it's not gay!

"It's not gay if you throw-up afterwards!!!"

I heard this exclaimed proudly over the sounds of my own retching.

"Get it? Because he knows it's sick!"

We'd been playing a game, of sorts, the entire night. It's not gay if ... you're blind, you high five afterwards or if you kiss him when you're done (because that means you're in love). This game came about mostly because we were mixing boredom with heavy drinking. It was easy to play and could be taken anywhere, kind of like Eye Spy for grown-ups, or at least immature twenty somethings. Of the three of us, Jake was by far the most enthused about the game and even more so with this new insight.

I was throwing up because in those days I was just beginning my habit of drinking 151 from the bottle. Plus, it's not gay if you're drunk. I still wasn't used to my new favorite drink and so I remember throwing up quite a bit for a period of time. Eventually though, 151 and I would reconcile and our relationship would blossom into something more akin to spousal abuse. 151 loved me, but in her own unique way. My abusive spouse would comfort me when I was down, but she would take her time letting me forget about her 'help' the next day. Of course, more often than not she'd still be 'comforting' me the next morning at work so I didn't mind too much.

It's not gay if you never look him in the eyes. Because that means you don't really like him. It came to be that my lady friend, Ms 151, would never look me in the eyes. I remember those days were filled with the dumbest drunken adventures I've ever enjoyed. One night I was drinking 151 until I was blue in the face. Seriously, I almost drown that night and I imagine that Jake would have told me "It's not gay because he's choking." Occasionally the 'it's not gays' wouldn't make much sense, but that didn't matter.

There was another pool incident, separate from the near-drowning, where Ms 151 helped me soak my new phone and ruin a pack of cigarettes and lose a lighter. That same night, if I recall correctly, (because it's not gay if I don't remember it) I walked to the gas station near my house with no shirt on and soaking wet pants. The cashier got mad at me when I decided to pay with wet money. He didn't care that I was dripping on the floor or stumbling around the place.



Ms 151 left quite an impression on me the morning I found myself buying a flask so that I could discretely mix her with my coke at Denny's. One of my best friends worked there, he was gay, and he loved the 'it's not gay...'s. If it made sense, he would have said it's not gay if you're gay. Instead Ms 151 helped me think of that particular expression.

My lovely lady friend, as I said, would stay with me long after I wanted her to leave. She was that kind of girl, 'the wolf' I believe they are called. You know the kind where you'd rather chew off your own arm to rid yourself of her the next morning rather than waking her. Maybe the phrase is 'wolf ugly' but the idea works the same. I thought of her like that because I worked outside. Around 11 every morning I would invariably vomit whatever the contents in my stomach were because the heat and sweat did not co-exist with Ms 151. She expelled them or they her.

I started to realize the destructive aspect of this relationship. It's not gay if you're breaking up with him afterwards. Because, well you're breaking up with him. And so I decided to try and call it quits with the lady. Except she would not go away. The friend of mine that normally bought my alcohol at the time (I wasn't quite old enough to drink yet) forgot about it the next time I sent him to the liquor store. I'm pretty sure he remembered but saw that he could pocket more change if he got that instead of a handle of smirnoff. I wanted to play the field a bit, 151 wasn't having that.

My misadventures tipped off another friend to the glorious underbelly of 151. If you drink enough of it, strange things will happen. I thought after that final hurrah from the 'mistake' above, things would be over. No, that week I shared my lady with this 'friend.' I feel that somehow 151 convinced everyone around me that she was good for me and that they shouldn't listen to what I said. I felt betrayed. People I thought were my friends were only keeping me locked into this liquid destruction. I wasn't about to quit drinking, I just needed some options that I wasn't being given.

Eventually I did break up with Ms 151. Every now and again I let her back in and she still gives me that warm feeling inside. It's different now somehow, I don't see her as much anymore so when I do, I forget how bad she treats me. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all. I guess it's not gay if you miss each other. If that's true, it makes everything all right again.