-Christopher Bram
SURPRISING MYSELF
The Beginnings – Part 40: HISTORY
June 11, 1983
This morning I made some peanut butter and jelly on toast. The only problem was that I found the milk in my refrigerator to be spoiled. The date had expired on the carton. Yuck!
Frank telephoned at around 11AM and asked, “Could you pick me up around one o’clock so I can come to lay out by the pool?”
“Okay,” I replied.
In the meantime, I added fuel to my car and cruised over to Alameda for my towels and pants that I had left there. My dear mom had washed and ironed the pants.
By the time I returned to San Leandro it was 1PM so I called Frank, “I just got home. I’ll be over to pick you up soon.”
I had to drive to Hayward. It wasn’t far and I chose to drive along Mission Boulevard because I didn’t feel like dealing with the congestion of cars on the freeway.
Frank and I did lay out by the pool. We had fun. It was especially amusing when I threw his socks into the pool. I’m trying to get him to stop using the phrases “Oh God!” and “Bad”. It’s such teen slang. There are so many other ways one can express, using brilliant words.
Eventually we returned to my apartment and my dear friend ‘came’ on me again as we lay atop of each other on my living room floor. We followed that with an exquisite, tasteful, soapy, sensual shower; whereby, I ‘came’. It was very, very nice. I guess he thought so, too, because he suggested another shower tomorrow evening.
After our shower and his lengthy study of the perfect look for his hair we left for Alameda’s CHEF ROMANO PIZZA for a sausage and pepperoni pizza. Frank’s eyes lit up at the idea of pepperoni. I don’t particularly like pepperoni but I knew it would please him.
When we returned to San Leandro Frank used my phone to call his friend, Shawn, about borrowing some of his clothes.
I drove Frank to the home of his HISTORY teacher (who happens to be gay).
Frank said, “I might move-in with my HISTORY teacher. He’s ‘Bad’.”
Bad, of course, meant good. I don’t think it’s the greatest idea for him to move-in with his HISTORY teacher.
I said, “I don’t know, Frank. I think he wants to get in your pants sooner or later.”
“No way,” Frank shouted with a smile.
I’m afraid that one night Frank may be gullible and ‘wasted enough’ to entertain the old dude sexually.
I said, “You never know!”
Frank insisted, “He’s just a father figure.”
“Well, he seems kind of mysterious to me.”
“Besides, he likes to screw around with young boys!”
I laughed. My point was proven right there.
After meeting Frank’s HISTORY teacher and some other goon named Mike that happened to be there I dropped Frank at his house.
Frank called me when I returned to my apartment and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I miss you and that I’ll call you around three o’clock to arrange something for tomorrow.”
I thought silently, “We’ll have to see about that. I plan on riding my bike to Alameda for breakfast at mom and dad’s. I want some of dad’s birthday cake.”
I may also cruise over to Nici Maurino’s bar on Webster Street tomorrow. I’m a little hesitant about doing so. It’s only because I telephoned her earlier in the morning and some dude answered who I obviously woke up. It was probably one of the Alameda Naval guys who got lucky.
Nici exclaimed, “He’s just a friend…and he didn’t spend the night…just the morning.”
Does she think I was born yesterday? I could hear a gulp in her throat as she made her exclamation. It only confirmed her lie. I may as well face it. She’s a squid lover and a sleaze. I can’t stand it. I thought we may have slowly been turning our relationship into something kind of special…but now (?). Is she really worth it? No…it seems to me that ALL GIRLS can be a pain-in-the-ass. The list goes on: Traci Hill, Christa Keller, Karen Caster. They all have my phone number and I haven’t heard from one of those bitches. Oh well. I still have that RED ROBIN hostess and the Photography Studio chick to drool over until someone else turns up.
It’s not that Frank isn’t keeping me satisfied. He is great company, a loyal friend and I am beginning to really feel for the dude.
Frank had said, “I find myself thinking of you A LOT when I’m not with you.”
I am beginning to do the same.
June 13, 1983
Frank called me at 7AM.
I asked, “Do you want to go to L.A. with me this Wednesday?”
“Oh God,” he blurted and then said, “Uh oh”, realizing he shouldn’t have said it.
I smiled.
“I think I may be able to go,” Frank screeched.
“I’ll believe it when it’s FOR SURE.”
Helen Wong called me at 9:35AM.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“My eye infection is worse, so I’m going to see a doctor.”
“How did it happen?”
“I went motorcycle riding to Santa Cruz on Saturday and something foreign entered my eye.”
I picked up Frank at his school. We went to Lake Chabot for a pleasant walk. We came to my apartment and fooled around a bit and followed that with a dip in the hot tub and pool. We headed for the shower for a climactic day. We went to eat at some chicken joint at Bay Fair Shopping Center. I sort of flirted with some girl named Lynsey. Frank seemed jealous. I thought it silly. I drove Frank home. As I drove to my place I thought about the hostess at RED ROBIN and realized how my infatuation over her was shot because she wasn’t there today.
I wrote a letter to Maria of Jalisco, Mexico because my mom said, “You got another letter from Maria Lourdes. The return address is Guadalajara.”
I realized I hadn’t answered her previous letter.
I also called Paige LaBris in Sacramento to cancel my visit this coming Thursday. My plans had changed as Frank and I intend on driving south to Los Angeles on Wednesday morning. I am looking forward to that trip. Frank’s graduation is tomorrow. That will prove interesting.
June 14, 1983
I rode my bike to Alameda again to visit mom.
I handed the letter to Maria and asked, “Mom, could you mail this?”
“Okay.”
I laughed, “That reminds me of that song called TAKE A LTTER TO MARIA.”
She laughed too saying, “I like that song.”
I also read the most recent letter that Maria had sent me. I guess she hasn’t forgotten me.
After the bike ride I came home to San Leandro. RB FURNITURE of Hayward left a message that my table was ready. There’s no telling when I will pick it up or have it delivered. I’m undecided. I keep putting it off.
I received a pink slip in my mailbox. I had a package at the post-office. What a pain!
My pictures from the SF Bay Cruise were ready. I was pleased by them.
I attended Frank’s graduation. It was okay despite the hard bench I had to sit on for hours. The lady seated in front of me was smoking and the smoke kept finding its way to the front of my face. That was annoying. Cough. After Frank’s graduation we went to RED ROBIN. My yearning for the desirable hostess dissolved as she was not there once again. After the special graduation lunch I took Frank home where I shared a few appetizers with his family. It was a nicely celebrated event.
June 15, 1983
Frank and I left for Los Angeles at precisely 6:30AM. It was an okay drive. Luckily, an asshole cop pulled me over and gave me two options, “You can either take a ticket from me or both of you can politely shake your heads and say ‘PLEASE NO’.”
Of course, like two puppets, Frank and I shook our heads and said aloud, “PLEASE NO.”
I stopped at a BURGER KING in Van Nuys; whereby, we organized all of our camera settings and whereabouts. We continued cruising along all the way down Sunset Boulevard and Rodeo Drive. We browsed around GIORGIO’s, SAKS FIFTH AVENUE and I. MAGNIN. It was kind of boring but we found our way to an ice-cream joint for a root-beer float. We also found a hotel in the Beverly Hills area. We relaxed there after a thrust of excitement upon our arrival. We set off later for a bit of night life (after shampooing, conditioning, showering and shining).
We saw the most beautiful brunette in a blue-green mini dress on Rodeo Drive. Frank even thought she was gorgeous. While on Hollywood Boulevard we found a few card shops and bought ourselves L.A. T-Shirts.
I can’t say I like us right now. Either of us.
We should feel free to play, if we want to. Yes.
And we are male. I think there’s something in male biology that needs this sort of thing.
-Christopher Bram
SURPRISING MYSELF
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