This week's episode: A Marriage of Convenience and an Inconvenient Truth.
When I first thought that this guy--let's call him The Hotness--was interested in me, I thought, No way can a man this attractive actually be into me. It just doesn't follow the natural order of things. There is something horribly wrong here. My friends cautioned me not to over think (because I tend to do that, even about things as mundane as what to have for lunch): He's hot, he's looking for female companionship, he's leaving the country in a few months--it's like a 6'2" Colombian gift from the universe with a little tag on it that reads "To Jenn's Pants".
I mean, what has the universe done for me lately? Nothing. So, all right. Maybe things were finally starting to look up. Question mark?
I first met him at my parent's house on Father's Day, which was odd in itself, since I've always felt that the sheer ridiculousness of my family makes me significantly less attractive as an individual. To compound my embarrassment, I was dressed like the sad tramp, because--let's face it--there are certain places in the world you can go without having to put even minimal effort into looking good because you would never expect to meet people that you could potentially mate with. For example: any organized event ending in 'Con' (Comic-con), AA meetings, Malden, the dentist's office, your parent's house... Miraculously, The Hotness seemed undaunted by both my personal grotesqueness and my family, which was a bizarre turn of events. In fact, he seemed to actually like my family, and they, him. They approved of him so much, that one by one, they would take turns pulling me aside or cornering me in various just-out-of-earshot places to give me some new and unsolicited piece of information regarding his existence:
"He's a new friend of your uncle's."
That's nice.
"He's single."
Good for him.
"He's an architect working on a major project downtown."
You don't say.
"He's leaving the country in September to live in Spain."
I'm so happy for him.
And finally, my uncle:
"Did you meet my friend? He's looking for a girlfriend."
Quizzical expression. Huh? Really?
It soon became evident to me that my family was already planning my wedding, despite the fact that they literally just met the man and that he was to leave the country en tres meses. My mother had these wide, dewy eyes that screamed, I'VE ALREADY NAMED YOUR FIRST THREE CHILDREN, DON'T BLOW THIS.
Despite this familial interference, I quite independently (and uncharacteristically) made the decision to pursue this to whatever end would come of it. I hoped that end would not involve clothing or marriage. So me, my big cyber-balls and I decided to befriend him on Facebook, thus opening the lines of communication in a non-threatening way.
Yeah, that was really ballsy for me.
Shockingly enough, this lead to some surprisingly flirtatious back-and-forth, and the next thing I knew I had finagled my way into his Thursday night plans with my uncles & Co. We had kind of a rocky start that evening, as there was a bit of a language barrier, but after a few gin and tonics we were re-enacting scenes from "Dirty Dancing":
Now, I am no expert on men by any stretch of the imagination, but all of the signs seemed to be there--the sexy dancing, the persistent compliments, the constant touching, the close-talking. Not to mention that he insisted that I keep all of my Thursday nights open from June to September.
Perhaps I was just being a big self-saboteur. Maybe there was something there.
This feeling was slightly reinforced the next day, when pictures started surfacing on the inter-web. Pictures of The Hotness hugging my grandmother. Pictures of us drunk and fooling around on the dance floor. Pictures of us looking sweetly at each other through heavy-lidded eyes.
Maybe he really does want to get in my pants...
Question mark?
Slowly, I was allowing myself to be okay with the fact that it might be safe to go ahead and have sexy feelings for this man. That is a huge deal for me because my soul is black, barren landscape of broken dreams.
It's okay. At least I can laugh about it.
We went out again, this time to a movie about the trials of an undocumented immigrant living in New York City, who eventually gets caught and deported back to his home country. (Uh-huh.) My uncle's partner, by unsubtle means, had encouraged me to sit next to The Hotness. I still had a weird, persistent feeling. Even though my uncle definitely told me that he was looking for a girlfriend, something was amiss. There's something odd about a man who repeatedly tells me how beautiful I am, but on the second meeting, has still yet to get me alone to suck on my face. Maybe I'm just a fast, easy woman, but seriously, dude. Let's get to the sex.
I asked my friends, do you think that maybe, it's quite possible that he is gay, despite what my uncle initially told me, and despite the fact that he has been married to two other times... to women? Clearly, when he tells me how beautiful I am, he means in a fruity, Keats-ian, marble statue sort of way. Do you know who else was keen on marble statues? The Ancient Greeks. And let me tell you--they were all pretty gay.
Actually, I'm pretty certain that they invented gay:
"No, he's just bisexual."
Right. Bisexual. Question mark?
Then, my uncle posted new pictures on Facebook.
One in particular caught my eye--the one where my uncle is grabbing The Hotness' junk.
Err... Bisexual?
Great. He's gay/bisexual and he's banging my uncle. Things are getting weird fast. What if The Hotness is involved with my uncle and my uncle's partner and they are trying to entrap me in a green card marriage just to keep up the raunchy three-way man sex? Why else would he deliberately mislead me into thinking that The Hotness was bisexual/looking for lady-loving? Yes, it's all starting to make sense.
"Don't be paranoid," my friends said. "Your uncle would never do that to you. Sometimes guys just grab each other's junk. It's like a handshake, really. They were just joking around. Besides, you know how your uncle is."
Indeed I do. I know that he's an unscrupulous man-whore who wouldn't hesitate to sell me on the black market if that meant keeping the hot Colombian meat in his freak sandwich. Apparently, there is an entire world of things I don't know about men folk. You know, like when they are en masse and there are no ladies present, they grab each other's junk.
Spookily enough, the picture in question vanished soon after I saw it.
So I came right out and asked my uncle. Is The Hotness gay? Sometimes gay? Three quarters gay? Questioning his sexuality?
To which he responded (several days later): Sooooooooo gay.
Then the next day, on the car ride home from my grandfather's 85th birthday party, he casually informs me that they are in a sexy three-way relationship. (This fact, however, does not stop The Hotness from feeling me up whenever possible.) Then he spends a good twenty minutes telling me about The Hotness' last marriage of convenience and how that didn't work out so well, and then lamenting about how life will suck when The Hotness leaves, and how there is a distinct lack of eligible American women in their circle, if only they could find someone for him to marry real quick so that he could stay in the country...
Double ewe tee eff.
Will Jtron marry the sexy gay Colombian to keep him from being deported despite all of the shady dealings? Will she ever learn Spanish? And what of this three-way crap?
To be continued...
