Good as Gold

Mission 1. Hook up with someone as old as my mom (54) and as young as my sister (20) in a month.
Mission 2. Live a completely gay lifestyle (without the gay sex) for a month.
Mission Three: Live without an apartment for a month.
Mission Four: Reconnect.
Mission Five: Re-take the SATs.
Mission Five: Become a PUA (Pick Up Artist) and wing Cali to 5 F-closes.

I got a call last Wednesday around lunchtime. It was Alex who was up around Whistler working on a movie. I picked up the phone, wondering what he needed this time. He is quite needy when he's away from home.

“What’s up?” I answered.

“Nothing,” he said distractedly. I could tell he wanted to pace ahead with the small talk. So I made him work at it. Just like any good friend would.

“How’s it going up there?” I asked, stretching things out, being deliberately vague.

“Good, good, good,” he said, “Great weather.”

“Magic,” I answered. That’s a new word I’m trying to substitute for cool. I used to say “hot” all the time, but then Paris made it commonplace. Hopefully Copperfield won’t play this one out as well.

It didn't phase him.

“Rob, I need you to do something for me,” he said compactly.

“Yea, shoot.”

“There’s this place I’m interested in and it just came on the market Tuesday. I need you to check it out and see if it’s a piece of shit or not.”

“Seriously?” I asked, being taken back by his disclosure and his request. Was this his way of saying he was moving out?

“What the fuck? I go from being your landlord to your errand boy? You know I don’t like going into other people’s houses like this. And now you're moving out?"

“C’mon dude, I would fly back but I can't. My fucking assistant was trying to get a flight, but it’s not in the cards. Can’t do it. Please.”

“All right,” I said, "what do you need me to do?”

“Just meet this realtor lady there after work. It’s in Woodland Hills, just off Topanga, I'll have someone e-mail you directions."

“And what do you want me to say to the realtor?”

“Start with, ‘Hello, I’m Rob,’ and take it from there. Seriously dude, I just need you to check out the place, take some pictures and e-mail them to me. I never trust those realtor pics. They totally fake the angles. I should fucking know, I fake angles for a living.”

“Ok, I’m not signing anything, right? Just looking around, taking some pictures, shit like that?”

“Yea, yea, that’s all. If It looks good, I’ll deal with the agent from here.”

“Ok, you’re going to buy a house, sight unseen, based on my thumbs up?”

“That’s it in a nutshell, Robby.”

“All right. No pressure on me or anything. Well, I’ll take my time and check everything out.”

“You do that. Oh, and as an added fucking bonus, the realtor is smokin.’”

“Really? Did you meet her?”

I perked up.

“Na, not yet. Just saw her picture. It’s the blonde one with the fake fur thing.”

“The one we were checking out in the mag? Did you beat it to her?”

Note:(For as long as I've known Alex, he likes to masturbate to fully clothed women, preferably in business suits.)

“Jesus, of course. But don't fucking tell her. It would make things weird signing the papers and shit.”

“It makes it a bit weird for me.”

“Everything is weird for you Rob, you’re a fucking neurotic.”

“Whatever, I’m in. I was sick of having you around anyway. Just as long as you leave me the TV. I can't go back to my shitty Sharp."

"It's yours. Just do this for me."

"All right. By the way, I would bet my life that this chick is not even close to being as hot as she was in that headshot."

“Fuck that Rob, we both saw it.”

“Those were glamour shots. Every chick looks good."

“Why don’t you take a picture of her then.”

“Yea, I’ll do that.”

“I owe you one.”

I hung up the phone and laughed. I never say goodbye anymore. Is that rude?

Anyway, this house thing started to make sense. Alex was willing to buy a place because he wanted to meet the seemingly hot agent. And the rub was, he wasn’t even meeting her, I was.

I needed to take advantage of the situation. Hot or not, I made it my goal to close this woman. Alex was too proud to admit his libido-driven motives, and too stubborn to not see them through.

But for me, this was more than a drive to the Valley, it was an opportunity to try my game firsthand. And, as much as some people's game depends on appearance, I wanted to minimize that variable for me. So, I shaved the mustache into a strange trailor-like thing, and made my hair look like Jason Lee in Earl. If I can close a hot realtor looking like a trailer park reject, I can close anything. I may even go shirtless. Bitches love tattoos.

I called Daniel and explained the situation. He was in. I would pick him up around 5:30 and we would drive to the Valley to buy a house for Alex. He wasn't even phased by the request.

Gay wingmen are fucking gold.