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Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Me and My Toddtender

The Toddtender, who works as a bartender of course, took me to see Kathy Griffin a couple weeks ago. Between writing about important things like my belt size and Christmas plans for 2008, I haven't really had time to talk about that night, but it was fantastic.

On the afternoon of the show, the Toddtender called to check in with me. When he called, I was actually standing there holding my kitchen window in my hands, but I still managed to answer my cell phone.

Toddtender: Hi, how are you doing?

Me: Not too good. My kitchen window just fell out.

Toddtender: Fell out where?

Me: Well, it is in my hands right now. I mean, it didn't fall out onto the ground. That would be bad because I am three floors up. (Silence on the other end of the phone.) But I was just trying to open it and suddenly it came out in my hands. It has been loose for a little while, but I didn't think it would just come out. (Silence.) So I called maintenance. (Silence.) I think they are paging the maintenance guy for me.

(Long silence, and then...)

Toddtender: Can I call you back?

For some reason I feel like I can't shut up when I talk to the Toddtender. He makes me nervous or something.

Anyway, he showed up later and brought me duct tape in case the window thing didn't work out and I had to tape plastic over the opening. We were planning on going to dinner but had to wait for Andre the Russian Maintenance Man to finish working on my window. Turns out we didn't have time for dinner anyway, because the Toddtender realized he had forgotten the tickets and flew out of my apartment in a panic.

So I watched Andre work as I waited for the Toddtender. I noticed Andre's jacket was ripped, and the lining was coming out. It made me sad, and I tried to decide if Andre would be offended if I offered to give him one of my old jackets. In the end, I didn't offer him a coat because it seemed insulting.

Andre finished up his work, and then the Toddtender returned, so we headed off for a night of fun. We got to the theater in plenty of time to chat with other people. I walked around the lobby like I was some kind of freakin' supermodel because I was trying to trick people into thinking I was on an actual date with the Toddtender. I am not sure I fooled anyone, but it was fun to pretend.

The show was great, but I think my favorite part of the night was just hanging out with the Toddtender at his home bar. I mean, he didn't have to work, so it was fun to have him standing on my side of the bar. And later, when he had a few drinks, he flexed his biceps for me, but I couldn't touch them because I was afraid my face would melt off from desecrating something so obviously holy and divine as his arms.

Don't get me wrong. The Toddtender is, first and foremost, my friend. He is like a brother to me. But he is like a really, really hot brother who is, maybe, only a stepbrother and we didn't really grow up together so it is hard not to have sometimes inappropriate thoughts about him. Or maybe we are very, very distant cousins, and we grew up in separate towns raised by our respective parents, but then someone's parents die (his) and so the other parents (mine) take him in and start calling him my brother, but I still always want to go down to the basement and watch him whenever he works out because there is something so amazing about seeing him perform the bench press.


Can I call you back?

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