Thursday, June 24, 2010


It seems all my coupled friends are dying to play matchmaker to all their dolo friends. I don't quite understand it when it pertains to my network, though. I have no problem meeting guys, but because there's love behind the intentions, I welcome it, and since I'm the best when it comes to first dates, I am all for the fun friend hook up. At worst, I get a free meal. At best...well...

A week ago, I went to brunch with two of my favorite gays: Adam and Nasir. Live-in boyfriends for just over a year, these two are a major crack up. I love being around them and our brunches always turn into long walks on the Upper East Side and drinks in Soho. That's exactly what happened last weekend and it was over our second round of margaritas that Nasir grinned like a dog with a bone, leaned into me and said, "Honey, I've got the best guy to hook you up with." I rolled my eyes, took a giant sip of my margarita and said, "Ok, tell me about him." I knew it was easier this way. Fighting off Adam and Nasir was like getting Aretha on a diet, pointless. Nasir clapped happily and started rambling off adjectives to describe his cousin, Slim. I hate dudes with nicknames. No, let me rephrase that, I hate dudes who actually use those nicknames instead of their real ones. The only people who can claim said nicknames are Jay, 50, Diddy, Big, and the like. Not Day-day instead of Mark. So I stopped Nasir and said, "What's his real name, like the one my neighbors would know?" He told me it was Justin. Thanks, that's better. Wasn't crazy about the name (first heart break was a Justin), but onward Nasir went. He was apparently fine, had a great body, and was funny. We took a look at Justin's Facebook pics on Nasir's iPhone and he wasn't lying. Dude was definitely a cutie, and definitely in the gym like crazy. In a good way. I was gearing up to ask what he did for a living when Adam, who was co-signing all the aforementioned traits, started making the universal gesture for "hell no." I stopped Nasir who was still praising Justin vehemently and asked Adam what all the bobble-headness was about. Adam turned to Nasir and said, "Sorry, Nasir, but Justin is dumb as a box of rocks. Seriously, honey. He may be fine and have a dope body, but you can't talk to him. Just go ahead and f*ck him, but that's it." Nasir immediately tried to clean it up, but then acquiesced with, "Ok, fine, he isn't that smart, but he's a really nice guy!" I laughed at the two of them, toying with the idea of Justin playing the part of my new buddy in my upcoming production of Cut (you'll get that in a second). But then Nasir said, "Okay, there's one other thing." Oh here we go, this is where it gets good, I thought. There's always something. Justin couldn't be that amazing, despite being dumb as a doornail, and be cool with being set up essentially.

Nasir hemmed and hawed and finally mumbled, "He just got out of jail."


"He was in jail for three years, but wait, wait! The only reason he went was because the judge made an example of him. He had no prior record and then got caught with a gun," Nasir rambled trying to change my already set mind, defending his cousin who of course wasn't really at fault for carrying an illegal firearm. Obviously, it was the judge's fault, Slim, duh. And no wonder he had the body of a Greek god. Prison workouts do wonders.

"Nasir, babe, I appreciate the attempt, but it's not happening. I don't do jailbirds." Nasir immediately copped an attitude, claiming it was wrong to judge people, that Justin was a good man despite having a record and he thought I was different than those uppity broads.

"No, no, hold on. Let me tell you why I don't do jailbirds, cause I literally cannot. He was in jail for three years. You can't tell me he went three years without any ass whatsoever. No head, no nothing! I can't do it, I'd always be thinking he boned his bunk buddy on the low."

For a moment, Nasir and Adam weren't sure if I was being for real. Then they cracked up. Nasir never disputed my theory and Justin was never brought up again. How you doin?

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

No comments:

Post a Comment