If that old saying that life imitates art does not have the worth of truth, then I’ll eat my hat.
GuyFriday has come to life via words, but behind all of the fluff and cheesecake and all those fantastic fashion choices I dare to wear, is real life and the art is my circle of best-guy friends.
Well of course, names have been altered, with some good lighting here and there, but the gist is factual, scouts honor.
Two of us planned to ring in this New Year with a perfect little bash, apartment style. Asian-fusion was the menu and paper lanterns hung overhead, offsetting a vintage Givenchy long-sleeve, Luke in Diesel, and Grady in a new winter-white purchase. A tiny bedroom walkup in Chelsea now glowed with glittery cheer as guests arrived.
That glow was not only in the air for the evening, but involved actual flames. My extra added flicker of small candles set off a mammoth blaze. On a Jason Alder table, a charred crackling centerpiece billowed with heavy black smoke, perfumed with the scent of bubbling plastic and boiling hummus. As Grady stood in complete utter shock, Luke found the ice bucket. Now if you don’t know Grady enough, his neurosis is damning, even borderline anal. Knowing this, Luke not only didn’t toss the bucket of ice water, but gently scattered handfuls of cubes, as if he were a flower-girl, skipping down the aisle, armed with petals…
I’m a clever guy, a quick-change with a bed sheet, nightstand and a recovered olive tray. A few splashes of water on poor Grady’s face didn’t return to his color, when we had to break in the bathroom door, as an innocent guest had jiggled the lock by mistake. The room was now filled with itchy red eyes and a lot of sour faces. One face, that of Luke, was busy with a tongue attached to a unknown body, tucked away in the kitchen. Will, playing bartender, and his date, with a tiny waist to die for, met me outside for a much-needed ciggy and chatter.
“What else could go wrong?”
“I can’t believe that Luke is making out with that guy!”
“Oh please, I tongued the beer bottle I gave to that other hot guy, who came in, before I gave it to him”
“Joey!”
“A fire, a broken door, and did you see that stain on Grady’s shirt? Red wine”
“P.S.,” I whispered, as we went back upstairs, “just wait till that cute guy gives me the bottle back, and what I’ll do with it!”
After the clean-up, as most of the guests, fearing for their lives, used the same excuse to escape before midnight, it was again just the four of us.
“The table! My favorite blanket! All the food! The broken door! My shirt!”
“It could have been worse, Grady. If we never had the fire, I would have never run into the kitchen for the ice and met that guy,” Luke stated.
“If it was not for the broken door, I would have never had the guts to talk to that really handsome fella I shared a beer with,” I blushed.
“True,” Will said. “If Joey didn’t want a cigarette, I would have never known that my date really likes me and wants to see where it goes for real.”
“So you see, Grady, it all worked out fine”
“Next time we decide to have a party, let’s charge at the door.”
We all looked at Grady in confusion.
“I don’t have renter’s insurance!”
Happy New Year from the fellas of GuyFriday!
