Playing Catch-Up

It’s Sunday afternoon in my cozy apartment. The sun is setting outside on a brisk Seattle day. It’s cold.



New Year’s

There’s not much to say about this New Year’s Eve because I spent it in the hospital. The 24-hour period (from 7 am New Year’s Eve to 7 am New Year’s Day) was unexpectedly quiet. I got only 3 consults in the whole time, which may be a new record for me. Of those, I only had to admit one to my team. Not too bad. Sitting with my intern around 11:45 pm that night, we reminisced about some other, better New Year’s Eves. Here’s a brief list of the locations of my recent New Years that I can remember:

2005 – On call, Madigan Army Medical Center, Ft. Lewis, Washington
2004 – Radio station party on a pier, Seattle, Washington
2003 – Whistler Village, Whistler, British Columbia, Canada
2002 – Gabe Buhr’s house, Poway, California
2001 – Hotel Room with Sara, Denver, Colorado
2000 – Jonny G’s Castle Party, Ramona (?) California
1999 – Casino Area, Reno, Nevada
1998 – Year of the bum – I don’t remember (Pacific Beach?)
1997 – The Beachcomber, bar, San Diego, California

They get pretty hazy before this point…

The House Cleaner

A couple of weeks ago I decided to get a house cleaner. Given my ‘eclectic’ location in an artsy (read: gay) part of Seattle, I wasn’t too surprised when the company I hired sent a flamingly gay man to come polish up my pad.

I made it a point to be home for the first visit because I wanted to make sure this company wasn’t sending some hoodlum to come steal my stuff. Enter Peter. He’s nice enough, and queer as a three-dollar bill. He’s a mildly overweight guy from LA and he came equipped with the requisite cleaning supplies and token lisp.

When he got to my place, we chatted for a while as he began his cleaning process. Over the next three hours, it was mostly quiet as I did work at my desk and he cleaned. A few times, however, he’d notice something in my apartment and ask about it, and that would spark some friendly conversation. He also told me some “cleaning guy horror stories” about gross apartments he’s been in, etc. Told with the predictable flamboyant flare, these stories were quite amusing.

At the end of the first session, I gave him a solid tip and he rolled out of there. My place was clean.

Three weeks later he was slated to come back. I was going to be at work this time, so I left a key with my apartment manager and told her to let good old Peter in. Before I had gone to work that day, I had left him a 20-dollar check for a tip and a note with a few details about what to clean (my laundry, etc). When I got home that day, Peter had once again made the place spotless. He also left a note of his own, which has hilarious. (See pics). The best thing about the note was the final tally on flare in said note – namely 10 stars, 6 exclamation points, and 4 smiley faces. Nice work gay guy!








Anyway, that was that and I didn’t think much more about it until the next night. On that Saturday night (he had cleaned my place and left the note on a Friday), I was chillin’ at my place and playing some Madden.

It was about 7 pm when I heard a knock at my door. Not expecting anyone, I crept up quietly to the door and looked through the peephole. It was Peter. Whoa.

I considered creeping back to the couch and ignoring the whole thing. But then I realized my TV is on pretty loud. It was pretty unmistakable that I was in fact home. Not wanting to offend Peter, a man who could potentially steal my stuff, I decided to open the door.

The encounter:

“Hey,” I say. I notice Peter is dressed to kill.

“HEY!!!” Peter beams with a voice that explains the flare on his note.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I totally forgot to give your key back to your manager, so I’d thought I would bring it by!” Bring it by, I thought. On Saturday night. At 7 pm. Dressed up.

“Oh. OK,” I reply. Peter’s expression gets a little more serious for a second. He looks at me with a slightly devilish twist of the mouth.

Awkward pause. At this point I realize Peter is probably hoping for a little more than to simply return my key.

“Great job on the place – it looks great,” I add hurriedly, hoping it will distract him.

“Oh yeah – I LOVE YOUR TREE BY THE WAY!” he squeals. We chat about the tree for a half a minute. Then the awkward pause comes again.

Oh Lord, he wants me to invite him in, I’m thinking. What a perfect fantasy. I invite him in, next thing you know we’re rolling around in my immaculately groomed apartment making passionate gay love! Whoa. The thought almost makes me crack up. Instead, I quickly say thanks and good-bye and close the door.

Dude. Hilarity. In some ways I think it would be really fun to be gay. Unlike with men and women, there seems to be absolutely no brakes on sexually charged situations. You share a look – and boom – next thing you’re having sex. Good stuff.

Even more hilarious then that story is Gwen’s reaction. I can tell she can’t quite tell if she should be jealous or not. Either way, it sure is easy to rile her up about it. ("Sorry Gwen, I'm busy - Peter's coming by later....") Lately, she’s been demanding to be here the next time Peter comes to clean so she can tell him to stay away from her bitch!


Oh Christmas Tree

On a final note, I’d like to add some pics of my sweet X-mas tree. It’s loaded with all the coolest ornaments. Star Wars stuff, mostly. But there’s also Spiderman, Wile E. Coyote, some LOTR stuff, and a few other assorted odds and ends. There are several audio ornaments, and when I plug it in it goes nuts with about 8 different Star Wars quotes and noises. I’m sad I have to take it down soon. Here are some pics: