The ferry was empty because who the hell would be going to Provincetown in the rain? Me. So typical, the man who hiked in and out of the Grand Canyon in one day because he liked the challenge, the man who moved his entire Los Angeles apartment with a U-Haul by himself because he thought it would build character. And now the man on his summer vacation with his first trip to P-town in sheets of rain and rolling ocean swells because he thought it would be fun.
When the fairy docked (that would be me), I saw only a handful of people waiting for us disembarking passengers-- and then I saw the Cheshire grin of my friend Bill. College roommate and partner in crime only 6 years ago, Bill still had his goofy smile that could make the most hardened hearts laugh. We walked arm and arm in the rain as he escorted me down Commercial Street, the main drag of Provincetown, completely empty of tourists.
"Where are all the men?" I asked.
"You know queens and rain, honey."
And right in the middle of the street Bill did a flawless performance of the Wicked Witch melting, complete with sound effects and camera angles. He was getting soaked, but what did he care? He was performing-- which was what brought him to P-Town in the first place. The show was called "Boyz"-- an original cabaret revue about, you guessed it, men. Bill had a spare couch in his little Cape Cod bungalow and welcomed me to stay for 5 days before my departure down to New York City-- and an orchestra seat to RENT. But for now it was about experiencing what this Los Angeles native had only heard about, read about, and fantasized about the mythical gay Mecca of Provincetown.
After 4 days of walking on the dunes, riding Bill's rusted Schwinn along the bike paths, and laying by a swimming pool-- I was bored. Now don't get me wrong, I love men. But the scene of cruising bars and one-night stands has never really appealed to me. So in the evenings while Bill did his show, I wandered aimlessly through the crowded streets of men. Never really a very good flirt, I wasn't comfortable standing in a bar or nightclub by myself and making small talk. It just, seemed...well...forced. But suddenly I found myself on my last night in town not having had a "Provincetown experience."
I felt like an old lady about to adopt some stray cats.
The bar was crowded as I sipped my mineral water in the corner, looking out at the dance floor because I, like most people, didn't know where else to stare. And then I saw him-- a really cute guy across the room. Should I make my move? Do I dare? I paused, thinking I'd end up talking about something stupid-- like what is the fruit in Juicy Fruit. I continued to wait until with every bone in my body I mustered the courage to cross the room. What would my opening line be? Just as I reached Mr. Right, a guy next to him suddenly began to gab. Taken!
The game show buzzer in my head went off exclaiming "L-O-S-E-R!"
I stepped to the back of the bar, realizing it was time to go home when suddenly I felt someone next to me. I turned and saw a man lift his drink to his mouth and take a slow sip-- calm and reserved-- and I realized he was drinking a mineral water. Suddenly I became a teenage girl, thinking to myself, "Oh my God! He's drinking a mineral water too! It's a sign!" I calmed the Gidget in me and pondered for something to say. Suddenly the music changed and some bad remake of a Supremes song filled the room.
"Are they ever going to stop remaking this stuff?" I said.
He looked at me and smiled. "I know. It's just the same song over and over these days." I could tell by the way he said that he was comfortable. He was present. He was...cute. Holy shit, he was beautiful! Strong All-American features, wavy brown hair, cleft chin, and the bluest eyes and longest eyelashes I'd ever seen. And he was talking to me! Moi? We continued to chat but I was persistent to see if he could keep up. I was honest, saying this was my first night out in 5 days and that I really wasn't into "the scene." And he smiled again, kind of shy-- actually, adorably shy-- saying he lived locally and that he never goes out that much either.
Suddenly the game show buzzer replied "W-I-N-N-E-R."
His name was Shawn and his Robert Redford goodlooks and honest smile, needless to say, intrigued me. He took me to several clubs, showing me the different places to go but could tell my interest was waning in the disco lights, the pretty boys, and the cigarette smoke.
"Listen..." he said, pausing. "Want to go for a canoe ride through the bay?"
G-R-A-N-D P-R-I-Z-E W-I-N-N-E-R!
I followed him to his home which turned out to be a local inn he managed, where he introduced me to some staff who I knew were sizing me up and down as perhaps their boss' routine trick. We went out back to the shore where he dropped a cobweb covered canoe into the water. He shared, "This is my first time out on the water all season." While I may be a trick, I realized this was no routine.
Soon we were paddling into the darkness of the bay, the soft sounds of the busy shore behind us and only the soft gurgling of the water beneath. He slowly he inched his way up behind me, the full moon reflecting off the water and across his chiseled face.
We kissed. Tender, passionate, intimate-- and sexual. He wasn't afraid to look in my eyes and I returned the dare. We just sat there, holding each other and staring at the bay.
"Wow. Phosphorus." he said. He put his hand in the water, his long fingers swirling in the water below, creating lines of green light. At that moment I realized no matter how long this night was going to last, I would remember it.
We went back to his room and with the lights on-- made both love and sex-- finally falling asleep around 4 am covered in sweat and something wonderfully sticky.
Later that morning, as Bill walked me to the bus station, we passed the Inn. Shawn waved from his office, staring, and suddenly I felt horribly sad-- a wonderful man I had met and that was now about to become only a memory.
The bus sat in the parking lot which would take me to Manhattan in 6 hours and RENT that evening. I paused, realizing I didn't want another nice memory. I suddenly opened my suitcase, spilling clothes and toiletries across the pavement. "Oh no," I exclaimed. "I'm going to miss my bus." Bill looked at me, wondering what the hell I was doing.
I stood on the street, staring at the window until Shawn saw me. He became perplexed, looking at his watch, and then walked out onto the porch. "What happened?" he exclaimed.
"I missed my bus."
We both smiled, realizing why. I ended up staying in Provincetown for another two days, moved there for two months and fell madly in love with Shawn. Unfortunately, this long distance relationship between LA and the Cape eventually crashed under it's own weight. But I ended up having a Provincetown experience I'll never forget. And a man who I am still friends with.
The game show buzzer still exclaims, perhaps someday, "B-O-N-U-S R-O-U-N-D."
I hope I win a canoe.