When I was 26 I met Leslie. I'm going to let that sink in for a moment, cause that's just how awesome she is. Period. She is the brightest and wittiest badass in any room, she charms people with her smile and laughter; you just want to be around her. Well...I got lucky, we're best friends, for life.
Our friendship started out like many, we both worked for Big Lots as lowly employees showing up for a field day. It was an easy job. On my first day, I met Leslie. I wasn't necessarily what people call "in" or "out" at this time in my life. I would say that I was more just "casually gay". You could hear it a little in my voice and my mannerisms could sometimes be over the top, but I never just up and opened a conversation with, "Hi! I'm gay."
I could tell right off there was a question on all the employee's minds. "Is he gay?" You know how it is, no one wants to be the one to ask. Leslie, she's fierce and doesn't give a shit. She called it from the second I walked in. When we were assigned to the same section it took about a minute before I said something effeminately and it got brought up. Had it been years later in our friendship she would have laughed and called me a faggot, which she's allowed to do... we're that close. The defining moment that sealed our friendship and set us on a path of crazy funny was when she threw a can of sardines at my face. An accident of course but thrown with love none the less. It was at that moment we became life partners. A fag and his (beautiful) hag.
The first few months we had a normal, budding friendship, seeing each other only at work. And then it happened. I was living with my cousin, Thomas and his wife Jillian. We all loved each other but, cramped wouldn't even describe the situation. With them and their kids, it was just not ideal for a long stay. I ended up overstaying my welcome anyway. Jillian had had enough. Thomas and I, we loved to relax if you know what I mean. When we weren't working we were getting fucked up. And usually on their balcony, playing loud music smoking some pot and drinking some crazy beer Thomas had managed to find. He's a self-made connoisseur of all things beer and pot. And it didn't help that his neighbor was cool as shit and would join us in our antics. By the time Jillian got ready for bed the two balconies had conjoined and something like a class of college students would be strewn about just...relaxing.
When my time at their place had come to an end, the only other people that I could think of to bother about a place to stay were my work buddies. I asked around, seeing if anyone knew who would be the best person to ask then, lo-and-behold, one of the stockers needed a roommate for extra cash in her pocket. Long story short, she gouged me on a dinky 5x5 room with no closet and a prison window, and, I had to pay her five bucks each time she drove me to or from work. No joke, she tried that shit. I stayed for one night, nothing more. Naturally, I complained at work the next day, loudly. I would come to find out that no one thought it was a great idea to move in with her anyway, no one could really stand her. She eventually quit. Nobody cared.
I must not have asked Leslie the first time around and I didn't even have to. My complaints traveled quickly through the store. She heard about the issues I was having and jumped in, offering a place to stay with her family, the coolest people ever. I guess I see where she gets it from now.
From the moment I stepped in the door I was deemed a family member and told I should feel comfortable no matter what. Then, they served me a giant plate of dinner; I don't remember what it was but I do remember it was good. This family can cook. Leslie is a killer chef, making things I swear should be in fancy restaurants. But, out of everything she could cook our favorite thing to eat was mac and cheese with creamy, buttery corn. She would use several extra pieces of cheese, look at the pasta with a devilish smile and this shit would be perfection. And the corn...I can't even. Actually, I eat with all the glory of a glutton so...I can.
It came to my attention very soon that you had to be sneaky with food in this house. A box of cereal could be eaten in just a few hours, and ice cream... you might not even know that there was any ice cream until you see the evidence in the trash. Me and Leslie, we'd taken to having late night meals while everyone was asleep. Sometime after midnight, after getting blazed and playing video games, (Mario Kart is the shit) we would come downstairs and Leslie would work her magic.
Though our cooking habits were conniving, ordering food to be delivered to the house had to be even sneakier. Once we ordered Italian to eat while watching our favorite show, but we had to figure out how to get the food safely to our room bypassing Leslie's grandmother in the process. We had grown accustomed to Leslie's grandmother, Memaw, who spent most of the day at either the kitchen table, smoking her cigar like cigarettes, drinking her iced tea, or, on the couch sleeping while watching tv. On this particular night, her favorite wrestling show was on and she was really into it, on the couch, right next to the front door. We both knew Memaw would smell the food immediately and ask for some, and when one person in the house finds out you ordered food, they all know. We resorted to tying an old ribbon to the handle of a plastic bag and pulling up through the bedroom window. Being stealthy was crucial at this point. Memaw had the blinds and window open. I'm standing right out of her view tying the two together while trying to not pull the ribbon out of Leslie's hand as the ribbon was not long enough. I quickly tie the two together and signal for Leslie to begin pulling. She's upstairs finagled under her desk stretching to get to the tiny window opened underneath.
After watching the food slowly rise while daring the bag to bust, we had success. Our dinner was safe in our room and nobody knew. We were ready to laze the rest of the night away without being bothered. Which ended about a minute later when her mom walked in to see what we were up to. We had to share.
Other times we'd order a pizza, tell everyone we were choosing to enjoy a cigarette outside and meet the delivery guy before he came to the door. But instead, we would sit across the street and devour the whole thing before going back in. This one night we were just hanging around, kinda dancing/eating/listening to music when something funny was said, it's always something funny with us. Laughing uninhibitedly and with an overly full mouth, I spat some pizza directly into Leslie's mouth. I know right now while I'm writing that if she ever reads this she will puke just like she did that night. Leslie and her mom could be made to throw up just by someone pretending to gag, so this was the worst possible, best accident I have ever witnessed. I died.
Leslie's mom was sneaky too. Ahhhh, Gerrie, the woman with the beautiful legs. She could stop a train if she showed a little leg on the tracks. Gerrie had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, she definitely made me feel like I had two moms. She's will laugh at you at the precise moment you do something stupid (which happened to me more often than not) but do it in such a way that you see the humor as well. Or, she'll talk straight with you if she has to. Leslie seriously got all these characteristics from her for sure.
About a handful of times, I had awoken before Leslie and found Gerri already awake downstairs, playing her game on her computer, surrounded by Dr. Pepper cans. If I got lucky she would have to go run some kind of errand and I'd tag along. This is where it gets delicious and devious. She introduced me to her little morning secret, the chicken-potato-burrito, a little slice of heaven in the form of Tex-Mex fast food. I've been hooked ever since. She'd often do this on her early morning excursions while everyone was still asleep. She was on a schedule opposite from Leslie and myself.
Just like Leslie and I, Gerrie and I had a few good times too. This day was my day off and I wasn't expecting any problems. I had my pot and I think at this point I was still using Myspace (shit I'm getting old.) Like any other day, I just sat in front of the computer clicking away at different pages, bored outta my mind waiting for Leslie to get off work when I'm struck with the significant urge to go pee. I sat there for like an hour longer cause I'm a lazy, stoned bitch.
When I finally get up to go, and I mean, go, I wrap my fingers around the doorknob, anticipating relief, I turn and pull, it won't open, it's stuck. Like stuck stuck. I'm at home right, so I don't get too worked up. I tried everything I could think of, credit cards, keys, something, anything that would fit between the wall and this stupid doorknob. Nothing worked and at this point, I seriously have to pee. The second thing one would try to do would be to yell, right? Well, my high ass starts to knock. I knocked very politely at first if you must know. But no one came. I knocked at little louder, realizing that the T.V.'s in every other room were probably turned up real loud. We like the full experience. So...I'm out of ideas and all I can think about is where or what I can pee in because this shit is real right now. Then it happens, there's a light knock (my deaf ass sure was listening out for that shit). So I press my ear against the door and plead softly, "hello..?" it's returned with the same response. Hallelujah!!!! I'm saved! It's Gerrie, she'd been half asleep in the next room drowsy with confusion as to what this knocking noise was. Well, she tried all she could. No progress. even she can't figure out what's wrong with the door.
I have to pee.
Brainstorming definitely is harder to do when your bladder is dying to empty itself anywhere you look. The corner behind the T.V. The empty Dr. Pepper can that kinda looks like it won't hold everything you got inside you right now. Maybe wadding up a blanket on the floor, I'm grasping here.
Leslie's mom's boyfriend Pat was a cool guy with guy-like abilities and he had just returned home from work. This is what he's greeted with, there was some laughter and a few jokes were made. So now, Pat is trying everything he can, and nothing. Dammit.
Now, let me make this clear, yes there is a window. And yes, it's been used for super secret food operations. But never have I ever thought, in any way, about going in or out this window...until now, I'm desperate. I made the decision, I'm going out the window. The computer is in the way, I move it. Some cords and shit are in the way, it's annoying, I don't care. Luckily, the garbage bin was right underneath, I could just barely reach. It was a sign I should have tried to climb out the window in the beginning.
If it had been any other time I would have bowed after finally reaching the ground. I'm proud but I'm running. It's funny, how in the heat of the moment, with a bladder ready to fill the Grand Canyon, you can't think straight. I bobbled a few different directions before darting inside to the nearest toilet to piss for approximately two and a half minutes. I don't even know if I shut the door. I didn't care. I peed, and it was great.
Pat had the door open by the time I got out...I suck.
the punch heard around the world.
How I eat with the glory of a glutton.
Leslie's mom is my second mom. check
Leslie's mom was sneaky too. Ahhhh, Gerrie, the woman with the beautiful legs. She could stop a train if she showed a little leg on the tracks. Gerrie had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, she definitely made me feel like I had two moms. She's will laugh at you at the precise moment you do something stupid (which happened to me more often than not) but do it in such a way that you see the humor as well. Or, she'll talk straight with you if she has to. Leslie seriously got all these characteristics from her for sure.
About a handful of times, I had awoken before Leslie and found Gerri already awake downstairs, playing her game on her computer, surrounded by Dr. Pepper cans. If I got lucky she would have to go run some kind of errand and I'd tag along. This is where it gets delicious and devious. She introduced me to her little morning secret, the chicken-potato-burrito, a little slice of heaven in the form of Tex-Mex fast food. I've been hooked ever since. She'd often do this on her early morning excursions while everyone was still asleep. She was on a schedule opposite from Leslie and myself.
Just like Leslie and I, Gerrie and I had a few good times too. This day was my day off and I wasn't expecting any problems. I had my pot and I think at this point I was still using Myspace (shit I'm getting old.) Like any other day, I just sat in front of the computer clicking away at different pages, bored outta my mind waiting for Leslie to get off work when I'm struck with the significant urge to go pee. I sat there for like an hour longer cause I'm a lazy, stoned bitch.
When I finally get up to go, and I mean, go, I wrap my fingers around the doorknob, anticipating relief, I turn and pull, it won't open, it's stuck. Like stuck stuck. I'm at home right, so I don't get too worked up. I tried everything I could think of, credit cards, keys, something, anything that would fit between the wall and this stupid doorknob. Nothing worked and at this point, I seriously have to pee. The second thing one would try to do would be to yell, right? Well, my high ass starts to knock. I knocked very politely at first if you must know. But no one came. I knocked at little louder, realizing that the T.V.'s in every other room were probably turned up real loud. We like the full experience. So...I'm out of ideas and all I can think about is where or what I can pee in because this shit is real right now. Then it happens, there's a light knock (my deaf ass sure was listening out for that shit). So I press my ear against the door and plead softly, "hello..?" it's returned with the same response. Hallelujah!!!! I'm saved! It's Gerrie, she'd been half asleep in the next room drowsy with confusion as to what this knocking noise was. Well, she tried all she could. No progress. even she can't figure out what's wrong with the door.
I have to pee.
Brainstorming definitely is harder to do when your bladder is dying to empty itself anywhere you look. The corner behind the T.V. The empty Dr. Pepper can that kinda looks like it won't hold everything you got inside you right now. Maybe wadding up a blanket on the floor, I'm grasping here.
Leslie's mom's boyfriend Pat was a cool guy with guy-like abilities and he had just returned home from work. This is what he's greeted with, there was some laughter and a few jokes were made. So now, Pat is trying everything he can, and nothing. Dammit.
Now, let me make this clear, yes there is a window. And yes, it's been used for super secret food operations. But never have I ever thought, in any way, about going in or out this window...until now, I'm desperate. I made the decision, I'm going out the window. The computer is in the way, I move it. Some cords and shit are in the way, it's annoying, I don't care. Luckily, the garbage bin was right underneath, I could just barely reach. It was a sign I should have tried to climb out the window in the beginning.
If it had been any other time I would have bowed after finally reaching the ground. I'm proud but I'm running. It's funny, how in the heat of the moment, with a bladder ready to fill the Grand Canyon, you can't think straight. I bobbled a few different directions before darting inside to the nearest toilet to piss for approximately two and a half minutes. I don't even know if I shut the door. I didn't care. I peed, and it was great.
Pat had the door open by the time I got out...I suck.
the punch heard around the world.
How I eat with the glory of a glutton.
Leslie's mom is my second mom. check
Taco Bueno, Italian pizza. check
memaw's driving.
bubbles kites and rap music.
the pizza incident. check
getting stuck in the bedroom.
sharing a bed.
slurshies.
jeff.
memaw's driving.
bubbles kites and rap music.
the pizza incident. check
getting stuck in the bedroom.
sharing a bed.
slurshies.
jeff.
Dad motorcycle.
