The boat cruise around the island that is the Big City was, by all accounts, rather interesting to Theo, but not distracting as much as anyone should have anticipated (as most things are when your mind had been engrossed by the one you fancy… I should know, I have over two-thousand images of hot males as my screensaver. Yes, I am with John and his picture is on my desktop but…sometimes you just need to look at something exquisite – like Tyler Davin, Adam C Phebus, Peter Nicholas Hext, Bryan Thomas, James Ellis, Jameson Arasi, Goksun Ergur, Tyson Paige, Ryan Paevey or Tyler Bachtel – look them up – you’ll completely understand what I am talking about… they’re like the hottest guys on in the universe!… seriously stop reading for just a sec and look them up. If you’re a straight girl or a gay man you drool, a straight man you envy them, and a lesbian… well it most likely won’t interest you at all but at least you’ll understand the sort of blokes I majorly fancy).
Ok… so… inspirational fantasy done with… we can get back to the story at hand…
The Big City was founded over four hundred years ago by Province settlers venturing west in search of new fields and adventure. What started as a trading colony developed into the Big City that people see today (and yes, their transportation system was installed from the beginning – the above ground railways turned into monorails, unlike some cities in The Province). The Big City still possesses that intense energy of fluctuation and change… drawing inhabitants to it like bugs to a zapper. Some who venture into the light, so to speak, withstand the intensity, as if the pulse of the Big City mimics their own internal rhythm, while others are simply chewed up and spat out never to return. The Big City is a harsh mistress… you desire the jewels of her heart, but the route will make even the strongest man crumble (except any that I have listed above, they will protect you).
Then again, if one uses their family’s vast amounts of money to buy a building and populate it with friends (and hot male models that bring you muffins every day since you’re their landlord)… you can stave off the impending mistress… that is unless you truly need an ‘outside contractor’ to deal with your in-door plumbing. Don’t get me started on escorts. Personally, I think they rock (well, the ones that aren’t cracked out on who knows what when they show up at your door). The higher end ones that take care of themselves are brilliant. Even I have availed myself of the employment of a professional. There is no drama (hopefully), no weird ‘pleasantries’ afterwards, and if they know what they are doing, can melt even the hardest of hearts and unfold your body like a rose… full willing to extract your pollen… or so I have heard… tee hee!
As the boat docked at Pier Thirty-Five, Theo recovered his mobile from his shorts pocket and tried Hadrian again… against the behest of Betsy and Gregg. The number was still engaged.
Knowing full well that Theo would try again… and again… and again (as you know you would too. Seriously, who the fuck’s phone is engaged? There was intention that passed between the both of you and then their phone is engaged? What The Fuck you douche bag?), Gregg and she spent much of the boat ride devising further activities to divert Theo’s one-track mind.
Taking dinner at the Capitol Building (the sister building to Province Hall in Blue Hollow, if you remember) was always a site to behold, especially if one acquired window seating. Gregg called ahead since he knew the maître d’ who assured him there would be a window table, the best-in-the-house window table, awaiting them when they arrived. Gregg and Antoine (the general manager and maître d’ of the Capitol Club, a very exclusive restaurant consuming the top five floors of the left spire of the Capitol Building) have known each other since they were children, having grow up, like Theo and Betsy, as neighbours (Gregg equals Betsy and Antoine equals Theo)… thus Gregg always obtains a table whenever he calls, also because he gives free coffee to everyone who works there (Arnie doesn’t mind since he also finds himself benefiting from Gregg’s relationship).
“My friend Antoine says there’s a table waiting for us at the Capitol Club. Anyone peckish?” Gregg said as they disembarked.
“The Capitol Club? Back in Blue Hollow we would hear stories about it and there were even pictures in the sister building’s museum. I know a certain gopher who’s getting anything he asks for tonight!” Betsy said trying her damnedest to contain her excitement.
“Gross.” Theo said and giggled a little.
“Now there’s the happy bunny I love. So tonight, when Gregg gets all the figgy pudding from the fridge and then smears it all over…” Betsy, a mate until the end, would to anything to make Theo happy.
“…GROSS! How can you knowingly violate and defile the sanctity of figgy pudding in such a shameful and dishonourable fashion?” Theo retorted, smiling.
“Are we done grizzling about Hadrian?” Betsy asked, nudging him.
“For the time being.” Theo replied. “Though, I will want to obsess about him further later this evening.”
“Indeed. So are we going to cab it, walk it, or mono it to the Club?” Betsy enquired
“Look at you! Talking posh like a member.” Theo playfully pranced about mocking her.
“Oi Mister! At least I’m not pining away for some bloke who can’t even live in the twenty-first century and have a proper phone!” She may have over stepped her mark with this comment.
“At least I don’t need enhancing underwear for the bounty that Mother Nature bestowed upon me!” The last comment did sting Theo a smidge, so retorting with a breast comment would politely demonstrate the feeling.
“Touché, bunnylicious.” Betsy said with a bow.
“Personally I think your bits are fantastic.” Gregg added.
“Why thank you good sir. So I think we should cab it. How long would it take us to walk there anyway?” Betsy asked.
“Well it’s all the way downtown, so walking… about forty-five minutes. I think we should mono it for traffic at this hour on a Saturday night will make cabbing it take even longer.” Gregg looked around for the nearest monorail station. “Look, there’s a Pink Line station and we can transfer to the Blue Line in the Mince and from there about two blocks from the Capitol Building.”
Knowing the monorail was truly the only way to travel in the Big City, Aunt Sheila had purchased Theo and Betsy M-Cards before they arrived. Yes Theo had a car but most people rarely drive in the Big City unless they are leaving it, also that Theo and Betsy work about five blocks from their flat, so driving would be a pointless waste of petrol.
As I said before, the monorail was red and lines painted on the sides of each car distinguishing the route. From anywhere, one only has to look up and know which line to take simply based on colour stripe. There was the Blue Line, also known as the Straight Train for two reasons, it ran the length of the Big City, as a sort of central line, from the most northern point to downtown, and two, carried the Stock-Jockies (mostly heterosexuals) to the Exchange and other officey typey stuff. The Orange line, which started near the middle and ran into the outlying areas to the west and the Green line, the same but to the east. A brown line (also know at the Shite line) ran from downtown to the outlying south, where there was a failed attempt at a gentrified community that turned into a drug and gang filled hell-hole (they do have the best greasy food though). And best of all, the newest line was the Pink line which ran the around the outside of the island in two circles (in the shape of a figure eight) and ended up at the centre of The Mince. Thus, the Pink line from day one was known as the Gay train (like a pink tongue circling each side of the hole before returning to The Mince). All routes, except for the Shite line meet and cross in The Mince (the Mince was at the centre of the island… as is with everything Gay – the centre of it ALL!).
Also, as I have said before, everyone is accepted in The Province. Gay’s have had marriage rights since it began (Pervical Rabbit’s brother was gay), for no one ever saw any problem with any of it. Live and let live and celebrate everyone’s lifestyle, was the general motto held dear in everyone’s heart… all species were created equal. You wish to be respected for who you were, so one respects others for who they are. Yes, there is crime and the usual deviant excursions one finds in a large metropolis (theft, murder, prostitution, fudge), but there are no wars (who in their right mind would go up against an armed forced compiled entirely of angry lesbian badgers? No one!). And like Oregon, who elected the first transgender person to a government office (I don’t remember which office but KUDOS Oregon!!!), The mayor of the Big City is also transgender (she won by a landslide vote). All in all, The Province was a brilliant place to grow up no matter which part you reside (except the south).
Per usual with the Pink and Blue lines, there was a queue. Betsy and Theo joined the nearest queue since they had M-Cards (that’s twice I have used that… I hope by now you have an idea what I am talking about… if not just take off your clothes until you understand). Gregg nipped over to the ticket machine and paid for a two-trip ticket. The queue was about thirty people long and since all monorails have five carriages to each train and about fifty seats per carriage, they knew they would get a seat… but like everyone, the three of them desired window seating.
The monorail was about sixty feet up so the views, especially from the Pink Line when it’s on the outside of the island were extraordinary. On sunny days many people just ride the Pink Line for entertainment… bring snacks and ride it with their friends for hours. Also, the people watching is phenomenal.
“So you’re friend’s reserved us window seating?” Betsy asked as the queue moved and they got into the carriage. “Yes, a window seat!” She said as she rushed for the front corner seat.
“Yeah, there are always a few proper tables on reserve for friends or celebrities should they show up.” Gregg replied and the Pink Line pulled away from the station towards the Mince.
“Might we see those birds from that Shag and the City show?” Theo asked excitedly. The highest ratings for that show came from the gays and gals… and yes a lot of straighties watched as well but would never admit it (because they wish to know what we’re up to with their ladies… or how to be better men).
“We just might my gay bunny mate.” Gregg replied with a chuckle.
Rushing past buildings, the outside became a colourful blur. The ceilings and walls of every carriage were glass, steel beams about every ten feet kept it all together, so at night one could lay back and see the stars. As the Pink Line came in the Mince station, Gregg looked up at the schedule for the Blue Line.
“Perfect, there’s a Blue in about a minute. We timed this perfectly.” Gregg said as they alighted onto the station platform.
The Blue Line ran down the east side of Kelly Street Park (Theo and Betsy live just south on the west side) so you could look over and see people sunning themselves, playing footy, cruising for sex, swimming in the man-made lake… cruising for more sex (what is it with gays and parks and sex and gays and fudge?)
“This is Baker Street. Alight here for the Capitol Building and Exchange. Please mind the gap.” The posh female voice (that sounded a bit like Kate Winslet – who, if I may say so, is a particularly astonishing human being… and not a little bit breathtaking).
“Why thank you, ephemeral Kate Winslet sounding female voice.” Betsy said to the carriage.
Both Theo and Gregg chortled.
“What?” Betsy rejoined as she rolled her eyes. “Whatever Kate tells me to do, I do it.”
The two-block walk to the Capitol Building was refreshing. The evening air was filled with the sounds of Saturday in the Big City – people, cars, revellers on their way to clubs, or pubs, or any sort of establishment that will greatly aid in their weekend enjoyment (i.e. bevies, sex, and fudge). Granted, downtown was far less hopping than say Kelly Street Park district or The Mince… but it was still early enough to where most of the people would make their way northward… like celebratory nomads in search of the next lager.
Theo tried Hadrian once again. In his mind, he had resolved himself to the thought that maybe this wasn’t supposed to be. Hadrian was a fantastic idea that would never come to fruition. You all know that one don’t you! Meet a hottie, exchange phone numbers, then nothing. So much energy passes between you two and you’re left there wondering what happened? Kind of like the road-runner cartoons of old. The coyote was always just left in the dust (he did however had an odd fixation of killing said road-runner, but I’m not going there – it’s not the murder thing, it’s just the endless obsession with the coyote trying to kill said road-runner and whose plans invariably fail… after the first few times, one in their right mind would have given up said pursuit for more fruitful endeavours).
You think to you yourself, what happened? There was definite interest… so why the fizzle? On most occasions you can sum it up with two frighteningly easy conclusions. One – gays are the whingingest people on earth… trust me they are. They whine and whine about wanting a boyfriend and how no one ever wants to get to know them, then someone steps up to the plate and they freak out because OH MY GOD this just became a reality, so they make a scene and stomp off like WHINEY FUCKWIT PUSSIES! And two – gays are whores, and said guy found the next best thing and moved on from you. The first time there is a sting but over time (as written by Christopher Hampton, based upon the book Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos, and said by Glenn Close in the amazing film, Dangerous Liaisons), “the shame is like the pain, you only feel it once.”
Theo took a deep breath before hitting the redial button. Half of his mind was riddled with thoughts that this was never meant to be and the other with hope that it will be everything he wishes for (you know you think like that as well when the one you fancy is concerned… don’t lie). It took a second for the call to engage with the carrier and in that brief second there was a click. Theo assumed that was yet another busy signal.
“Well I am impressed, you held off for the entire mono ride. Verdict?” Betsy said in a consoling tone.
Theo sighed as he dropped his arm with the phone in it. “Engaged. I’m giving up. Let’s go eat.” The forlorn quality in his voice was ripe with a depressing stench.
“I’m sorry Theo. I thought he was different.” Betsy said and hugged him.
Theo turned his phone off and placed it back in his pocket. “The Capitol Club awaits!” He said trying to smile. “I’m sorry for ruining your day.”
“No worries mate. We have all been right where you are on many occasion.” Gregg said and with that gave him a hug as well… a rather snug hug.
“Blimey, nice weapon of yours. I can see why Betsy likes you!” Theo said with a devilish smile. The first time all day he has felt like himself.
“Oi! Cheeky Bastard! And that’s the only feel you evah gon’ get!” Betsy smugly retorted.
The elevator ride up to the Capitol club was rife with giggles and innuendo. Theo was back to his root personality and they were going to have dinner at one of the poshest restaurants in town.
Life was good!
After about four and a half hours of dinner and giggles, they left the Capitol Club to find what further trouble awaited them.
“So what now?” Theo asked.
“Bloody hell, I just remembered. In all your whinging I forgot to find shoes and we need to choreograph a routine. I say we head home straight away and figure out the routine and shop for shoes first thing in the morning.” Betsy said as the impending deadline began seriously stressing her out.
“Can we stop for ice cream first?” Theo asked.
It is universally known that the stopping for and eating of ice cream solves every problem known to exist. Your lover cheats on you – ice cream, your parents cut you off – ice cream, your brother gets into a car wreck because he was pissed and ends up killing an entire family, including the boy you fancied, in the process – a lesson learned about drinking and driving and ice cream. Milk and sugar and some cream and love have never tasted so good than when mixed together and smeared all over your lovers…
Sorry, digressing there. Last night John and I… well I think you get the picture.
“I know this fantastic shop in the Mince called Molly Moons (an actual place, the BEST ice cream in Seattle if you find yourself there on vacation. Two shops – Capitol Hill and Wallingford. Yes, shameless promotion, but trust me, you don’t know what ice cream is until you’ve had Molly Moons ice cream!!!).
“Don’t they have that balsamic vinegar and strawberry flavour?” Betsy asked.
“Yes, and salted caramel, pomegranate-curry, honey-lavender… seriously the best ice cream in the whole of creation.” Gregg replied already salivating with the thought of going there.
“Fine! We can’t linger but we can stop there.” Betsy said in a motherly tone.
Theo and Gregg jumped up and down like children finally allowed to stop their chores and play outside with their mates in the sprinklers (in that totally gay way you did as kid when you were re-enacting that scene from that awesome movie – Flashdance – trying to impress the neighbour boy only to find out later in life that he really fancied your sister and was using you to get to her… see, all men, no matter what derivation, are bastards… but you still did look like hot jail-bate in that sprinkler… so fuck him!).
“Bloody children, you lot!” Betsy said giggling as they walked back to the Blue Line station.
Seeing as it was Saturday night, the Mince was overflowing with gays and their fag-hags. On the weekends, most pubs, clubs, restaurants and other bits and bobs stay open twenty-four/seven. They open late on Friday around eleven for lunch and close around three AM on Sunday night (or rather Monday morning). One can buy last minute club attire, or sex accoutrement, go clubbing then hang out at a diner until brunch the next day. Often in the summer, Kelly Street Park (which is just on the edge of the Mince) holds a summer concert series and festivals that tend to blend between Kelly Street Park district and the Mince, especially on the street where Theo and Betsy reside. So, having a street side flat with a rooftop terrace is going to prove mighty handy come festival time.
“Ok, so now that we’re back on Faglandian soil, where is this place?” Betsy asked already going over choreographic ideas in her head.
“It’s just a few blocks up the street.” Gregg replied.
The main boulevard of the Mince is Fox Street, mainly referred to as just Fox. One would never say ‘I’m going to that place on Fox Street for dinner,” they would say, “I’m Foxing tonight for dinner, know any good places?” Like the f-word, Fox can be used as every denomination of word in a sentence. For instance, “Mate, I Foxed last night, bloody hell am I sore,” or, “You’re all a bunch of Foxes (derogatory and meant that you’re a pipe smoker… and for the idiots that don’t even get that one… it means you suck cock like a bitch).” Everybody parties in the Mince on the weekends, and during the week if you’re jobless or work in the evenings (probably as an escort or barista)… or an alcoholic, Fox Street is the place to be. Some of the best diners, clubs, shops and reverie reside here, mainly due to its proximity to Kelly Street Park but also that the central mono-station is just up Fox – every train comes through here… plus it’s universally known that gays now how to have a good time far better than most straight people. Yes you have footy and beer and tits… but where do you go for clubbing and music and to find better tits – US!
There is always a line out the door for Molly Moons, no matter what time of year it is.
“We walked by here the other day and wondered what the line was about.” Betsy said now realising.
“You’re in for a treat. They will let you try any flavour and you can also have take-away.” Gregg said excitedly.
“Perfect. Let’s get a few pints and head back to the flat.” Betsy declared.
“Hottie at two o’clock.” Theo said not really paying attention to anything either of them were saying.
Um, a gay in the Mince is not really going to care about ice cream… that is unless one is using it as a luring tool to acquire said hottie for sexual interactions. But, I might add, NEVER… and I must stress the Never part… use Molly Moons ice cream in conjunction with stuff a certain book deems sinful… Molly Moons is sacred… SACRED – unlike your soul!
“A perfect rebound for your non-relationship with Hadrian.” Betsy said realising that it might have been too soon for a Hadrian comment.
Theo sighed. “Well, the horse will run away if I don’t get back on it.” Theo said bucking up.
“Spoken like a true bottom!” Gregg replied with a giggle.
“Yeah well, at least I use all parts of my body for pleasure and don’t nix one based on my insecurity about being a true man!” Theo raised his eyebrows with that retort.
“Who say he doesn’t?” Not to be left behind, Betsy joined in the sarcastic festivities.
“Really now… interesting.” Theo said as they joined the queue for ice cream.
The scent of freshly made waffle cones and ice cream teased every hair on their bodies. If Heaven truly did exist on earth, it would be Molly Moons. From the recycled building materials, to the bio-degradable dishes and spoons… I pray at the alter of ice cream every day. The line is always out the door and unlike most banks, they have more than one inept person behind the counter – they have seven intensely competent ice cream scholars ready to assist you in your life choice. I know I am going on and on about this but I seriously can’t stress how wonderful an experience it is.
The line moved fast since there was a huge black-board that listed all their flavours for the day so waiting in line you have the time to ponder, work out a strategy of which ones you wish to taste and then what topping you would like to add. Thus, by the time anyone reaches the ice cream teller, most decent people have it all worked out. There is however usually one person who doesn’t even know what ice cream is (like writing a cheque in the express lane at the grocers and not retrieving your cheque book until after the clerk has rung everything up and then they can’t seem to find it in their huge fucking knock-off bag… this is where having a gun comes in handy… point and click interface has never retrieved faster results).
“Right, so we get the ice cream for take away but there is still about ten blocks to our flat. I say we hail a taxi so nothing has any time to melt.” Betsy, though a fly-by-the-seat-of-pants kind gal, in a pinch she is one of the most successful planners around. It’s like her mind clears and she works everything out in a flash. Most times her mind is just running on full with useless bits of information (like my brother).
Ice cream in hand, Betsy rushed out onto the pavement and began yelling for a taxi, almost knocking over a gaggle of drag parrots.
“My apologies ladies. Ice cream in hand, needing a taxi!” She said as she bowed to them.
“Ice cream? Girlfriend, let us help you!” One of the drag parrots said with a snap in Z-formation. “OI TAXI!” She yelled is a voice as deep at the ocean.
The taxi had stopped in front of them before she even finished the word taxi.
“I’m impressed. I certainly hope I run into you the next time I need something tout de suite.” Betsy said as she went to shake her hand but in turn kissed the back of it.
“Such nice manners for a spunky beaver.” One of the drag parrots said with a smile.
And with that the drag parrots continued their frivolity.
Gregg and Theo exited the shop just as Betsy was getting into the taxi and they joined her. Riding the ten blocks home was faster than they had anticipated for a Saturday night and in no time they were back in their flat devouring the ice cream.
“Right, so I have come up with many ideas and I am just going to act all of them out and you two tell me which ones to keep and what to bin.” Betsy said capping her pint of ice cream and placing it back in the freezer.
“I know something you can toss.” Theo said to Gregg in what he thought was a whisper.
“I heard that, you minger.” She said as she returned from the kitchen. “So what can I use for a pole? And no penis jokes… this is serious!” She sternly relayed.
Theo and Gregg giggled. “You’re taking this far too seriously. Most of the people who perform are utterly dreadful so for you to simply walk onstage is a point in your direction.” Gregg said as Theo looked around the flat for something pole-like.
“How about the broom?” Theo asked from the hallway closet.
“It’s going to have to do. I wonder if I will get any rehearsal time in the space before hand?” Betsy said as she disrobed and put on the kit she purchased earlier today from the underwear store.
“Time in the space? This isn’t Broadway. And why are you wearing that?” Gregg asked.
“I have to get into character and wearing this I will be able to figure out what works with this outfit and where I might need to adjust. Theo get me a pair of pumps from my closet.” Betsy said already twirling around.
“Uh, what do you want me to do with the broom?” Theo asked at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Up your bum, now get my shoes.” Betsy was now using the couch as a prop.
“I don’t think they are going to have couches on the stage… again, not Broadway.” Gregg said.
“If you’re not going to help me than bloody shut-up.” She tersely said.
“Calm down Chairman Beaver!” Gregg said no longer enjoying what would have been an eventful evening.
Theo returned from her bedroom with a pair of tan pumps (they kind your grandma wears). “These were all I could find. Your room was a mess and I felt that I would get lost in an alternate universe if I stayed any longer.” Theo said with a giggle.
“RIGHT! You two can fucking sod off. I will do this myself.” Betsy said grabbing the shoes and marching back to her bedroom to find a better pair.
“Sweet, I think that’s our cue we can leave.” Theo said as he grabbed his keys and open the front door. “Have fun now, don’t break anything.” He yelled sarcastically up the hallway.
“Should we really leave?” Gregg asked concered.
“Look mate, I have known her my whole life and realised that when she’s on a mission it’s best to just step out of the way and let her be crazy. Less damage will occur for both parties. So let’s just head out to a diner or something and let her do her thing and cool down a bit.” Theo said with the weight of history under his breath.
“Well, it’s on you if she hates me.” Gregg said as they left the flat.
The house to herself, Betsy was now free to move about the cabin… unhindered by bitchy seatbelts. She pushed all the couches and tables out of the way and the living room became her stage. Yes, she used the broom for a makeshift pole since she couldn’t really nip out to the hardware store, find a pole, bring it home and install it… at twenty-forty-six PM. This realisation pissed her off just a bit more and she danced like she’s never danced before!
“Sod those two. I will show them how a real stripper should be!” She said to herself as sweat flung from her forehead.
Kelly Street, just a few blocks south of the flat, was packed with weekenders filling ever inch of the street. The shops were open and Gregg and Theo nipped into the underwear… again.
Gregg held up a bright pink thong and asked Theo, “do you guys really wear these?”
“I don’t, too much chaffing, why some people do is beyond me.” He replied perusing the boxer briefs. “So I haven’t really explored Kelly Street south of our flat… any good shops?”
“Mostly restaurants until you hit the Garment district about six blocks south of here. Why, something in particular you’re interested in seeing?” Gregg asked.
“Don’t know. You know this city better than I do… show me something interesting.” Theo said with a few pairs of underwear in his hands (because you can never have enough).
“Right, let’s pay for this kit and go find adventure!” Gregg robustly declared as they wandered up to the cashier.
Adventure did find them… but that I shall save for the next instalment…