When I woke, Lance was walking towards the bedroom giggling. I had no idea if he'd had something to drink or what, but his incessant giggling definitely seemed odd. I tried to wake Larry to put him in the bed, but he wouldn't budge. I then took myself into the bedroom and layed down next to Lance. He was still giggling and I started to find the situation unnerving. He pulled the back of my boxers down, but I kept my weight on their front. I was half asleep, but awake enough to know I didn't want to do anything with someone who might be drunk. And I wasn't sure what he'd want to do with me if he were drunk.
About five minutes later, when the giggling had died down, Lance told me that he'd thrown a stuffed bunny from the top of the stairs and hit me in the head and that was the reason I'd woken just as he was walking away. A logical explanation but I kept my boxers on, nonetheless... well, on until this morning. 
July 28, 1996
2:21PM
After spending a quiet Sunday afternoon at the ranch, the three of us headed back to L.A.. When things were carried in from the car, I went into bedroom, got undressed to my t-shirt and boxers, then got in the bed. But before I was able to fall asleep, Lance was over attacking me. I'd mentioned earlier in the day that I'd had enough sex to last me for a good while and was rather tired of it, but apparently Lance wanted his way. He was pulling my boxers off with such force that I was honestly convinced that they'd rip at any second. I did my best to keep them on then said that I was going to call Larry to help me. As Lance continued his laughing and tugging, I pushed the phone's buttons trying to get the intercom to work... but I didn't know which extention would reach Larry (who was once again going to sleep with Daisy downstairs). After I'd tried a couple extentions, the door opened; it was Larry.
In as light and carefree voice as I could muster, I told Larry that Lance was trying to rip my boxers off and that I was going downstairs to sleep with him. Truth be known, I wasn't sure where Lance's head was or what he wanted to do. I'm fairly certain that he'd go down on me if I'd let him and due to his almost constantly being under medication for asthma or back pain or some other ailment, I'm never quite sure where he is mentally. I mean, I'm never quite sure just how the medication is affecting him... or his judgments. And I certainly don't want anything to happen while I'm asleep.
So, I went downstairs with Larry and we watched TV for about fifteen minutes... and then Daisy started snoring. I mean, a snoring person is bad enough but to have to try to sleep through a dog's snoring is ridiculous. And I was worried about Lance. On one hand, I didn't want to be attacked while I was asleep, but on the other I didn't want him to feel bad about what had happened. I told Larry that I was going to go sleep with Lance and headed back upstairs.
But when I got there, the lights were on and the bed was empty. I looked around the house and checked the bathrooms. Lance was no where to be found. I even went outside: His car was gone. Worried that it was after 1AM and that he was driving home very sleepily, I ran back downstairs and said to Larry, "He's gone."
No note, no nothing. I called his voice mail at his apartment and left a message. I called his voice mail at his work and left a message. I called his voice mail at his apartment again and left another message. I knew the game he was playing: I'd played it myself several times before, but I also knew that if the positions had been reversed and I was the one playing the game, I'd want someone to call and be worried about me. And I did want to know that he'd made it home safely. Larry, however, knew the game and didn't want any part of it. True, it was childish for Lance to leave without a note or coming downstairs, but I understood. Like I said, I'd done it myself too many times before. 
At around 2:30AM, Lance called to say that he'd made it home and got my messages. His excuse for leaving was that if he wanted to sleep alone, he might as well sleep in his own bed. A nearly hour long drive, for that? I don't think so, but I told him that I'd come back up to sleep with him, nonetheless. When we got off the phone a couple minutes later, I fell asleep next to Larry in the waterbed.
When Larry got home from work on Monday, Katie, he, and I went to Chuck E. Cheese's. Truth be known, I was more of a kid than Katie was. I played the games, ate nearly an entire large pizza, and even bought a frozen birthday cake before we left. I had a great time acting less than my age at the arcade games and at the table, Larry & I discussed his feelings on having another child. It was almost a bonding experience: As time goes on, I'm becoming more and more like Katie's parent.
On Tuesday, Lance, Larry, and I went to eat at a steakhouse called Damon's. It was a nice quiet dinner and afterwards we came back and went to sleep... without occurence.
On Wednesday, I stayed at home to finish packing while Larry went to work. For the night's dinner, Larry thought we'd go to DC3, but I wasn't in the mood for something so upscale. And ordering pizza in didn't seem like quite enough. Eventually, I decided that I'd like to go to Country Star. Sure, no one else cared for it, but I did and it was "my" night.
At around 7PM, Val, Katie, Lance, and I left the house to meet Larry at the restaurant. The last time we were there, the place was bare. The idea of having to wait to get a table never entered our minds... of course, having said that, the place had a 20 minute wait. I needed to be at the airport at 9PM for my 10PM flight, but perhaps the wait would be less and we'd be able to eat. We stood around for several minutes then opted to eat at some hot dog place on Citywalk. It was ok, but I'd rather have spent my last LA dinner in a less hussled manner.
When our eating was done, Larry, Lance, and I proceeded to the airport in the Mercedes while Val and Katie headed home in Val's car. During the ride there (and practically the whole night) Lance was particularly quiet. I couldn't figure out why, since he'd been fine on Tuesday, but he was nonetheless.
When we arrived at the airport, Larry and Lance let me out while they went to park the car. But before I'd gotten to a ticket agent, they'd made it back. One piece of checked luggage, no charge for the reticketing (without the good cop, bad cop routine) and we walked to the gate... to find the flight had been delayed an hour and fifteen minutes.
Larry asked when we should be back to board and the gate agent said by 11PM. And so, we walked around the airport, had some ice cream, then returned at around 10:50PM. Larry said that he was tired and asked if he could leave. I said that he could and the two of them gave me a hug and left. Yeah, Larry was probably tired, but I think the real reason he left was so that he wouldn't have to see me get on the plane. It wasn't as emotional just to leave me at the airport.
So anyway, 11:15PM arrived and the flight was cancelled. The new flight, at a different gate, was scheduled to leave at 12:35AM. Wonderful. Waiting at an airport is always boring, but I was waiting at a closed airport. I couldn't even look at the magazines or overpriced gift items. I bought a pack of blank postcards from a postal vending machine then started writing a couple friends back home. "Bored at LAX" was how I titled one.
Close to 12:30AM, a airline representative announced that this flight was also cancelled, for unknown reasons. He offered the option of waiting for the next flight at 2AM or spending the night in an airport hotel to head out the next morning. I chose the later... because the third flight could have just as easily been cancelled and because I thought staying at an airport hotel for free would be koool.
After I was reticketed to leave on a 7:45AM flight the next morning, the airline rep. gave me a hotel voucher and sent me to the waiting area for the L.A. Hilton. By the time the shuttle arrived some fifteen minutes later, I was almost ready to go back and get on the 2AM flight, but I took the shuttle, nonetheless, got a room with no hassle then proceeded to the elevators. At that hour, the only other people checking into the hotel were uniformed pilots. They took two of the elevators then another plain clothed guy and I took the last. He reminded me of Frank, but it was such a random meeting I didn't think anything of it.
I set the alarm clock for 6:30AM, arranged for a wake up call at the same time, then went to sleep.
The next morning I woke, got dressed in the same clothes as the day before (as my luggage had already been sent to Boston), and took the shuttle back to the United gate. At 7:15AM, I called Larry to tell him I was still at LAX and wouldn't be in Boston until 4PM, then the plane started to board. As I was walking to the gate, the guy taking tickets looked remarkably familiar... it was the guy in the elevator the night before. He said, "Deja vu" and I said, "I was thinking, 'Wasn't he the guy in the elevator last night?'" A cute male flight attendant. I was hoping he'd be on the plane and I could see him again.
And he was... during the flight, we flirted. When it came time to pay for the in-flight movie headphones, I had my $5 out, but he handed me the cord and said, "Elevator discount." He commented on my choosing Coke for breakfast, and I made sure he saw the "Advo" part of The Advocate magazine from under my tray table. It was one of the most seemingly short flights I ever remember taking. I didn't even have time to read both of my magazines.
When I got back in Boston, I took a cab to find my apartment exactly as I left it a month ago --heck, it even smelled the same--. I then fell asleep.
On Friday, I made a few phone calls, worked on getting the Members Edition back in order, and filled out mail forwarding requests. Overall, it was catch-up day.
July 30, 1996
12:08PM
My aparment is a wreck. I've spent the last few days cleaning and packing to get ready for my move. On Saturday, I fly to Kentucky, then on the following Thursday I meet Larry in St. Louis. He and I are driving my car back to Los Angeles. ![[Diagram of Cross Country Trip]](details/crosscountry.gif)
I'm sure the trip will be a slightly... but only slightly tamer version of Thelma and Louise.
Since this computer will be packed shortly, I'll be offline until around August 10th. I'll try to keep notes, but until then... have fun.
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© 1996 Justin Clouse
Justin's Koool Page