July 08, 2004 - 2:08 am

Black strappy heels, a red satin skirt and a fitted black sweater later, I’m on my way out. Life in San Francisco is good tonight and I look fantastic.

Tonight: Cast party for Movin’ Out. The Tony award winning Broadway musical has just arrived in San Francisco and I was lucky enough to get invited. Look at me, I’m sooo glamorous.

However, the purpose of tonight was not just to bask in my city life of neon and sewage, it was also to meet someone, a man.

My good friend, Roger (who all my faithful readers have come to know and love) has this attractive co-worker who I briefly met about a month ago. This co-worker happens to have recently broken up with his girlfriend. I thought this co-worker was pretty hot and I let Roger know this (um, often) so then the wheels (which I would imagine are pink) in Rogers gay little head started turning.

Now, I’m a pretty girl. Most people who meet me think I’m fairly attractive. Despite this, I’m always hesitant to meet people, especially men. To add to this hesitation, I’m also not absolutely sure if I’m ready to be fixed up right now, but when Roger mentioned that his attractive co-worker would be at the party tonight I decided “Why not?”

Truthfully, like all girls, I had already picked the names of mine and attractive co-worker’s 4 children. In the last two weeks, mine and Roger’s relationship has been punctuated by frantic phone calls or emails from a panicky Annie that sounded like the following:

Annie: “Okay, last question, I promise.”

Roger: “Annie, go ahead, really. Don’t worry about it, if you had a hot co-worker, I’d be asking you all sorts of questions.”

Annie: “So you said he used to smoke and that he’s from Northern California. Okay, well, it’s really two questions. 1) Are his teeth yellow? 2) Does he still have all his teeth?”

Roger: “He has great teeth, don’t worry.”

Annie: “Okay…thanks…bye.”

So there you go. I’ve been asking questions and in all honesty, I was trying to find a flaw. I’m too scared to date and I needed one good reason to not be interested in this guy.

No matter how hard I tried, I found nothing. Roger just kept talking about how great he was and what a nice guy he was.

Roger: “You remember that day we had lunch? When you came to my office?”

Annie: “Yes, why?”

Roger: “He says you guys made eye contact. He remembers you!”

Annie: “We did make eye contact! He remembers that? That’s adorable.”

Roger: “He’s really shy though.”

Annie: “Oh, that’s cute too!”

Hello? I’m a chick! I hadn’t even met the guy and I was already having visions of our wedding on the beach in Santa Cruz (where they don’t celebrate 4th of July because they are so anti-establishment, isn’t that wacky? Love it!)

This is me, as embarrassing as it is. I create these ridiculous alternate lifestyles and I even give them titles sometimes. I’ll spare you.

Back to tonight, so we get to the Great American Music Hall. It’s lovely, of course. I keep thinking about how this is the life I dreamed of living when I was a little girl. I hate admitting it – but it’s true. Living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, going to exclusive parties. They’re all part of the things I hate to love, not to mention things I hate to admit.

One cosmopolitan later Roger is begging me to let him introduce us to each other and I was just too scared. I was lucky enough to have his high school friend, Amy on my side so he left me alone before I could stick my heel in his nads.

After the cosmopolitan, came the wine.

Roger: “Come on, let’s just go. It will just be a quick introduction. You have nothing to be afraid of. He remembers you!”

Annie: “No, I’m not ready. I’m scared. He’s got a really nice smile. Okay! Okay! After this drink! I promise!”

I have to lend some foreshadowing here. The introduction was sooooo difficult. The goodbye would be so easy.

Finally, we walk over. Like an idiot, I’m filling my plate with strawberries and shoving as many as I can down my throat in an attempt to look distracted.

We shake hands. First thought – his hands are really…soft. Second thought – he looks older up close. Third thought – his skin is not that great. Fourth thought – his smile is just about the best one I've ever seen in my entire life

I watch him carefully while he is talking to Roger.

oh. my. god.



He’s gay?

He’s GAY!

Amy is standing there with her mouth open watching the conversation between attractive co-worker and Roger.

I look at her. I had just met her that night but NOTHING builds camaraderie between two women like a situation in which one of them is unknowingly being set up with a gay man.

I lean over to her and whisper in her ear. “Amy, I think he’s on Roger’s team”. She looks at me “I think you might be right”.

We watch as attractive co-worker giggles with Roger, flapping his wrist, smiling his smile and touching Roger every opportunity he gets.

After a bit of chit chat, it’s just Amy, Roger and I.

Annie: “Roger, he’s gay.”

Roger: “What? Noooo.”

Amy: “He’s gay.”

Annie: “Gay, gay, gay, gay gay. Gayer than a Parisian girl on Christmas morn. GAY.”

Roger: “I can’t believe you guys! You guys are crazy. That’s ridiculous! He’s not gay.”

Annie: “Sweetie, he’s INTO you. It’s okay, I’m glad we found this out early before I became attached to him.” (because it’s not like I had picked out our his/hers towels, right? WRONG PEOPLE! I HAD!)

Anyhow, Roger became a little offended at Amy and mine’s homosexual accusations. She and I went to go get drinks.

We come back and what do we see?

Attractive co-worker dancing with another man. Oh! Yeah! No biggie! Not gay at ALL. OH NO!

I watch him and realize that he’s a really good dancer. Straight men can’t move like that. He’s gay.

Here I am, with my fourth glass of red wine. My future husband standing just a few feet away from me swiveling his hips and waving his arms (with the soft hands) to Prince’s “Erotic City”.

Now how am I supposed to believe I wasn’t about to plan the wedding of the year to Liberace?!?

Roger comes up to me and says:

Roger: “He’s not gay.”

Annie: “You better invite me to your wedding.”

Roger: “Shut up. I’m serious. He just came up to me and said ‘You’re friend Annie is so cute. I’m too shy to talk to her.’”

Annie: “Yeah, in gay-ese that means ‘You’re friend Annie ith thuch a DIVA! Where did she get that handbag?!?’ See Roger, you’re problem is that you’re mistaking the gay “I wanna BE her!!!” for the straight ‘I wanna have SOME SEX with her’.”

Roger: You’re a pain in the ass.

Annie: You’re mad at me??? I’m the one who fucking shaved her legs for a gay man tonight!!!

I watched attractive co-worker dance up a storm. I closed my eyes and laughed to myself because someday this would be a great story to tell my children (that I WOULDN’T be having with him).

When it was time to leave I begged Roger to take me with him to go say bye. I really needed to say goodbye to him. ‘Who knew’ I thought to myself ‘maybe we could be friends? Maybe, I can take him shopping with me or we can go out for soy-milk-single-shot toffee nut latte’s together’.

He smiled his smile and I politely shook his hand.

“It was nice meeting you”

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