He asked me what I was doing there and I asked him the same. He told me he was moving in.
I walked into the room where Scotty was sitting and told him Jay was moving in. He looked at me and smiled. We helped Jay with his boxes of things and after placing them all in his room the three of us sat down to relax. Scotty got up to go make some snacks leaving Jay and I alone in the living room. I was still in a state of disbelief that Jay was there. Scotty had assured me that he and Jay had not spoken for quite some time and now here was Jay sitting in front of me. Jay mentioned how it was getting late and that I could stay with him if I wanted. Before I could answer Scotty returned with a plate of food. After finishing the food Scotty got up to put the dishes in the kitchen. Again Jay mentioned that I could stay with him. When he returned I motioned for him to follow me out of the room. I told him that Jay kept telling me I could stay with him. I was angry that he lied to me about Jay and that he had not told Jay we were seeing each other. He told me not to worry that he would handle it. Scotty told Jay that he was going to bed. Jay once again told me I could stay with him. “She is staying with me,” he informed him.
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I got him talking about what was bothering him. “You can go,” he said after what seemed a lifetime. I looked over at Greg and he motioned for me to go. I did not want to leave him there, but he insisted I leave. As I walked out the front door Dave reminded me he knew where I lived and if I went to the police he would find me and kill me. I left the apartment and went home without speaking to anyone. Once I was home I debated about calling the police. I figured he would be in jail for an evening and then they would probably let him out. It was safer for Greg and I if I did not call the police. I am not sure if I made the right decision, but we are both still here.
It had been a long day at work and I was happy to be home. I walked up to my brick apartment building on Belmont Street and rang the buzzer. Greg was suppose to let me in as we only had one key. Since he was home during the day, he had the key. No one answered, so I tried again. I had no way into the apartment. I walked down the sidewalk to the cafe on the corner where there was a pay phone. I called Scotty to let him know my situation. He told me to come over and I called a cab. The Yellow Cab took me to the warehouse in the SODO where Scotty lived. After climbing five flights of stairs I made it to his loft. We sat down to eat a quick dinner and watch television. During a commercial I got up to get a glass of water. At the sink I filled my glass when I heard a knock at the door. Scotty asked me to answer it. I was surprised someone was at the door since the loft was not in a residential area and one would have to go out of their way to get to the warehouse. I opened the door and my ex Jay was standing there. We both looked at each other in surprise.
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His twin sister Candace worked at the club. Greg had received a degree in Social Work and was looking for a job.
Greg and I had been through an ordeal. Earlier that year we were spending a quiet evening at his apartment watching television. We were the only ones home and it was nice to just sit and relax. We were sharing a bean bag chair and enjoying one of our favorite shows. Sometime during the middle of the episode his roommate Dave came home and walked through the living room without saying anything. Neither Greg nor I thought anything about it. Dave was sometimes social, sometimes not. After a short time Dave returned to the living room and stood over me. When I looked up the end of a loaded gun was pointed at my head. He told us he was going to kill us. My first thought was that this could not really be happening. I sat completely still hoping he would suddenly say it was a joke. Greg had an alarmed look on his face which told me this was not a game. He told Dave to kill him first because he did not want to see me die. While Greg was being my hero, I did not want Dave to get agitated into actually harming either one of us. I told Greg to be quiet and I began to talk to Dave in a quiet and calm tone of voice. My instincts were to keep talking. The gun continued to be pointed at my head.
I watched him walk down the hall and out of my apartment building.
It was an unusually warm summer , and that Saturday morning had all of my windows of my second floor apartment opened. I was relaxing from a long week on the couch reading a book by DH Lawrence. I had bought from a woman on Broadway selling classic books from a wooden wheelbarrow. I admired her dedication to good literature. I was deep into the novel when I heard some unusual noise in my kitchen. I turned to look and saw an arm and leg coming in my window. I jumped up off the couch and made my way to the front door. An arm pulled me back and just as I was about to scream I saw that it was him. My heart was beating a hundred miles per hour. I asked why he didn’t ring the buzzer at the front door. Scotty said he saw my windows were open and he thought it would be easier just to climb up and come in. I put my arms around him and gave him a hug. I walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch. He followed and grabbed my acoustic guitar sitting against the wall. Sitting next to me he began to serenade me with a new song he wrote. It was about me. I felt my face turn a warm color of red. He would use this song in the future to try and get back on my good side when he was in trouble.
Later that afternoon I received a call from Greg, a man I had previously dated. Greg had gone to Montana to finish his college degree and now he was back in town and needed a place to stay. He said if he did not find a place to stay that he would be homeless. I could not stand the thought of one of my friends being homeless, so I told him he could stay with me for a while. Greg’s sister had started a music venue downtown called the Crocodile Cafe. She was married to Peter Buck from the music group REM.
I found it very sexy to have a man cook for me. I wasn’t use to it and the fact that he knew how to cook surprised me. I didn’t really have anything to make and told him I would have to go to the store. He opened the fridge and a few of my cupboards and told me to go have a seat in the living room. Sitting on the sofa I heard the clink of pans, the sound of things being chopped and the aroma of savory meat filled the room. A gourmet meal of pasta and chicken was served to me by the man who worked construction.
I had always been one of those people who could not cook without a recipe. I always followed the instructions to a tee. If I did not have all of the ingredients, the recipe was not made. Scotty got me thinking outside the box. I began viewing cooking as an art form with rules to be broken and experiments being tried. He lived his entire life outside the box and I had always lived mine inside. He began drawing my true personality out, which is what kept me interested and what would in the future make it hard to leave.
After dinner he said he had to get up early the following morning to get to the construction site. Before he left he told me he hid an emergency cigarette somewhere in my apartment so that if I ran out I would have to call him to find out where he had hid the emergency cigarette. He always left a reason to come back or for me to have to contact him. Although charming it revealed his insecurities. He often appeared confident and almost a big arrogant at times, few people saw his other side. At the door he pulled me into him placing his hands on my hips. His warm kisses made me want more, so I told him he better leave.
The night air was chilly as I made my way home alone, but I did not feel it. My phone rang as I walked into my apartment. He was making sure I was going to his band practice the following day. I smiled as I hung up the phone.
The summer night was warm. I made my way down 12th street on Capitol Hill. As I approached the small building the sound of electric guitars got louder. I entered a large white room where the band was playing on an old wooden stage. I stood in the back and watched them for a while. Scotty had a guitar strapped over his shoulder and was singing into a microphone. Upon seeing me the band took a break. Scotty came down off the stage and kissed me hello. The other band members made their way off the stage and made their way to where we were standing. He introduced me as “Weenie.” I looked at him in confusion and he said he just made up the nickname. That is what he called me from then on.
After band practice we walked hand in hand down Broadway, turning on Denny, then on Belmont to my brick apartment from the 1920’s.
As he spoke I noticed the tattoo on his shoulder that read, “I scream therefore I bleed.” On his other arm was a tattoo of the sun. I was curious as to why he chose those two items to be permanently placed on his arm, but forgot to ask as I was listening to him tell me he was going to be Peter Frampton or die. I told him he had better be Peter Frampton.
That is where he ended the story of his life. He must have sensed that I was nervous. I watched him get up and walk over to my side of the table. Bending down he gave me a kiss and returned to his side. Stealing a move from a Woody Allen movie he then said something like, “there, now we got that out of the way.” Reaching across the table he took my hand in his and held it there as we continued our conversation. I no longer felt uncomfortable or awkward. We sat at our table at the far end of the room until closing. As I listened to him talk I stared into his eyes. I wanted to see if he was genuine or not. I could tell he was being his real self, but that maybe not everything he was saying was true. Men who seem to have a lot of charm are usually compensating for something. I wondered what insecurities he as covering up. His mysteriousness kept me interested. When the bar closed we stood outside saying good -bye. He drew me into him with his hands. My body melted as his lips touched mine.