QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Change The Way You Feel

Change The Way You Feel
By Steve Prince
“I’m pregnant, I’m not dead!”
I love Isabella. Yes, she is 34-years-old. Yes, she is six months pregnant. And yes, she could still party my ass under the table. Now, I’m not talking about white-trash-that-still-smokes-and-drinks-despite-the-baby party. It truly is her energy that is so infectious.
She chalks it up to being Puerto Rican. “My people are dramatic and intense,” she would say and then add, “and a little bit crazy.”
Isabella is a paralegal at the law office I work at a few days a week. She is originally from Chicago, but she fits into Los Angeles flawlessly. You always think she’s wearing the hottest designer clothes, but in actuality she’s wearing the best knock-offs money can buy. Oh and it should be noted that few women love gay men like Isabella. She is a queer dear. She still fondly reminisces about her first gay, Mario, who taught her how to walk in high-heeled shoes during an ice storm in Chicago.
So, I don’t know why when Isabella offered a ticket for me to go see George Michael with her that I asked, “Can you go?”
“Just because I’m pregnant does not mean I don’t want to see the love of my life,” she said, her voice cooing.
“You do know he’s gay, right?” I asked.
“Yes, I know,” she said flatly, “but I would still marry him in a heartbeat. You don’t understand. Wham was my thing and then when he went solo. Oh! George got me through some tough breakups,” she paused as her face fell, “well, breakups with closeted boyfriends.”
“Okay,” she continued, “I have three tickets AND I know who you should ask to come with us.”
I looked at her questioningly.

“Kelly,” she said.
I began to open my mouth for debate.
“No girl,” she said putting her hand in the air, “I’ve been hearing you go on and on about that boy for over two months. It’s time to rip the fucking band-aid. Man up.”
Man up. She’s right. I’ve been beating around the bush with Kelly (or beating off thinking of Kelly). It was time to do something about it. So I did.
Two weeks later, Kelly and I were both on our way to pick up Isabella for the concert.
We both made small talk in the car. It felt a little weird to be honest. When I asked Kelly I didn’t really specify our concert outing as a date. I mean we were going with Isabella, someone whom he had never met. I mean, isn’t a date more one-on-one?
When we arrived at Isabella’s, her husband Daniel greeted us at the door.
“She’s not ready yet,” he said sighing, motioning for us to step in.
It’s Isabella—I knew she would need more time to primp. I had forgotten that Kelly is also from Chicago. Soon Daniel and Kelly were sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, and discussing Chicago, while I sat on Isabella’s bathroom counter while she finished applying her lip liner, lipstick, and then lip gloss.
“Well,” I asked.
“Girl,” she whispered, “he is CUTE!”
“I know,” I said smiling.
“Are you making a move tonight?” she asked.
“I dunno,” I murmured.
“Well, hey,” Isabella said patting her stomach, “you know I’m not drinking tonight, so I’ll get you both ripped and maybe you’ll let your guard down.”
Isabella is a woman of her word. An hour-and-a-half later, I felt way on my way to being buzzed and Kelly’s fair face flushed bright pink in the dim light. I had no idea how much Isabella and Kelly loved George Michael. I mean, I do love the singer, but they LOVE him. With the arrival of each new song, they both whooped with their hands in the air.
I hoped George would sing Kissing a Fool; it’s my favorite. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting George to sing it. It is not super popular, but here’s hoping. “If I hear that song,” I said waving my hands dramatically, “I’m gonna queen the fuck out!”
They both laughed and Kelly gave me a high five. Do you high five someone you’re on a date with? I must say the vibe of the night seemed to be more friendly than interested. I mean, it’s hard to tell with Kelly. I asked Isabella what she thought when Kelly went to the bathroom.
“I’m at a loss,” she said, “I can’t tell what the hell he’s thinking. And does he not drink often?
“No,” I responded surprised, “Kelly drinks a lot more than me actually. Why?”
“Well, he sure is acting drunk then,” Isabella said.
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“I mean,” she paused turning to look up the stairs to make sure Kelly wasn’t coming back, “sometimes guys often act drunk even when they’re not just so they can make an excuse to act a certain way around someone.”
“Huh?” I said cocking my head to the side like a confused puppy. I wanted to know more of what she meant, but my question was halted by Kelly’s arrival. Kelly had brought back a beer for him and me.
The three of us danced and sang. I finished my third beer when the familiar piano intro for Kissing A Fool began to play. As promised, I queened the fuck out. I screamed and jumped up and down.
Suddenly, I felt Kelly grab my left should and he pulled me into a hug. Thinking his hug was only for a moment, I began to let go but he pulled me back. I then realized he was moving back and forth. We were dancing. George began to sing:
You are far,
When I could have been your star,
You listened to people,
Who scared you to death, and from my heart,
Strange that you were strong enough,
To even make a start,
But you’ll never find
Peace of mind,
‘Til you listen to your heart,
My stomach felt warm, but not from the alcohol. As George sang, I laid my head on Kelly’s shoulder and we both swayed to the music while everyone sat in their chairs watching us. I knew I looked like that thirteen year-old-girl at the junior high dance. I fact, that’s how I felt. Something or rather, someone that I had wanted for so long wanted me back. I felt scared and comforted at the same time, but mostly gratitude poured through my body as we hugged. I was grateful the anxiety of not knowing was over.
I breathed deeply, taking in Kelly’s musk. I closed my eyes, content. His body warmth seemed to radiate with mine, both of us hot and sweaty from the night’s concert. As the song played on he held me tighter. I raised my cheek against his while lightly singing along with George:
But remember this,
Every other kiss,
That you ever give
Long as we both live
When you need the hand of another man,
One you really can surrender with,
I will wait for you,
Like I always do,
There’s something there,
That can’t compare with any other,
My spirit seemed to lift out of myself to watch us both. It was the most romantic feeling I have ever experienced in my life. As the song began to end, Kelly pulled back and looked at me and smiled. He leaned towards me and we leaned toward one another, oblivious to the packed stadium surrounding us.
Tenderly, his lips began to dance against mine. As the crowd rose around us to applaud the end of the song, we kissed and kissed, oblivious to the lights, the crowd, and George Michael.
————————————-
Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
————————————-
Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No