Like I Love You

Prof. Rodderick Buck jr. was presenting a paper at last year's American Anthropological Association meeting entitled "It's Not Gay if We Use a Condom: The Myriad Ways in Which Straight Males Functionalize Homosexuality", which had me rivited. Nothing could be further from the truth, actually. I found myself struggling to stay awake as my head was resting on the shoulder of my Norwegian companion, Mads, who was extremely tired himself. I think our wild partying was catching up with us.

Bits and pieces of the previous night's events floated into my mind. Coke off the back of a hooker with Tommy D and Donny... no, Dick, you shouldn't have any, it's bad for your heart... I hope I don't sound out of line, Condy, but you look hot in those knee-high black boots... who's Justin Timberlake CD is this?... I just want to hear one song, "Like I Love You"... I don't think egging John Kerry's is a good idea... just be limber, BA-by... you're so right, Condy, who needs the twins when we have a real woman like you... oh my God, Karl just threw another egg, I think I saw a light turn on... no, the hooker's not dead, she's just sleeping with her eyes open... no, I'm sorry Condy, we really need to go... just start walking, Mads, and don't turn around... there's nothing to tell, because the hooker's still alive... [OMD ringtone] hi John, yes, it's me... no, I didn't egg your house... you must be mistaken, that wasn't me... listen, John, this really isn't a good time... shit, the cops!... just act natural...

I felt a throbbing pain in my left shoulder. I put my hand under my shirt and rubbed it. It was covered in vaseline. I wiped it off on my jeans, then carefully pulled my shirt on that side down to my elbow. I saw a tattoo of a heart with a black high heeled boot in front of it. Underneath was written "[Me] and Condy 4-eva".