Wednesday, December 16, 2009

What did your fake boyfriend get you for your birthday?

...In which I explain to my friend in an email how he became the romantic rival of a sixty-something-year-old developmentally disabled dude, just in case he ever thought things couldn't get weirder.

Let me set up a little background for you:

One of the agents I work with has a friend whose uncle is developmentally disabled. At some point in time several years ago, the agent took the uncle under her wing. She started bringing him into the office on Wednesday afternoons when she was picking up her mail. This is how I met him.

His name is Tom*. He's in his sixties. He can hardly hear anything so he has to look directly at you to understand what you're saying. He yells everything because he can't hear and he's a little garbled and difficult to understand. If he's 5'2" I would be surprised.

He's got a mind like a steel trap.

At my office Christmas party last week (no "holiday" party for us because we are all Christian, obviously) Tom tried to ask me out on a date. For real. I floundered a little bit, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I didn't know what to say. When I didn't answer right away, he asked if I have a boyfriend. I said "YESSS".

"What's his name?"
"What's your boyfriend's name?"
"Hold on, somebody is calling me."

Half an hour later...

"So, what's your boyfriend's name?"
"How's your sister doing?"
"What's your boyfriend's name?"
"Oh. Is he older than you?"
"How old is he?"
"Where does he work?"
"For the government."
"What does he do?"
"Where does he live?"
" Maryland."
"Does he take you out?"
"Does he drive?"
"(head down, dejected) Oh....does he love you?"
"Not really, hey! look they are putting out more shrimp I know you like those why don't you go get some before you figure out that I am pulling your leg and treating you like you are neither an adult nor a human being by lying to you in an attempt to spare your feelings."

Because Tom might love me more than my fake boyfriend, but the one thing he could never do is drive me somewhere, and that's what all the girls really want.

He has been asking me about my birthday for a few months now, always carefully remembering that it's December 15th. The day arrived Tom.

I was having a weird time coping with turning thirty in any case, so it wouldn't have been the best time for me to deal with fighting to not let Tom kiss me on the mouth. I have to give the dude credit, it's not for lack of trying.

Cut to today...

I am in the kitchen at work, making some shitty chicken nuggets in the microwave way after lunch time because I got busy at lunch time and no-one was here to remind me to stop what I was doing and eat something. Around the corner comes Tom. Surprise!

Tom has beautiful yellow roses for me for my birthday. He tells me that he didn't forget my birthday, NO SIR.

The first thing out of Tom's mouth after I sit back down in my office:

"What did your boyfriend get you?"

At this point I have completely forgotten that I have a fake boyfriend for Tom's benefit. Clearly, Tom has not.


"Uh...We went out to dinner."
"Oh. What did he get you?"
"He should have got you a diamond ring."
"I got you flowers."
"You sure did."
"So what did you do last night?"
"Went out to dinner."
"What did your boyfriend get you for your birthday?"
"Nothing yet."

Tom got a very smug look of satisfaction on his face. He quizzed me to make sure I would answer the same, and both times I did; my fake boyfriend got me nothing.
He trumped my boyfriend by getting me fake boyfriend made up for the sole purpose of deflecting Tom's advances.

I just thought I'd share that with you, in case you didn't have enough Christmas spirit and you needed an uplifting holiday story involving me, a developmentally disabled guy and my fake boyfriend with your name and easy-to-recall details.

None of this is meant to skeeve you out, and I've never pretended that you were my boyfriend in any other context except for to get free things (which has never actually happened, but in case that ever comes up I just thought I should let you know that I would sell you out for something free like a cocktail wiener on a toothpick or an iPod or those socks with the toes and I HATE the socks with the toes, but hey, free).

I will probably put this on my blog after I change everybody's names because who else would do some crazy and inappropriate shit like this except for me? One day I'll be famous, and your name in my story will be changed to Doctor Cowboy Andrew Jackson and Tom*'s name will be changed to Tom Cruise, Jr. or maybe [redacted for it's closeness to Tom's actual name, this fake Tom not to be confused with real Tom who is my friend's roommate and has nothing to do with this story, what up, real Tom?].

The End.

*Names changed to protect the identity of anyone who may or may not be embarrassed.

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