Read Blackouts and Breakdowns Online

Authors: Mark Brennan Rosenberg

Tags: #Biographies & Memoirs

Blackouts and Breakdowns (12 page)

I already liked Jim.
He was a New Yorker for one, and seemed like a good time for another.
After looking over my resume, Jim noticed that I worked at a bar in New York where he and his partner had gone on their first date.
After we bonded over that, he told me that he was definitely going to hire me but needed to interview the other people he called in first.
A few days later and told me that he would love it if I joined his team and couldn’t wait for me to start.

A new chapter in my life began when I began working at the cafe.
It gave me a chance to make friends with some really amazing people, something I had not done in the first four months of my D.C. residency.
Everyone at the cafe had a story to tell.
It was almost was if I were living in one big United Colors of Benetton ad. Everyone was so different.
There were Jim and Christopher, the eccentric, gay owners of the cafe.
Then there was Rafal, a Polish guy who was a cook and his girlfriend Erica, who was Swedish and a barista.
There was Yacouba, a cook from Niger, Samina, a server who hailed from Pakistan, and Damian, a server from Boston.
Everyone got along really well and everyone who came into the cafe had a really good time.
My first weekend at the cafe was a blur.
That Friday night, Jim got on the bar and danced in a triangular straw hat to
Kung Fu Fighting
. Saturday, everyone on the patio got a free round of shots because the cafe had just gotten a good review in the Washington Post.
Everyone seemed happy to work there and after a few weeks, I had fallen in love with the cafe.
Maybe D.C. wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.

A few weeks into my employ at the cafe, the gay phone book went from giving me a pay cut to just not paying me at all so I quit.
It was the best decision to make after all.
I could not work for free and if I did not have to work during the day, it would save up a lot of time for me to get drunk and work off hangovers.
As spring continued, I was beginning to make real friends in D.C. and beginning to drink more than what I thought was humanly possibly.
Every night after work, my co-workers and I would drink to the point of blacking out.
Since I no longer had a job during the day, I did not mind drinking all night then waking up at four in the afternoon on a Wednesday to go to work.

One afternoon in May, I was waiting on a cute couple that sat in my section for about three hours drinking Bloody Marys and chatting.
They were really cute so I introduced myself:

“I’m Mark.
I meant to tell you that when you sat down and I took your order, but I guess I forgot.”

“I’m Erin,” the girl said.

“Jerry,” the guy said.

“You guys look like you are having a lovely afternoon, drinking Bloody’s and enjoying this fabulous weather,” I said.

“Actually,” Erin said, “We were just in the middle of a fight.”

“Thank you for coming over and interrupting,” Jerry said.

I laughed: “No problem.”

“Hey,” Jerry said, “You don’t mind if we pull up another chair do you?
My brother is coming to join us in a few minutes.”

“Of course not,” I said.
“But I am heading out of here soon, so I might be coming to join you guys and your brother for a few drinks.”

“We would love that,” Jerry exclaimed.
He then pulled me aside and whispered in my ear: “She’s my mistress not my wife.
I just wanted to clear that up for you before you sat down.”

“I don’t know your life,” I said as I winked at him and walked away to finish cleaning up.

After I was done closing my checks, I saw that Jerry’s brother joined him and Erin.
He was a really good-looking guy.
Tall and built, with blonde hair and a huge smile.
He was totally cute so I sat down with the three of them and began chit chatting.

“I’m Mark,” I said as I put my hand out to greet Jerry’s brother.

“I’m Tim,” he replied, “Are you new here? I have been coming here for years and I have never seen you before.”

“Yes. I just moved down here from New York,” I answered.

“Really?” he asked, “I lived in New York for some time.
On Greenwich Avenue.”

“Oh my God, I used to live on Greenwich and 12th!”

“What a coincidence,” Tim said.
We sat and chatted for hours.
It was as if Tim and I were old friends since we shared so many of the same interests.
Then suddenly Tim pulled out his Blackberry and I noticed the screen was welcoming him to soapcentral.com.

“Oh my God, tell me that your Blackberry does not automatically pull up soapcentral.com every time you turn it on,” I said.

“Yea, I have it programmed to, why?” he asked.

“I love soaps.
Which ones do you watch?”
I was hoping he said he watched ABC soaps, because if he didn’t, our friendship would be immediately over. I have no patience for anyone who watches anything other than ABC soaps.


All My Children
and
One Life to Live
,” he answered.

All of the sudden, I pictured how I would look in my wedding dress when I walked down the aisle to meet Tim at the alter.
“Oh my God, I have been watching those shows for like twenty years!” I gaily responded.

“Me too, I love it.
My only wish is that they would bring Tina back to
One Life to Live
.”

I smacked him.
That was my one wish in life.
That, and moving back to New York as soon as possible.
“Oh My God, I think we are soul mates.”

I don’t know if it was the twelve Bloody Marys or all of the gossiping about ABC soaps, but one thing led to another and Tim and I spent an hour making out in the cafe bathroom.

“There was something I meant to tell you,” Tim said as we took a breath from making out, “I also watch
The Young and the Restless
,” he said.
He could see the disappointment in my face. How could he lie about something as important as soaps?
Little did I know, that was the first of many deceptions on his part.
I told him that I forgave him, but never to lie to me about something as crucial as that ever again.

For the next week Tim and I were inseparable.
We loved all of the same things and we even shared a mutual fear of midgets.
The next weekend he went away and I called him when he got back to see how his trip was but he never returned my call. I then texted him but never got a response from that either.
By that Wednesday, I had all but given up hope.
Perhaps Tim had been sent in a riverboat over a waterfall just as Tina had been on
One Life to Live
many years earlier.
Maybe he would resurface in a few years and interrupt my wedding one-day just as Tina had done after she went missing.
I put dreams of being Tim’s baby’s momma on the back burner.
Maybe he was just a blip on the radar of my life. I was hurt that I had not heard from him, but decided I needed to refocus my attention.
I was beginning to really like D.C. and had made so many new friends at the cafe that I loved hanging with.
Maybe if I hung out with them and got drunk, that would ease my pain.
I decided that week to join my sister Kim and my friend Jonathon out for drinks at the Diner, located next to the cafe I worked at.
I had put all previous bad memories of AOF and their legion of gay evildoers behind me and went in.

Of course who was the first person that I bump into? Tim. “Oh my God, Mark, where have you been?” he asked.

I walked up to the bar where he was sitting and ordered a drink, “Here. Working.
Where have you been?”

“I told you I was going out of town.”

“I called and texted you and you never got back to me,” I said.

“My phone wasn’t working,” he said as he was checking his e-mail on his phone.
I looked at him as if he thought I was a complete moron.
“Oh,” he said, “I got a new one.
But I never got your message.”

“Ok,” I continued, “Do you still want to get together sometime?”

“Sure.
Why don’t we have an
All My Children
marathon at my apartment on Saturday night? Have you watched this week?”

“Actually, no I haven’t.
That would be perfect.”

“Ok, it’s a date then!” he said.
We knocked back a couple of drinks and I eagerly awaited my date on Saturday night.
However, much to my chagrin, I got a text message from Tim on Saturday afternoon saying that he had to cancel our date.
He was going to have an early night as he was leaving in the morning to go to New York and needed to rest up.
I was so disappointed that I decided to meet up with some lesbian friends and get wasted.
Shortly after, my friend Meg called and told me that she was going to her friend’s birthday party and asked me if I wanted to join her.
I agreed and walked over to the infamous diner, where Meg’s friend’s party was being held.
Of course the first person I bumped into was Tim.
I ignored him and went straight to the bar for a drink. About fifteen drinks later, I drunkenly confronted him:

“Why did you tell me that you were having a night in when you obviously weren’t?”

“I didn’t think I needed to give you a play by play of my life,” Tim said.

“I thought we were friends.
Why did you lie to me?”

“I don’t need to tell you what I am doing every day.
We aren’t in a relationship and frankly, it’s none of your business what I do.”

“But, you made plans with me,” I cried.

“We’re not boyfriends,” Tim said as he turned and walked away.

I had thought that we were at least friends, and I know that I didn’t treat my friends with a complete disregard to their feelings.
I was so annoyed by what happened, I walked down the street and noticed that Jim was sitting in the cafe, having a drink. I burst through the cafe door and sat next to him.

“What’s wrong pumpkin?” Jim asked.

“Nothing,” I replied as I took a sip of the drink the bartender handed me.
I was in no condition to continue drinking, but I was upset and needed something to make me feel better.

“Boy problems?” Jim asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who is the lucky guy?”

“This guy Tim, he hangs out next door at the Diner a lot,” I said.

“Tim Tim? I know Tim.
I slept with him a few months ago.”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I needed to hear right now,” I said as I downed the rest of my drink and walked out the door. I had finally started to like D.C. and now, I hated it even more than ever.
People down here just did not operate properly.
For the next few months, as the summer continued on, everything and everyone bothered me, and everyone experienced the wrath of Mark.

However, there were some very colorful characters that I waited on at the cafe.
One afternoon, I was serving a very loud group of gay guys.
I introduced myself, hoping to make some new friends,

“I’m Ryan,” the kid who seemed to be the leader of the gays said, “Why don’t you join us when you are done working?”

“Sure,” I said.
After I was done working, I sat down with Ryan and his army of skanks to have a few drinks.

“So Mark, where are you from?” Ryan asked.

“New York,” I answered.

“Oh I love New York,” Ryan said, “But I could never live there. Everyone is so mean.”

“I don’t think so.
I think everyone in D.C. is mean.
You are probably just bumping into other Washingtonians when you are in New York.
That’s the only reasonable excuse I can think of,” I responded.

Ryan laughed: “So you don’t like D.C.?”

“Nope.
I think it’s an awful place filled with awful people,” I answered.

“Really?
That’s interesting. I don’t think so,” Ryan said.

“Maybe I have just been meeting the wrong people.
I mean, I have a few good friends, but for the most part, people are pretty ridiculous down here,” I said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well for one thing, everyone is so interested in themselves that they don’t ever want to get to know anyone or anything outside of their own bubble” I continued.
“I don’t care about politics and I am really not impressed with all of these homos who run around telling everyone that they work on the hill. Let me tell you something, I probably make more money waiting tables then those fuckers do and I don’t have to change who I am every time I go to work.
Also, everyone is so cliquey here.
I don’t get it.
No one wants to make friends with anyone else and everyone is so stuck up.”
As I continued talking, the faces of Ryan and his friends went from half smiles to faces of sheer confusion, “Have you ever noticed that hot girls are always with really ugly guys?
What is with that?
It’s like the girls down here will just settle for anyone that gives them the time of day.
And the subway system is awful.
For a metropolitan area, D.C.’s subway system is atrocious.
It never works and something is always broken.
I don’t understand how the people who run it can be so incompetent that they can’t even figure out how to make an elevator work. Also…”

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