Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Everybody Get Dirrrty

Wow - some of you actually want to know what happened next. Well...

A couple days after the wild night of go-go dancing, I got a phone call from Cowboy Todd. The message went something like this: "Hey sexy lady, sexy Mo... It's Todd, the cowboy you met at Rimjob the other night. I was just on my way to the gym to work on my thighs, calves and ass and I thought I'd give you a call and tell you how sexy you are, sexy lady! Hope you're having a great day, and give me a call back."

Really. That's what he said. I played the message for my roommate and she would say "Hey, sexy lady!" everytime I walked down the hallway for the rest of the weekend.

The next day he called again. "Hey, sexy Mo! It's Todd calling. I was just off to crack out my abs so I thought I'd call and say hi. I'm working at a place called Fubar's tonight, so try to come by if you can."

Yes, he said the phrase, "Crack out my abs."

I told a friend of mine about this. "Fubar's?" she said. "That's a total scenester gay place. I feel invisible when I go there." So I called Cowboy Todd back. "Hey, what's up?" "Oh, hi! What's goin' on?" Me: "You're working at Fubar's tonight? I'll try to grab some friends and cruise out. It's cool if girls come, right?" "Oh, totally. It's my last night for a while - I wrecked my car and I'm going to New York for a couple days and then to Florida to visit my family for my birthday because I didn't see them at Christmas." Me: " When's your birthday?" Todd: "February11th." Me: "Hey, that's the same as my baby brother!" Todd: "Wow, I've never known anyone born on my birthday!" Me: "Well, you still don't, you don't know my brother. But you can say you do if you want. Hey, I'm at work - I'll try to swing by tonight." "Cool - I'll get you all a free drink!" My friend & I tried to wrangle up a boy posse, but everyone had plans.

I haven't spoken to him since, but that doesn't mean I haven't heard from ole Cowboy Todd.

That Sunday, before he left town, he gave me a call detailing his visit to his doctor's office to collect his medicine for his hyperactivity, and to let me know he was bartending (shirtless!) at Skin Sundays, a gay day at Highland Grounds - a bar/cafe I thought was a singer/songwriter type place. Turns out it usually is, except for Skin Sundays.

The night of the Grammys as I drove to the BFF's house, I was treated to something special. A picture. On my cell phone. Of Cowboy Todd, shirtless, flexing with his arms behind his head, in front of a fridge covered in colorful alphabet magnets. This almost made me crash my car (DON'T CHECK YOUR TEXTS WHILE DRIVING - DUH!). I showed it to BFF, who started laughing immediately, but said, "Come on, he's hot! I can't believe you don't want to hook up with him." "What? Ick! He's all flexy and stuff!" "Well," BFF retorted, "I think you've been staring at (insert name of slightly overweight-chainsmoking-brilliant musician that I've been involved with for months here) flabby ass for too long and could use a little something different." "Oh," I said in my defense, "You know that if this guy had been calling me up and telling me jokes instead of his gym schedule that I'd be all over it. Really." "Okay, okay..." BFF gave up.

"So what do I do? Should I write back?" "Didn't he say he was in Florida with his parents?" "Yea." "Well, write back: Wow, your mom is a great photographer!" So that's what I did. My BFF is so clever, isn't he?

A few hours later (midnightish my time, so 3amish in Florida), I get a text back. "Can you send me a picture? It gets lonely in Florida..." Then another: "A dirty picture." (Of course.) Then another: "I'll send you one of me." So I turned off my phone. The next morning once I turned it back on, he had texted: "Give me a call or text when you have a chance." So I responded: "Hey, I don't just send out pictures to people I don't know. Have a good vacation." And he texted back: "Sorry, seemed like a good idea at the time."

Was this the end of it? NO!

Although nothing has been as entertaining as the initial messages, I have received a picture of him in bed gazing longingly at the camera, looking cutesy holding a bunch of flowers in front of his face (Valentine's Day), and one of him just looking into the camera on the place. Occasional messages about where he's working, will I meet him & his friends for dinner, bring lots of gay friends, etc... If I ever do meet up with this guy, it's purely because I want to ask him:

1. Are you gay?
2. Okay then, you must be bi...
3. Do you keep pictures of yourself on your phone to just send out to all the phone numbers you've collected at your various gigs?
4. Who takes these pictures of you?
5. What do you want to be: model or actor?
6. Why do you go-go dance at all these gay places if you aren't totally gay?
7. Are you a total gigolo or what?
8. How many drugs do you take?

I think that's the bulk of it. A friend of mine once wisely said never date a guy who waxes more places than you do. I tend to go for the ones that make me laugh - and if they happen to have six pack abs, then that's just lucky.