Gifts From a Mormon

Pete bought me a Mercedes, and then a Mountaineer after I sold it. Andrea bought me a beautiful black Coach wallet. Charlie bought me a three thousand dollar white upholstered bed at Le Diff. Shaun bought me a laptop, and Mark bought me a platinum watch. My parents have dropped hundreds of thousands on rehabs, attorneys, and doctors.

The nicest gift I ever got was from a Mormon who got kicked out of Bringham Young University for being gay. I guess its still 1950 in Utah, you can fuck five women at the same time but not men. I was staying at the Aloft Hotel when I met Mike.

Misty kicked me out for taking a whole bottle of Ativan and reorganizing my drawers with Dan Akroyd’s niece. She didn’t have anything against well placed socks, just the pills.

Anyways this kid Mike, he wasn’t insanely good looking, but he had big blue eyes. We’d been on two dates. Once in my trendy hotel room, the other at Chick-fil-A (ironic, think about it). If I’m being honest I only invited him there so he could pay. All my cards were maxed out, and I’d just gotten a new car.

I mentioned that I missed my books terribly, which were in a storage unit two states away. I was surrounded by people but desperately lonely, living a triple life, blaming everyone else as usual.

Months later, he picked me up at Pretrial Services a couple of days before my birthday. Why I was there this time who can say, second, third DUI? I can’t keep track anymore and its not important.

I just remember he left work early so I wouldn’t have to walk, back to Shauns, always back to Shaun. He had paid my bail – you don’t want to know how much. I got in Mike’s old Toyota, and it was on the floor mat, wrapped in brown packing paper, ‘Happy Birthday Nick!’ , scrawled across the front in red Sharpie. I tell him he shouldn’t have, what I always say but never mean.

When I tear off the paper I’m looking at my favorite book by Vonnegut, my favorite author, my best dead friend.

We pull into Shauns and there’s tears streaming down my face. Mike doesn’t know what to say. I thank him and get out of his car. How can I love someone I just met?

I never call him again.

Besides, he can’t love me, I’m not real.