A Day at the Zoo
It was about a 40-minute drive to get to the museum and
our conversations ranged over a number of topics, mostly sexually tinged. When was your first time? How many girlfriends have I had? How many boyfriends have you had? Have you ever skinny-dipped before (his question)? I was a bit surprised to hear he was sexually
active at age 14 at summer camp with “a really hot lifeguard.” The lifeguard was older and straight, but it
was an all boys’ camp, so Parker had a captive audience. It occurred to me that he was a boy who usually
got what he wanted. Not that he was
spoiled or anything like that, but rather he could charm the pants off of just
about anybody…including me…literally.
Of course, he asked frequently
if I was going to tell him where we were going.
I told him it would ruin the surprise.
“I hate surprises,” he said.
“Like when I licked your
fingers in the theater?” I asked.
“Or more like when I opened
your underwear for the first time. Now
THAT was a surprise!” he added.
“OK. Did you hate those surprises?” I asked. “Nooooooo,” he said a little like a child
being taught a lesson.
“Then you just hate bad
surprises like any normal person would,” I said. “So just chill. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
When we showed up at the
museum, he looked puzzled. “Here?” he
asked looking at the entrance as if he needed some sort of prior approval to
enter.
“Yup,” I said placing my hand
on the back of his neck steering him toward the doors as we walked. “We’re gonna get you some cul-cha,” I said in
a mock aristocratic voice.
He was wearing a pair of
white-framed sunglasses on our walk from the car to the museum. He looked really good in them, like some sort
of actor or rock star. I told him to
keep them on inside the museum as we went to the booth to buy the tickets. We both bought our own tickets and got a map
to find our way around.
Rather than wait 30 minutes for
the next tour, we set out on our own and joined a tour already in
progress. No one seemed to notice that
we were interlopers. When the tour
ended, we circled back around on our own to catch the parts that we missed.
We had so much fun at the
museum like we were in our own world. I
saw a few people along the way sneaking peeks at Parker, giving him that “I
know he’s someone famous, I just can’t place it” look. He was a living work of art and people
noticed...or maybe it was the sunglasses…or maybe it was just my imagination.
We went around two rooms
looking at a variety of paintings and describing to each other how they made us
feel. At one point I was looking at a
very large painting and Parker had moved on to the next one standing beside a
middle-aged women. They were both
admiring a painting entitled Rape of Europa
by Titian. He described to her how it
made him feel as we had been doing. And
the woman began telling him about the symbolism and themes depicted in that
painting. He began asking her really
intelligent questions, so I was careful to hang back just within earshot so as
not to interrupt the exchange.
They went on to the next
painting and the next. She would
describe what was depicted in the scene, and he would ask questions. She was really good at answering his
questions and explaining a little bit about the painters. He then asked, “You certainly know a lot
about paintings. Do you work here?”
She laughed and told him she
actually worked at the Museum
of Fine Arts as a
paintings conservator. It was her day
off, so she was taking a look at some of the pieces they had at this
museum. She said that most of these
pieces were priceless and Boston
was very lucky to have such a unique collection in the city. “Mrs. Gardner, who passed away in the 1920s,
was one of the foremost female patrons of the arts and amassed a remarkable
collection, which we are seeing here in what used to be her home.”
“She lived here with all of
these paintings? Wow! Did you hear that?” he said turning around to
me.
“Yes, pretty amazing, huh?” I
replied.
She looked at her watch and
said, “Well, time’s up for me. I’ve got
to get going. I hope you enjoy the rest
of your visit here.”
“Thanks for being such a wealth
of information. You certainly heightened
the enjoyment of my museum experience,” Parker said. “Oh, and good luck at your museum.”
“You should come and visit
sometime. We have a lot of remarkable
pieces there, too,” she added.
“Yeah. We will, right?” he said looking at me.
“I think we could manage that,”
I said in response.
We ventured on and looked at
more paintings in more rooms wondering what it would have been like to live
there. Then Parker pushed me into an
alcove out of view of the public and kissed me long and full on the lips.
“Wow, that was a museum-quality
kiss,” I said in a hushed tone.
“Well, here’s another one for
later,” he said as his lips locked with mine once again.
“We’d better stop or I’m going
to have a museum-quality boner,” I said after our lips parted. “I doubt they’d want me walking around here
with that.”
“Hmm you’re right. I think that is one piece I’d like to keep in
my private collection,” he replied as he took hold of my arm and pulled me back
into the main hallway.
We walked and found ourselves
on a balcony overlooking the courtyard.
While we were looking down from above, Parker’s sunglasses fell off his
face and landed on some kind of tree below and got stuck there.
“Oh crap!” he stifled a yell.
I assessed the situation and
said, “Come with me, Sir. I believe I
can assist you.”
We quickly walked down the
stairs to the courtyard.
“Now which tree committed the
offense, Sir,” I began.
“That one right there,” he said
pointing and playing along.
“I see. If you could, please position yourself under
the glasses to catch them,” I instructed.
I scanned the area and when no
one was looking I gave the tree a quick shake.
The glasses slid down a bit.
“One more!” Parker whispered.
I repeated the process and
Parker caught the sunglasses when they dropped.
He rushed over to me and said
“My hero!” and gave me a peck on the cheek.
A few fellow patrons were watching the scene unfold and gave a golf clap
at the end. I took a quick bow and
whispered, “Let’s get the hell out of here before they arrest me for
manhandling their tree!”
“Sir, I thought you worked here,”
Parker replied.
“No, I actually work at the Museum of Fine Arts. We have a lot of remarkable trees there,
too,” I said as I whisked him away.
We were hungry so we found our
way to the café in the museum and sat down for a bite to eat. Our waitress was a pretty girl maybe 18 or 19
years old. She was really flirty toward
us, especially Parker. When she walked
away to put in our order, I posed a question.
“That waitress was really
pretty and I think she digs you,” I began.
“If she offered to have sex with you straight up, would you do it just
so you could experience it once with a girl?”
“Yeah, she seems nice, but sex
with a girl? I’d rather fuck a dead
donkey,” he declared.
“Oh c’mon, she’s much better
looking than a dead donkey,” I shot back.
“Well, all I know is I wouldn’t
be able to get it up for either,” he replied.
“What about you? Would you do it?”
Uh oh, I should have seen that
one coming. I had to tread lightly here.
“That would all depend. If I was single, probably. If I was taken, definitely not. If I like someone enough to be in a
relationship, that person would have to be very special to me. I would never screw that up by cheating,” I
tried.
“Well, that’s good that you’re
not a cheater. Neither am I,” he added.
At that point, the drinks
arrived, which gave me a chance to ponder.
Were WE in a “relationship?” No,
right? We were just dating. I was still free to see whoever I wanted… but
so was he. I didn’t like the thought of
that. I knew if I wanted to make things
less temporary, I would have to make a move soon…not today necessarily, but
soon. But did I want to make things less
temporary?
We ate our designer sandwiches
and our conversation circled back to the museum, our experience there, the
stolen masterpieces that were conspicuously missing, and Parker imitating the
tour guide who pronounced his “R”s as “W”s and called Parker “young man.” I once again listened politely and smiled
while I admired the parts of his face as he spoke.
After eating, we walked the
museum a little more and departed when they announced that they were closing
soon. We exited through the doors we
came in and retraced our steps back to the car.
I opened the passenger door first to let Parker in.
“You’re such a gentleman,”
Parker said and he deftly slid into the seat and reached over to pop open my
door.
“So did you enjoy your day at
the zoo, young man?” I smirked as I started the car.
“Yeah, I’ve never been to the
zoo before,” he replied.
© 2014 Rip Skor
© 2014 Rip Skor
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