When I got back at the store, Amanda told me Rob had called. I think his emotions can best
be described by part of the reply I wrote to his e-mail:
Don't hate yourself for not doing things that "you should have done weeks ago" Just do
them. The past is the past and cannot be changed. As soon as you learn that little phrase you'll be
fine. You can't go back and do those things so that they'll be done now, but you can work on them
and get them done soon.
You're not incapable... far from it... do you think I'd want someone who is "incapable of
doing even the simplest things" to be my business partner? No, you know me... perfection... if I
didn't have COMPLETE confidence in your abilities, I wouldn't put MY name on [the RJ venture]...
Don't hate yourself for not being there when I tried to call... just be there now... "The past is
the past and cannot be changed." Get a pager so that I can get ahold of you when I need to...
you don't have to drop whatever you're doing to call me, but at least then you'd know that I tried to
call and want to talk to you soon... you're phone works most of the time, but a pager works ALL
the time... so there, another solution to your problems...
What do you mean, "be any more interested in you than when you were in Kentucky?" I
payed[sic] all my attention to you... sure, I've been "in" to Sean lately, but you're still my
best friend. I know, you want to be "lovers" (ARGHHH... I hate that word)... but you have to
realize, I'm the first gay guy that you've actually met that was decent, right???? We've just got to
get YOU out in the gay circuit and see what's there... no one's going to buy a house if there isn't
a "For Sale" sign in the yard... well, sure, someone MIGHT buy a house by asking if it's for sale,
but it's unlikely...
One thing to remember, boyfriends come and go, but best friends are to stay. This business
venture is going to legally bind us together for at least a few years... but I've already bonded
myself to you emotionally until I die... *teary eyed smile*
You said that you'd be tormented by me being there to physically taunt you... well, I know
that I'd give anything just to hang out with Chris again, knowing that I could never have him... I,
too, ultimatumed him, "Be with me all the time like we have been or not at all." I thought for sure
he'd choose "all the time": He chose not at all... and I've regretted asking it ever since. What I
wouldn't give to go back in time and not make him choose... a little of him would be so much
better than none at all... I'm just saying that
I've been there... I understand... :-)
"He probably deserves a lot more of your attention than I do."? Well, like anything new, Sean
will get more attention than the older things. The new stuff always gets more attention, but it
doesn't mean you love the old any less... it just means that you want to explore the new. It's sort
of like software... you buy the new and sometimes it's good and sometimes it's bad... but you
stick with what you like... I'm still using Chameleon Sampler to connect to the Internet... Iglou
send me Trumpet Winsock... I tried it out
and gave it all my attention... but then I came back to Chameleon Sampler...
Just know, I love you, and wouldn't trade you for a Pentium. *smile*
Since receiving that, he said he's cheered up a bit, but still thinks he may be suffering from
physical depression. He said he was going to go talk to a counselor. I told him to wait and see if I
wasn't able to get him back to normal.
That's about it for now... after I upload this, I'm putting my computer back in its boxes. Talk
to you soon...
September 12, 1995
4:58PM
Well, try to bear with me since I'm using a terminal to create
this and not my hi-tech HotDog web editor.
Anyway, today I looked at two apartments. The first was an
absolute horror. It was on the fifth floor... hiking it all the
way.
Let's see... today I woke at around 9:30AM to the sound of Rob
typing on his computer. I thought he was working on RJ stuff; instead,
he was playing the CD-ROM game I brought him.
After waking up a bit, I started talking to Rob and he came over
to sit on the bed. He hugged me or I him and then I took a
shower before calling a real estate agent.
"All of the agents have stepped out of the office. Can I take your
number?" was all I heard. Next...
I looked through today's Boston Globe and told Rob he had to be my
man and call for me... He did. Apparently, though, all of their
apartments were rented.
I called the next agent and he told me to stop on by... a few
minutes later, we did.
After filling out a form where I had to specify occupation,
salary, and a few other things that I didn't really know, the man
asked me what I was looking for. Having never done this, I hadn't a
clue. I tried to explain, but fumbled through the words. Eventually,
he assigned a young girl, Kathleen, to show me an apartment.
After following Kathleen to her car, Rob and I were driven about
five minutes away to an apartment not too far from here. The outside
looked nice enough, but the inside was a little less
wonderful. Oh... I almost forgot... it had five flights
of stairs. I almost told her before she opened the door that showing
me the apartment was pointless, but I kept quiet. Strike one...
After getting back to Newbury Street, Rob and I found another
agency where the guys were less than accommodating. They seemed to
think I was crazy looking for a studio in the Back Bay area for $750
or less. Not being one to take crap, I told them, "Well, thank you for
your time." and left. Strike two...
The next agency seemed interested enough, but I still had to
answer those pesky occupation/income questions. This time I was
prepared, per Rob's instruction, and put I was a computer
consultant.
This time, Rob and I were taken to a building that looked pretty
darn nice. The outside was new and a steel door looked like it had
just been installed. Once we got inside, it was obvious that the
apartment had just been painted as well. The carpet, however, was
heavily stained and the kitchenette (It had no stove, only a range
top, and a miniature refrigerator) was heavily damaged. As I told
the agent, Lee, it was a real eye-sore.
We talked to her for a while and Rob, my admitted superior in
apartment negotiations, asked several questions about things like air
conditioning and laundry. Turns out, an air conditioner would get you
fined $475 and the laundry was at the end of the building. The laundry
I could deal with, but the air conditioner fine was just another
thing saying "Uh, oh."
Thinking that this was definitely the best place we'd seen, but
not wanting to get the first apartment that was decent, I thanked Lee
for her time and we went back to her car.
As we were riding back to Newbury Street, she kept saying how
another man was interested in the apartment and was most likely going to
rent it tonight. Rob, my non-admitted inferior in marketing, believed
her and asked how certain she was of the "John Doe's" interest.
For the next few minutes, she kept on pressuring and Rob was
fueling the fire. I finally had to say, "Well, I really like it, but
it's not my dream apartment; so I won't cry if he gets it." As Rob
later pointed out, perhaps I shouldn't have been so visually apathetic
about it, but I wanted her to know that her high-pressure sales
pitches weren't working.
For what seemed like the next hour, Rob and I debated on her
truthfulness and the basic paths to acquiring an apartment. I finally
agreed to feign more interest this time, but refused to lie or be
"orgasmic" as I said to him unless I really do love the
apartment. I also told Rob that I'd call back next week to see if all
those supposedly "going today..." apartments were still available.
Tomorrow, I'm going to go hunting again and I'll be much better
prepared. Tonight I have to decide whether I want a nice place or
location. Having both is just too expensive...
© 1995-1999 Justin Clouse
Last night I woke at 4AM and sat on the couch for
over twenty minutes in near tears. I've since taken a lot of medication... but the pain is still
here.
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