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Someone New To Play With

After I left Mr. BigNews, I had planned to move in with Slick. The plans were set, dates were agreed upon, and I found new renters for the house and told the landlord I�d be out in two weeks.

The very next morning, Slick chose to tell me that I couldn�t move in with him because he�s allergic to cats. Somehow this failed to come up in all the time that we�d been planning, even though I had told him that I had two very furry critters. He still won�t admit it to this day, but I�m convinced his sudden change of heart had nothing to do with cats, but he had a freak out moment because he suddenly realized he was going to be living with a gay man. I don�t really blame him, if I were straight I probably wouldn�t want a gay guy living in my one bedroom apartment either.

I had only been in NJ and at this job for a few months, and suddenly I was panicked. I had no idea where to live, as NJ tends to be either gross and dangerous, or lovely and ridiculously overpriced. So I went into one of the consultants offices at work, in a full homosexual episode, and explained in a feverish pitch, �I just sublet my house and I have to be out in two weeks and I lined up a new place to live but he just pulled out of the deal and now I have nowhere to live and I don�t know what I�m going to do�� All three of the people in the room immediately offered to let me live with them. Not because they had any affection for me, but probably just because I was scaring them and they were desperate to make me to stop rambling. I was amazed, as I hardly knew these people, and they were all in their 40�s and 50�s with spouses and mortgages. Not the typical people you�d expect to say, �Yeah, come sleep on my floor. We can stay up late and watch movies and party � it�ll be great.�

Although I really didn�t want to, I ended up taking one of them up on her offer, as I didn�t have any more appealing options. I hate feeling like a freeloader, so I only moved in with Madison under the conditions that I pay rent, and I move out as soon as I can find my own place. The first time I saw my new home was when I pulled up in the U-haul. It was a palace! The house was huge, situated on a picturesque hill overlooking a valley and a ski resort in the distance. I was in love, even before I saw my quarters, which consisted of a large bedroom, two walk-in closets, a double sink bathroom, and a sliding glass door with a view that stepped out into the hot tub on the 2nd story deck. �If I�d known this was waiting for me, I would have left that bastard a long time ago,� I thought. Not only did I suddenly realize that the prearranged rent wasn�t enough to pay for the light bulbs in this place, but I was already planning on taking a great deal more time to find my next place to live. Freeloader, shmeeloader.

Then I met the Husband. Madison had told me that when discussing giving me a place to stay he said, �Yeah, cool. I�ll have someone new to play with.�

He was this attractive guy with graying hair and big muscles he liked to show off with sleeveless shirts, but his most noticeable quality was his endless, bounding energy. When he told me he worked as a gymnastics coach, it only made sense as I was already anticipating that he�d start doing flips across the living room at any second, even before I knew anything of his profession. He talked at a mile a minute, and seemed to have an entirely different and unrelated thought every few seconds. It was like talking to a speed addict after an all-day coffee binge.

My first night in the house, the Husband had convinced me to play video games with him on the big screen TV, which we did until long after Madison had gone to bed. I like to go to bed pretty early given my work schedule, but a mixture of politeness and a sense of childish guilty pleasure made me stay up way past my bedtime. His patience with each game ran out about as fast as his patience for each topic of conversation, and he�d often switch the game I was in the middle of playing without notice, all while speaking so fast I couldn�t understand a word of it.

Suddenly, he left the room mumbling and returned with an armload of fireworks and a gigantic smile on his face. We headed out to the road and he lit off fireworks that would have put my hometown�s entire Fourth of July celebration to shame. We stared up into the sky and oohed and aahed at the display, giggling with excitement but cringing at the loud booming noises as we watched lights turn on in each of the neighbors� houses. As the last spark fizzled and the booms faded into the distance, we turned and saw Madison standing at the front porch in her slippers and bathrobe. �What in the hell are you doing?� She asked. �Don�t you realize that people work in this neighborhood, they could be calling the police right now, don�t you realize that?�

We both studied our feet and shrugged our shoulders, afraid to make eye contact with each other because we knew we�d start giggling again. We had nothing to say for ourselves, so we filed into the house, past Madison, and into our rooms, to spend some time thinking about what we�d done.