We can never go home again-THANK GOD!

(The following is from Tami)
I'm back. I've been so very busy at work during the day and making drag queen costumes at night - I apologize to my beautiful, caring, insanely right-wing cousin for causing worry and the need for conservative backlash.

Anyway, I must relate a story about a man who found me attractive this weekend. It all started at the restaurant where the drag show is performed. I went to the bar to get a soda before the show and was smiling a broad smile, happy with my life thus far (foreshadow). There was mid-40's man, handsome is a Margaretaville-Not-Generally-My-Type kind of way, and he said to me, "You must be very happy with a smile like that." (truth be known, I am very happy with my smile, but I don't think he meant it that way) We started into chatting and I found out a lot about him - probably because he was his own favorite topic. Still, he wasn't offensive and seemed bright and easygoing, so I invited him to the show next week as my guest and we exchanged numbers.

After a lovely afternoon with my (maternal) grandparents, I came home to a phone message from Mr. Parrothead. He was sitting on the beach looking out at the Pacific and wanted me to call him. That was around 3:30. I picked up the message at 6:00 and gave him a call back. He asked what I'd been up to (gasp) and he told me what he'd been up to (he did let me respond before he told me about his day, by the way). He asked me what part of town I lived in and I told him the north part. He told me he was currently living in a camper (truck-bed model) in a gated trailer park in Lake Stevens. "You live in Lake Conner Park?!?" I choked. "Yeah, you know it?" he replied.

Know it...I grew up about a mile away from it. Lake Conner Park is where the hoipoloi of Trailer Dwellers live. It is indeed a gated community with not one, but two pools. It always seemed like a forbidden paradise to me as a child - you couldn't enter unless you were a member or a friend of a member. But once out of the '70's I realized that trailer parks were not as glamorous as Good Sam Club and KOA would lead you to believe. You see, around that time I had (maternal) family who actually moved into a trailer park - The reality of mobile home living wasn't, um...well...needless to say, the illusion was shattered.

Anyway, back to our story of romance...After explaining our 6 degrees of physical separation, I asked if he had any children. "One son. He's 8 and lives with his mother in Arizona." "You must miss him," I said. "Yeah, but it's for the best. I never wanted kids. I'd say he was an accident, but I don't believe in accidents, but there was no need for me to be there and I hate Arizona. I go down to see him about four times a year. He really misses me." Here is the image that was going through my mind, "?!?!?!?!?!?????!!!!!". So you're saying to yourselves, "Of course you told him that your cat was on fire and you really needed to get off the phone, right?" but no I didn't. And you want to know why I didn't? Because I'm a dunce.

He said he was going to be at the beach for another hour, but how'd I like to get a coffee or drink or something. I said, "Sure, call me when you leave the beach." He said he'd call me in an hour. Three hours later I get a call from him. He apologized for not calling sooner. He got side tracked watching the sunset. He described the beauty and majesty to me and I started to think he was less a jerk then an insipid narcissist until he ended with, "...then I went into a bar to watch the end of the ball game and have a beer. So do you still want to go out for a drink tonight?" I told him that I was going to bed early tonight so we should try again another time. He asked if we were still on for the show Saturday. Ugh.

I'll keep you posted my darlings.