A Gay Boy In Waiting

Has it really been almost a week since I last posted (and lazily at that)? Here's hoping my three readers have stuck around. Luckily, I have come up with all sorts of pithy observations about life that should continue for some time.

Take today for instance. I scheduled a few hours off from work to go see my doctor. The fun thing about going to shrink's office (besides the time off and the fact that he gives me drugs) is that I get to play a little game in the waiting room. I call it, "What's That Guy In Here For?" - basically I guess people's conditions. The Doc shares his space with a physical therapy practice, so sometimes I play a variation on it I call, "Crazy or Broken?"

(What can I say? When it all comes down to it, I've decided approaching my condition with a sense of humor helps me get through it.)

Today was a banner day. First of all, I was about 5 minutes late for my appointment, which never happens. I knew this wouldn't be a problem, because my doctor is always about 15 minutes behind. But the fact that there were two other people who looked pretty bored wasn't a good sign. To my right was an easy one: a middle-aged guy with an "Operation Enduring Freedom" t-shirt on. He was obviously in for Restless Leg Syndrome (click if you don't believe me), which I read up on last time I was in the waiting room. This guy could have registered at least a 3.0 on the Richter scale. The cutie to my left wasn't so easy to figure out. OK, in one sense he was. The snug Lucky jeans and button-down shirt I'd just perused at Urban Outfitters were a dead giveaway of one thing for sure. The low rise sports briefs were the clincher. I know he wore those because every time he would bend down to get a magazine, RLS Guy & I would get a view of his waistband and generous heap of butt crack. Not that I'm complaining or anything...

Anyhow, I determined he has OCD. He had a folder that he kept flipping through and it was meticulously organized. He was also taking notes on articles he would read and had one of those cell phone/personal organizer combos that he would enter information into every so often. And when he took the first of two phone calls, I found out that his name is James. He was also unfailingly polite to the receptionist and had a smile for me on his way out. If I see James again next time, I've determined I will ask him what he's in for. I want to see if I was right - and if I actually have the balls to do something so forward. Who knows? With two months of drugs behind me, I just may.

Anyhow, the reason I had so much time to analyze James and the RLS dude is because I waited for 1 hour and 15 minutes to see my doctor. He apparently had an emergency which backed up two people and we all suffered the consequences. None of which would have bothered me, except that the radio in the waiting room plays nothing but KOST 103.5 - for those of you not familiar with L.A. radio, KOST is our local Adult Contemporary/Love Songs/Torture Device. Seriously, if you're dealing with depressed and possibly suicidal folks, a mix of Michael Bolton, Celine Dion, Kenny Rogers, and Lionel Richie is not the best idea. I was about ready to call it quits when "Your Song" by Elton John saved my ass. Let me tell you, when an Elton John ballad seems cutting edge, you're in one of two scary places: Dante's Ninth Level of Hell or my mom's CD collection.

In the end, I got into the office for a sit down, a good progress report from the Doc and, most importantly, a refill on my prescription. I also got to work an hour later than expected, meaning I clocked a total of four hours today but got paid for eight - w00t! All this and then I saw some legitmate theatre, where I unexpectedly had second row seats! (more on that tomorrow - plus I've got a HomoMojo piece I hope to post tomorrow and weekend blogging plans, so plug in sometim, wontcha?)

Anyhow, the morals of the story are as follows:

1) It's fun to try and figure out how crazy other people are.
2) Don't play bad love songs for said crazy people. No jury in the world would convict someone who has to suffer "My Heart Will Go On" twice in one sitting.
3) Jay is one funny MoFo when he wants to be. And he really wanted to be one tonight.

Hope you enjoyed. See y'all tomorrow!

J.

This post was sponsored by the Drug Down Committee.