So, where did we last leave off? Right. I’d planned the wedding (with the help of some friends). You see, my Pookie is like a deer caught in headlights when faced with something stressful or emotional and he admits to being a self-procrastinator. Had I wanted him to assist in planning this thing in any way, he’d simply have come up with a plethora of excuses why we should postpone it. “Will there be air? How do we know there’ll be air? What if NYC doesn’t have air that day? What if our friends are really body snatchers and part of an advance scouting expedition to take over the earth? Why are you looking at me like that? Why are you picking up the phone? Don’t you DARE call your mother!” My half Asian will involve his mother in an argument at the drop of a hat, but if I do it? He doesn’t like that and that tickles me. heh heh heh See? It tickles.
Anyway, I arrived in NYC Sunday morning on the 19th to find Pookie and Miss Kim waiting for me in baggage claim. I think it was in nervous anticipation of what was yet to come that he might have made a little quip at my expense, picking up his baggage and all. My annoyance didn’t show. More on that in a bit because there’s actually a reason for it. The three of us take a cab to the hotel, drop the luggage off because it was too early to check in, and head right back out. You see, it’s a sin to go somewhere and not head out the absolute exact moment we possibly can. Vacations aren’t made for relaxation, even when we have three days before an event such as ours. No, no. They’re made for go…go…go… And go we went, down the street one block.
Miss Kim praying that we actually found Macy's whilst Pookie thinks of something new to crab at me about.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Macy’s,” he informs me as if I should already know. Gay men apparently go there. It’s one of our Meccas.
“Which way?” Miss Kim asks.
“This way!” Pookie heads north a few steps and we follow. “No, wait.” He looks around. “This way.” He heads south a few steps and we follow. “This doesn’t look right.” The Pookster brings up the GPS on his phone, stares, turns, stares, turns and heads back north. “It’s this way.” And we follow a few steps. “This isn’t quite right.” We all stop and head south again.
Oh, there was something not quite right alright.
We finally manage to stumble across Macy’s and proceed to look around at things we have no intention of buying. This is one of his versions of fun. Seek out expensive items, then spend the next month scouring the Internet for the cheapest price humanly possible. Okay, I admit, he’s kinda cute about it. We grab some nibbles in their downstairs food court and he crabs at me a bit because deep down inside he knows I’m forcing him to do something on Wednesday he’ll ultimately like doing and enjoy–Asians HATE when their white guys make them do things they like and enjoy. Again, though, I show no reaction. Stay with me, because he’s about to figure out why.
Pookie decides to look around again and he and Miss Kim carry on a pleasant conversation while dodging annoying customers in the aisles. She is slightly amazed that I’m being so delightful and not responding to his jabs. He jokes and tells her that the last time I was like this was four years ago when I got Botox before a book tour. They laugh.
“I swear, he couldn’t look surprised, annoyed, irritated or anything else, kinda like when we were at the airport and then down…” He stops in his tracks and slowly turns to face me. “You haven’t shown the least bit of emotion since we met you at the airport. Make a face!”
“Make a face!”
“Don’t tell me ‘no’.”
“Make a face! You can’t, can you?”
It’s true. I can’t. heh heh heh I figured that if I was going to be taking lots of wedding pictures, I might want to look a little more camera-friendly. The hard part was not telling anybody and he was never supposed to catch on. Foiled again! Fortunately, it gives him a really good laugh, so all is unexpectedly well. Odd, that. Incidentally, the doctor who did the procedure informed me that Botox for men is now called Brotox. Just sayin’.
His phone rings–his mother has arrived–so we head back to the hotel to take our luggage up to the room and wait to meet her. She’s staying with us–yes, in the room and in the next bed–for the days we’re there. Is it my first choice? Honestly, no. But I can’t imagine telling her to get her own room either, especially since she sees so little of her son. She is fun company and has treated me very much like her third son ever since she found out about us. They’re so obviously mother and son, though, which you’ll come to see.
The rest of the day is spent going back to Macy’s–without the whiplash this time–then heading back to the hotel for Happy Hour. We’re talking $5 beers between 5-7pm. Still expensive, but it’s our first night there and why not splurge a little? I’ll tell you why. Because we no sooner got back from a sushi dinner a few doors down when she perks up with:
“I thought you said $5 Happy Hour?”
“I did. It was. We partook.” I liked summing things up like that. It made me sound resolute.
“It was 5 buck a beer.”
“I thought it was $5 for two hours, all the drinks we could drink?”
“Why would you think that?” As if Pookie-logic wasn’t bad enough.
“Thought it was cheap.”
Yes, folks, that’s one of her favorite, famous words I’d likely be hearing again and again throughout the upcoming week. Cheap. We’re talking about a woman who argued with me in a fish & chips restaurant in London because I wanted to buy 4 extra packs of tarter sauce for our dinner. She gave me a resolute ‘no’ and I bought them anyway. And the first thing Pookie asked when we brought the fish dinners back? That’s right. He asked if we got extra tarter sauce. I know my man! His mother? Still a little dodgy.
But, Monday would be a new day and our adventure had just begun…
Stay Tuned For Part 3
And, hey…psst! If you missed Part 1, it’s right here!
Kage Alan is the Tale of the Mummy watching, Frankie Goes To Hollywood listening author of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation,” “Andy Stevenson Vs. the Lord of the Loins” and the first book in a separate series, “Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell.” And, seriously, I had no idea this would really turn into a series. I just figure that anything worth telling is worth doing so in as complete a way as possible.