lip. I was numb.

Hammer and the Wizard greeted me with hugs. I sat down at his dining table and we talked for a while. The bottom line-- they both agreed that this is eroding me... draining me. They're right. But it's hard when you love someone to let go of it. (I guess that's stating the obvious, but still...)

Hammer's Hand
After a really long talk, the Wizard had to get back to work (studying for his orals). Hammer and I went over to the Time Warner Center where she bought a shirt in Esprit, and then we got dinner at the sushi bar at Whole Foods. We couldn't quite decide what to do after that, so we just headed back to Hammer's house to hang out. We had a great time just being bums, smoking weed (nice rolling Hammer!) and watching SNL. We drank some 40's and I gave us tattoos using my liquid eyeliner and her Sephora eye slicks. Hammer made us some gruyere quesadillas. At around 2:00, she was falling asleep and I was high enough. Time to go home.

Hyde's arm

But I didn't go home. (You guys know me well enough by now!) I went to Cheers. I was so fucking stoned. I found myself unable to tear my eyes from whatever basketball game was on TV, the bottles swaying behind the bar.

"Hyde, what's that on your arm?" PumpedUp laughed.

"Tell me you didn't!" "Don't worry... I didn't! It's just eyeliner."

Nothing much happened at Cheers. I drank six drinks and blew off an airline piolet who was too drunk to seem coherent, (even in my stoned state).

At the end of the night, I went to tell IrishBird what had happened that afternoon at the opera.

"Can you believe it's been a year since our last attempt at the opera!" I exclaimed. "Do you remember I called you from the plaza that day?"

"I remember, Hyde. Stop doing this to yourself."

I told her how he had called me to his place on Friday afternoon and how I had gone running. I told her how I had paid his tab last week at the bar, paid for brunch, paid for the opera and never even gotten a birthday card. FightingMensch was sitting nearby and I suddenly realized he could hear me. He got upset and walked away. I was embarrassed.

So, I went home. It was nearly 5:00 am.

What can I say?

Excision is necessary. But surgery hurts.