The Tempest

Not Exactly Shooting For \”Miss Congeniality\”

The “Ex” Factor

Posted by Daniel on Sunday, December 10, 2006

Funny thing about going out to the clubs with friends. Especially as it is so rare for us, ever since we’ve been living in the suburbs.

It’s one thing when you live in the city. You are so close to everything, relatively speaking. And, since all of your friends live pretty close to you, going out to the bars always seemd so natural and easy…and frequent. Funny, the things one takes for granted.

I always hated the city. It is too busy, noisy, and, depending on the areas, hazardous to one’s health. I used to live in the heart of Kansas City. Brookside, then Westport and finally the Plaza area. All three areas were and still are pretty trendy, nicely kept and upscale. An island oasis smack dab in the middle of an otherwise drab sea of icky cookie cutter areas.

Going out with the gang always seemed to be the perfect break from the everyday Kansas City doldrums. And, as with any gay life in any other city, there are some stories that could be told about our exploits. We never missed a weekend of going out. Not once.

Now that I live the life of a suburbanite, things have really slowed down. Now it’s maybe once a month…if that. So, when we do get to meet up with our stalwart crew, as with any gang of friends enjoying a night on the town, we make the most of every minute.

It never fails, though, that something in me kicks in and makes me the one they look to for laughs. Having social anxiety, I tend to use smart-assed comments and dry one-liners as my personal way of warding off the anxiety. Sometimes to my own detriment. I still don’t like being crammed in a bar where people have to rub their body against mine just to get by. Especially when the crowd is less than…um…attractive. I won’t name that bar (they already know who they are) and don’t ask me why we still go there.

At this point I should explain that other than the so-called gay satellite bars scattered hither and yon, there are basically four bars that are even worth going to. Kansas City really does have a problem keeping good gay bars for very long. I still haven’t figured out why, exactly.

At any rate, we’ll be out at one of the four bars and, since bar choices are so few and far between, it is inevitable that you will run into someone you used to be “married” to. I’m not talking about those that you spent one night with and never went out with again. I’m talking about those with whom you really gave it the old college try…and one or both of you flunked out. (for the record, it was always his fault…not mine)(that’s my story and I’m sticking to it)

So last night we went out and met our friends. Things were going well and all was normal. I was again entertaining all who came near with my clever reparte and verbally hacking to pieces those who inevitably shame or otherwise embarrass themselves within my range of sight or hearing. I know what you’re thinking, “What an asshole. I’d hate to party with him.” You couldn’t be more wrong…and I’d be the first one to point that out if we ever did party together. To be fair, those in our group (Steve, Scott, Todd, Tom and I) are all equally fun, witty and catty. They just aren’t as quick on the draw as I am. What can I say? If you want to bark with the big dogs, you can’t pee like a puppy.

It’s a wonder we leave them…Then, as is the case every time we go get to go out, my ex’s seem to file past. Like it were some bizzare Loser Pride Parade or something. Last night, I counted 4 of them.

Note: That might sound like a lot of ex’s, but if you’re over 30, it’s about par.

I used to get the heebie-jeebies when that would happen. Then I passed through that phase of scoping them out to see how fat they’ve become (and they all have for some odd reason) and what they’re either dating now or currently stalking. Now, being older and wiser, I just stand there laughing it up with the gang, looking devilishly handsome, being (to those passing by in the parade) the center of the social universe (we do tend to gather a crowd) and allowing all to revolve around me. Just kidding.

I don’t really do all of that.

But I want to.

No, I just play like I don’t notice them and let them bask in what they’re now missing. Don’t call me shallow. You know you’ve done the same thing.

It never fails, though. At least one of them will eventually muster the courage and make their approach. This has to take some huge balls, because they can obviously see I’m with all of my friends…the very same friends I had when I dated said ex and the same friends who actually told that soon-to-be ex that they were on to his cheating, lying, stealing shit and they were going to shake some sense into me and convince me that throwing the bastard out was my only option.

Yup…huge balls…and shiny, I’ll wager.

Loser: “Daniel? Hey! I thought it was you.” (“thought”…the bastard is still a big fat liar) “How are you? You look so good.” (duh!) “How have you been?”

Me: “Oh, just fine.” (fighting off the urge to scratch his eyes out and demand he return the shit he stole from me)

Loser: “Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing?” (you gotta give the fucker points for raw nerve)

Me: “How are you doing?” (as if the sloshing of his drink, stale breath and staggering didn’t give it away)

Loser: “Fan-fucking-tastic.” (there’s that clever conversationalist I missed so much)

Me: “Glad you’re happy.” ( I couldn’t give a shit either way. I still wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire)

Loser: “You don’t have to act all stuck up, bitch. So, you wanna hook up?” (shiny!!)

Me: “Sure.” (that made me feel dirty…I think I threw up a little)

Loser: “Really?!?” (hope springs eternal, I guess)

Me: “No.” (loud and uproarious laughter from the gang and fans)

Uber-Loser: “Still a snooty bitch, I see. Your loss.” (this is why I have NO regrets in life)

Kansas City really does need more bars.

I can’t wait to go out again, though. Maybe that’s the allure of going out clubbing for a suburbanite…having a chance to sharpen his/her claws.


One Response to “The “Ex” Factor”

  1. RevelKC2 said

    By “quick on the draw” he means “loud”…just to clarify…:-)

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