I understand why he travels so much—what he’s really doing is running away from those memories.
-Stefan Zweig
“The Post-Office Girl”
Twenty-five years ago today:
June 6, 1985
Thursday
I arrived at my parking lot in San Francisco early despite my going to bed late. I think I was on the phone with Rachelle until midnight. I need to call about a calling plan to Castro Valley tomorrow. My frequent calls there are getting out of hand.
When Dale arrived at the parking lot I had a few questions—or should I say a few confrontations. I accused him of lies and deceit. The 1983 song from the Thompson Twins is ringing in my head.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-x3TMBeX-ws
I asked Dale pointedly, “What exactly and Why exactly did you talk to Rachelle about me and Ryan?”
Dale reasoned, stuttered and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, Rachelle asked me about my relationship with Ryan. I was dumbfounded. She said that you had asked her if I had ever told her about Ryan and myself.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh…and the only thing I could think to tell Rachelle was that Ryan’s ex, Ron, kind of liked me and wanted to do some things with me…but I told her that Ron and I never did anything.”
“I see,” Dale stated, acting as if he knew nothing.
“Then she asked me about my disease that you claimed that I have now! That stupid lie really pissed me off.”
“No, I never said either of those statements!”
All of this has led me to believe that Rachelle surely has an inquiring mind and wants to know. She knows how to fish for information. It’s no wonder Dale sees ‘himself’ in her.
Dale and I went to that Burrito place again near Union Square. He had some things on his mind.
“Michael, I’m unhappy with Dee.”
“Did you ask for a divorce or anything like that?”
“Not yet—but I love Andrew a lot. And between you and Rachelle AND Ryan and Joe I have a lot of wheelin’ and dealin.”
I laughed because I know he loves the involvement. I also think that he envies our relationships.
“What else is on your mind?” I asked.
“Well, you know my brother, Paul?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m suspicious that he may be having an affair with our newly introduced half-sister, Kim. In fact, I am sure of it and I’m not sure what to do.”
“That’s crazy.”
“I think it’s disgusting. I mean, it’s literally incest.”
Dale and I spoke during our last break and I think he is distraught over his mixed feelings and vibes between him and our second line manager, Larry.
Dale asked, “Are we still going to take that trip to San Diego in July?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“I’m thinking of taking Andrew and leaving to another state like Florida…or Hawaii. I’m not sure. I just want to get out of our office to spite Larry and for my own self.”
“Running away doesn’t solve anything, Dale. And starting a new life in another city is never the answer. You’d always want to vacate and go back to California or wherever. I know that’s how it would be. My short-distant move to Sacramento proved that.”
I started to think of the song “I RAN” by Flock of Seagulls from 1982.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUjIA3Rt7gk
Dale and Ryan went to aerobics class together. I wanted to go to my own gym last night and tonight but I promised Rachelle I would appear for her Certification ceremony as a Physical Therapy’s Aid Trainee tonight. She kind of upset me. She asked, “What are you going to wear?”
“Why?”
“I just don’t want you to wear your white cap, any boots or your suspender pants or those yellow shorts that Ryan bought you,” Rachelle blurted.
“Look…I wear what I want to wear.”
I thought, “I hope she loves me for what I am and NOT what I do or do not wear.”
I spoke to Ryan today.
“I’ll be joining you guys next Tuesday or Thursday for aerobics.”
“Great,” Ryan said.
I think it will be fun and rewarding in the long run.
I drove to Michael Bruno’s of San Francisco to buy the matching genuine leather journals that originated from A and M Leatherlines in New York, NY. I bought two of them. I have a nice black one for me and a red one (the excitement color) for Rachelle. I had Rachelle’s wrapped with ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ written on it.
Due to traffic difficulties I arrived home at 6:20PM. I had to rush and get ready for Rachelle’s ceremony. I wore my Khaki Calvin Klein pants and a short-sleeved summertime shirt. I arrived at the MARIN Career Center in good time. Rachelle was in the blue turquoise dress that we almost bought at MACY’s last week. She looked tall, beautiful and HOT. Sometimes I am in awe of her looks. I re-met her mom, dad, Grandma, girlfriend Heidi, and was introduced to Rich, her pal and Physical Therapist connection.
The awards were given in a junior high school Auditorium setting. It was nice. I applauded for Rachelle. I am very proud of her. She’s a success story of only about twenty graduates out of a class that started with fifty students. I am so impressed and proud of her ambitions. I love her more and more. After the awards we got together for cookies and punch. We gabbed for a while. Then she and Heidi followed me to the Black Angus. The girls were carded there, so we moved to another area. They never came by to serve us, so we moved on to Red Robin where we shared potato skins and laughed up a storm. Rachelle and I exchanged kisses a number of times.
I wonder where Rachelle and I will lead to in the end. I am recalling the conversation I had with her mom. Her mom casually mentioned the phrase ‘when Rachelle has kids’. Her mom also said something about her ‘working full-time or part-time before or while she’s married’. I knew her mom kind of knew where my head was at and I thought she was giving me signals. I would like to marry Rachelle. The question is will it happen now? Rachelle has a lot of questions—I am sure---about my ‘sordid’ past (as Dale likes to describe it).
Rachelle keeps saying, “It doesn’t matter.”
Then she suddenly loves and yearns to hear about every damn detail. Maybe that is why I love her. She’s the only gal I’ve ever dated that has known.
Dale said, “I’m going to write a book with three sections…The Dale Story, The Michael Story and The Ryan Story…and then let Dale, Michael and Ryan merge as three close friends and ‘then some’ to be announced.”
I couldn’t help but laugh and say, “Sounds like a hot story to me.”
I added, “I know I’ll have to clear up a lot of your writing with my red pen with corrections galore.”
He smirked.
After the excursion at Red Robin we departed ways.
“I’ll call you at ten forty-five,” I said to Rachelle, as I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already 10PM.
I stopped by mom’s house. She’s on vacation this week. I’ve barely stopped by to visit, so I was kind of feeling bad about that. She seemed lonely but she was watching a VCR movie that she’d taped. I love mom. I love spending time with her because she is so damn fun. But now Rachelle has entered my life and I feel and want to spend more time with her. I hope mom understands.
Mom asked, “Are you coming over tomorrow?”
“No, because I’m going to that A’s game.”
Mom wouldn’t admit it but I know in the back of her mind she’d love me to stay with her to watch a flick or something.
I received a nice, surprise and “clincher of a last line” letter from Paloma today. She misses California and mentioned being jealous of Rachelle but not sure why. She wrote that she’d gone out with some guy but it is ‘yucky’ for her and has already started to hate him for practically planning and forcing seriousness between the two too fast. She’s working regularly and feels more out of shape than she had before. She can’t seem to feel the independence in Paris as she did here. That means she couldn’t go out by herself like she often did when she went to the I-BEAM to dance. She also wrote of the predicament of her never having spent the night with me, claiming it was my fault because I never really showed my feelings. As I backtrack in my mind I did feel shunned from her. The closing line Paloma wrote was a surprise and such a GREAT line:
“Tell me, what do you think about having a baby?”
PHOTO: Paloma, 1985
I spoke to Rachelle and I know she was just talking to Dale about me. We were supposed to have a three-way conversation without Dale’s knowledge. I was on the line but Rachelle denies being on the line. I have a sneaking suspicious that they’re talking now and Dale’s making his influential speeches about my past sexual behavior along with my current fascination for her.
Now that Rachelle knows these startling facts about me I want to give Paloma a chance to learn, see and analyze her reaction. I think I will! I’ll write her a controversial letter on Saturday—or even tomorrow—if I have time. I will spill my life as I recall it. Perhaps Paloma’s open-mindedness will be more rewarding for me.
I just telephoned Rachelle and she pissed me off. We had a conspiracy idea to gang up on Dale and now I almost want to cry. I called Dale and there was no answer on his phone at 11:30PM only because he’s ignoring his call waiting (me). I did the same on Rachelle’s line and she ignored me as well. Finally, Rachelle answered and she accused me of lying to her, going on about Craig of Palm Springs and how he went down on me and gave me ‘head’ in Hawaii. And how I got f%*#k’d before.
“As if you never did anything else, making me believe you didn’t enjoy it,” Rachelle shouted.
I couldn’t believe she was getting so graphic and to top it off I knew she was talking to Dale about me.
I have a good mind to NOT speak to either one of them because I am so damn pissed. I couldn’t hold back as I telephoned Dale.
“I’m talking to Rachelle and she tells me that she’s talking to Jim DeLoures of Walnut Creek,” Dale said.
I cannot take the shouting, the bickering. I hung up.
I thought, “This relationship is not going to work. I want to CHOP IT right now—even though she says nothing has changed. I despise her monotone voice. The hatred she flung at me by wanting to make me feel that big (tiny) and embarrassed of it all. That is how I feel in discussing my homosexual experiences. Why can’t she accept US for what WE are now and forever hold her peace? If she continues to bring this up and hold it—the least bit—against me I do NOT want any part of it…or her for that matter. If she can’t accept my strong hold of love for her perhaps another woman will.”
And as for Dale I thought, “He tells of his analysis but only I know myself the bottom line. He has no business discussing my personal feelings based on his narrow-minded opinions. I sometimes hate the bloated Pillsbury dough man ‘IN’ him! He’s full of too much hot air for me to handle. My intent right now is to forever relinquish NOT one more word to him or Rachelle. I can bet that Rachelle will call to chew me out for no reason only because of Dale’s idiosyncrasies that bring value to her—not me! It is midnight and time for me to turn in. I’ll let my journal know if she calls me back and what we talk about. If we argue she’s a BITCH because there’s no point in it. I’m tired of trying to defend myself. I don’t need either one of them. Perhaps my new journal will begin with another name other than Rachelle. She’s too young and perhaps Dale’s right in one respect. She’s a bit too naïve.”
So I can finish this diary, and GOD only knows if I shall ever begin another. If I do, or if I even open this again, it will be to deal with different people and different themes, for here at the end, where the romance of my life is told, ere I go back to take up the thread of my life-work, I say sadly and without hope.
-Joseph Conrad
“The Secret Agent”
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