Wednesday, March 2, 2011

You can have your Cupcake and eat it too...

I have three major weaknesses: homemade chocolate chip cookies, chocolate cupcakes with chocolate butter cream frosting and getting into situations which leave me befuddled. The latter bring me to my knees.  Of course there are other weaknesses that bring me to my knees but we will let those rest.
On what could be described as any bland day, I received an email from my fellow “Pecster” Shawn announcing the performance of the “Connecticut Gay Men’s Chorus”. My penchant for new experiences was at an all time high and I rapidly responded, “yes”.  Admittedly I was a self proclaimed “chorus virgin” but a night of fun and frolic with my troop of friends was always something to look forward to.
One thing I’d not planned on was being overwhelmingly busy the week prior with dinner commitments and business seminars everyday.  By the time the weekend arrived I was longing for my blanket and a good nights’ sleep.  To top things off it was the weekend in April when we "leap forward" so in addition to being exhausted I would lose one hour of sleep.  As usual the world seemed to be turning not in my favor.
    Plans were cast and the night began with dinner at CafĂ© Adulis, an Eritrean and Mediterranean restaurant in New Haven.  New horizons were abounding for me on multiple levels. I’d often wanted to test the food at Adulis but never found my way there while in my relationship with Robert.
 The space was brilliant. With exposed brick walls and tables packed upon one another the crowd could easily mingle. There was a bar packed with patrons drinking and enjoying appetizers and an outdoor courtyard for summer dining.  The food was intricate with its piquant flavors, mint, lime, tomato, and a multitude of earthy spices bursting with every bite. 
At last it was time for the concert.  Having never been to one of the Gay Men’s Chorus performances I had no clue as to what to expect.  In my mind I envisioned multiple drag shows and extraordinarily effeminate men being sharp witted on the stage.  I also surmised it would be “the place” to be seen.  I wondered, “Should I pop a pill for my anxiety before leaving the house?”  No, that would make me all the more tired.
The cast was a mixed bag. Many were stocky, some were well into their sixties and over while others were exactly what I expected.  I immediately took a liking to one cast member in particular.  There was a segment where three guys came out as construction workers and strip down to their jock straps while carrying their individual “tools”.  The beefy boy I was enamored with moved as he should, with sex appeal that was palpable. 
Once the lights dimmed I knew my bed just one step closer.  The show was amusing; there were jokes about the current Bush administration and a tribute to the men and women of the military, primarily the veterans of World War II.  When all was said and done the lights went on, the audience applauded ferociously and we made our way to the lobby and outdoors.
My group was beginning to roll and wanted to head out to some local clubs.  Without wanting to seem like a bore and unadventursome, I made my way to Tommy and said goodnight.
“I’m afraid I have to leave.  I have somewhere else to go.” It wasn’t a lie since I was already late for an appointment with my bed.
  Like the game “telephone”, by the time I said goodbye to the last of the group, my story had evolved into me being on my way to hook up with someone for the night. It was a conundrum; do I come clean and fess up or act the stud and play the part? I acted the stud; if they only knew the truth.
On the way to my car there was a passionate romance brewing.  As I approached Starbucks, there before me in the lighted case was a glorious sight; a luscious chocolate cupcake topped with chocolate frosting.  I had found my date.  Paired with a tall “Tazo Chai latte” I was in heaven.
Two days later, at the gym, I ran into J-la.  He was all about the questions.
“Did you go home or did you really have a date?”
“I picked up a little cupcake and went back to my house.” It wasn't a lie afterall.
“Get out! Really, you did?”  His voice went up with excitement.
“I swear.”  My creative mind was beginning a surge; maybe I would go the distance just for some great writing material and J-la is a live wire.
 “Chocolate, if you catch my drift.  Delicious.”   Clearly I was telling the truth; so what if he thought I’d picked up a hot African American guy?
“Wow, that’s great!” Taking his hand he high- fived me.
As I made my way home from the gym I thought about my passion for sweets and the conundrum of my life.  On one hand I long to be a stud, on the other I am a home body.  Dessert has always been a thorn in my side. I want the abs of a model but not at the risk of never tasting a cookie or cupcake again; the thought leaves me in a state of sugar sadness.
More than anything I found another puzzle fascinating.  This wasn’t the first time I’d been completely honest and misinterpreted. When someone wants to hear a better story there is ability for us to interpret it within our own terms.  On occasion I have actually fabricated the elements of my life in order to see if I am more believable. 
Once I told my friend Jimmy I’d been home, sitting alone watching television on a Saturday night.
“Come on, this is me you’re talking to remember?”  His tone was fraught with disbelief.
“I’m serious, that’s what I did.”
“Ok, whatever.”  I had to go the distance to satisfy him.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a pig.  Yes, I went out to the bar and picked up a guy.  Are you happy?”  I was lying through my teeth.  “His name is Rich and he was hot, so hot we did it three times.”
“I knew it.”  His appetite was satiated.
I can’t quite figure out why the larger the lie the better the perception.  Was I guilty of wanting everyone to think I was having a better time than I actually was?  What would have been so bad about simply telling everyone I was exhausted and needed to go home for a rest?
Here’s the deal.  Would the “old Keith”, by having told the truth, rise to the surface and feel less than adequate?  By telling the truth, with its perception, I achieved more than I’d hoped for.  I got exactly what I wanted; a laugh, the appearance of being a stud and even better, a chapter. I scored all around and learned a great lesson: always tell the truth for you can have your cupcake and eat it too.

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