My Gay Friend Drew

I have this friend… his name is Drew. I met him under the strangest of circumstances. There I was, in the forest behind Store 24 (kids, do you party there anymore? Seriously… awesome fire circle. You should go. But keep it clean, in accordance with the natural order of things). So anyway… I was there, chilling out, playing guitar, drinking beer, and there was this crazy Black man scuttling around. He eventually sidled up and introduced himself. Here is an approximate re-enactment of this meeting.

Drew: Hi, I’m Drew, I do things.

Scott: …

Drew: *drinks beer* Guitar is awesome!

Scott: Yeah. Nice to meet you Drew.

Now, I had been aware of Drew’s existence for some time. In my mind, he was named ‘that crazy black dude in front of Buckley’ If you went to school at uconn in the late 90s or early Aughts, you probably also know him as such. The Cove (alcove) was his personal fiefdom, where he sang songs and scammed cigarettes off of strangers. Now, these days, it’s been blocked off, due to some silly security initiative. Different times, different places. Maybe someday I’ll go back to Uconn, and then do a post about what’s changed. At any rate… I had friends in Buckley, and the cove is where I smoked. And I am sure that I bummed at least one or two smokes to Drew even back then, cause I’d be smoking, and he’d ask. So… I was aware of his existence, but not on any personal level.

Then was the night in the woods with the beer and the fire. Primal, baby… primal. And somehow he got a hold of my Screen name, and we began a year or so of random, monosyllabic small talk. This was my fault. In those elder days (and even now, to an extent) I warmed up very slowly to new people. VERY slowly. And then… after a year. I warmed up. Completely randomly, I began talking back at length. He was working at Uconn; I was in the area… so I stopped up and visited. We went to Schmedley’s pub and drank beers. He took a random picture of me lighting a cigarette. And the rest… is a jumbled piece of history. He moved to Windsor… I worked in Windsor… we never actually got together while this was happening… a year goes by. The next summer, Drew and I hung out A LOT. Like… a whole lot. For about a week straight he lived at my place… we both thought it was weird, but we were both too shy to bring it up. And then he went to Tolland. And stayed there for like 7 months. Now, he lives in Boston. I don’t see him nearly enough, and I miss him and want him to come home, although I am happy that he’s living out his dream, and stuff.

At some point in this several year span, Drew revealed to me that he was gay. It was weird…. At first. I’ve never had many gay friends… nor had I had many black friends (well, one. But she’s another story altogether.) But hey… whateveh. It’s not like I turn folks away for being different than I am. On with the story.

This is what surprised me about Drew being gay. He is… one of the most ‘dude’ dudes I know. He is an unrepentant drunkard and foul mouthed hategiver. He digs on the Sox and Football, and listens to Jazz with an ear I could only hope to one day approach. He burps. He skips showers and wears the same clothes all the time. His BoSox cap is rakishly cocked toward the back of his head, as if he were ready for a knife fight. (the rakishness should have tipped me off earlier, I suppose.)

Drew taught me that gay people are EVERYWHERE! Lurking in corporate offices, serving me drinks, making my socks, eating my food, smoking my cigarettes, sleeping on my couch. And hey… I’m ok with this. I’m not one to go around telling people what they should or shouldn’t do behind closed doors (or in bar bathrooms).

Drew also informed me that I’m the white devil and I should be brought to trial for my various and sundry crimes against humanity. Well, not in so many words. We often have discussions about what life would be like with different colored skin, and how much easier or more difficult some things would be.

Drew taught me that I’m a whiny bitch for being all sad that no girls like me. He puts it like this… “Imagine all the girls in the world… now… eliminate 99 percent of them… and those are MY chances of finding love and happiness.” This puts things into perspective, and causes me to want to get off of my whiny bitch ass.

Drew puts lots of things into perspective. His wisdom is at times shortsighted, and he does have an annoying desire to be right… but it is wisdom nonetheless. There are few others I know who I’d go to for advice about life before him… although it is humorous to note that Drew is COMPLETELY useless when it comes to advice about fashion or interior design. He has gay flashes about such things, much in the same way I have sporadic fits of literary creativity.

Drew’s unflinching honesty about all things is at first a bit frightening. I mean, he offers an unobstructed mirror to people who would rather not peer into such a surface. If left to our own devices, we’d likely speculate about what we’re like, and chuckle to ourselves in our ivory towers. Drew will tell the truth. He’ll tell you if you’re a douchebag, or if he is of the opinion that you are being a liar. Drew is honest, and his honesty keeps us honest, if we’re willing to hear him.

Drew is hilarious. I’ve met funnier people, but I can’t remember them right now. Random, scathing, jabbing, piercing, acerbic wit. Even his humor offers people a look at themselves that they wouldn’t normally take. That is, when he’s not obsessed with eating babies. Can’t help but laugh at the way Drew can make a simple walk through Boston seem like a madcap adventure.

Most of all… Drew is there for me. More than most others… he’ll listen to me whine incessantly about my troubles… and I’ll interrupt him when he has something to say, and he’ll be unusually longsuffering about it. Then he’ll refuse to accept my apology when I admit to being an interrupting asshat. Then we’ll go eat hamburgers. Sure, he’s difficult to reach sometimes, and he’ll occasionally forget to contact me during game 1 of the series, and every so often, he’ll completely forget he promised to do something with me… but all that fades with the knowledge that he means well, and shit… I also fail sometimes. I know I’ve been really tired when he needs someone and I’ve gone to sleep, and I’ve felt bad about it. But rest assured… if he ever needed something, even with him in Boston… if he was really in a pickle… I’d be up there in two hours. And I know he’d do the same for me if it was in his power.

Maybe you know some of these things about Drew already. I suspect you realize he’s hilarious… and honest. Maybe you’re just meeting Drew for the first time in this post. Maybe you think he’s just some callous drunkard who tried to feel you up at RAPS. Maybe you only remember the DP Dough song. Maybe, just maybe, you’re aware of his penchant for long walks in which he contemplates the universe. Regardless… he’s fuckin badass, and when the gays or blacks finally start the revolution, I know whose attic I’m staying in.

You go, Drew.

You fuckin GO!