Page 51 of Man Cuffed
She makes an excellent point. “We’re still depressed for this first drink,” I say. “When our glasses are empty, it’s my turn to decide our feelings.”
“No unhealthy psychological boundaries there,” Aubrey says. We raise our glasses.
“To switching gears!” Cassidy says.
“To grooms who behave themselves!” Aubrey says.
“To getting my hot next-door neighbor to give me some on-the-job training,” I smugly reply.
We toast.
“That last thing needs an explanation,” says Cassidy.
So I tell them the story on how Mac offered to run lines with me, and then we ran a love scene, and then later he offered to extend the training to have me in a car with him. “He won’t go out to lunch with me. But he’s offered me a ride-along.”
Is it me, or is “ride-along” a fun euphemism? I guess everything sounds like a fun euphemism when you’ve gone as long without sex as I have.
“Oh, gosh,” Aubrey says. “That sounds dangerous. And delicious.” Her face is flushed. I think a single Hemingway has caused her to slip to the dark side. Welcome, my friend. Welcome.
“You know,” I say. “I’ve been single forever. And I’m good at it. I like it. But now I want something more.”
“You mean you want a commitment? Someone who will date only you? Someone to fall in love with and who will love you back and who will put aloe vera on your boobs when you accidentally get sunburned the one and only time you’ve taken your top off at the pool when you were in Italy?” That’s from Cassidy. Wistful Cassidy.
“Well…” I don’t burn easily. So the aloe thing is probably moot. But is that what healthy relationships look like? My experience with those is close to zero. My messed-up and self-indulgent relationships are batting 100. Past boyfriends include: three-married-but-pretending-to-be-single men, an actor who was too good to be true and then I found out he was preparing for a role as a 1950s boyfriend for some made for TV movie, and a really nice guy who had about as much sex drive as a snail.
Then again, maybe snails have high sex drives. All that wetness.
At any rate, I have not been successful in love. And when I look around at Sadie, and her friends, and basically everyone everywhere, I just see people in pairs. And I want to be a pair. There’s no shame in asking for what you want.
I realize Cassidy and Aubrey are staring at me. “Yes,” I admit. “I want someone to rub soothing products onto my bazongas in a healthy, committed way.”
There’s a collective sigh.
“Look.” Aubrey whips out a notebook. “I am a firm believer that anything can happen if you just make appropriate plans. And you exfoliate.” Then she starts scribbling furiously.
I take a hefty drink, because I’m not quite used to the pink and rosy outlook on my new friends. My old actor friends always talked about the drama and despair in their lives. I’m still getting used to Aubrey who ends her signature with a heart.
Now she turns the notebook around and shows us what she’s drawn.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask, feeling the Hemingway in me.
“It’s a graph,” Aubrey says.
Cassidy squints. “It’s literally a line. It’s just a single line.”
“No. It’s a line thatcurves. See? This is where you are.” She draws a big dot at the start of the line. “This is where you end up.” She follows the arch of the line and then ends with a big heart. “And in the middle is the good stuff.”
“What good stuff?” I really want to know. Because I’m really confused.
“All the—” she looks around and leans in—“fucking.” Then she laughs. You’d think that Aubrey would giggle or twinkle or snicker, but no, she’s got a laugh like a marine. Like it’s funny, but it’s a laugh that causes pain. God, I love her. “One end is loneliness and the other is where you and Mac are together.”
“I like the in-between part. I don’t get the rest of it.”
“It’s so easy!” she says, all excited-like. “I can read couples. Like, who has chemistry. Who doesn’t. But you and Mac totally do. You just need to get on the same fucking page. And do you know where more fucking happens than anywhere else?”
“Toronto?” Cassidy guesses.
Aubrey and I turn matching confused faces to her.
