Because the old school gay is fast becoming the new modern man, AKA William theater contributor Ben Rimalower will, now every Monday, document exactly how, when, and where everything old becomes new again.
Straddling the line between old school showbiz cheesiness and contemporary short attention span whateverness, Ben is the New Old Gay. He loves Patti LuPone.
This weekend, the day came at last when my roommate moved out and I got to take over the entire railroad apartment for myself, after sharing it with one person or another, for 10 years.
Unfortunately, I won’t be the only living thing in the place for the next couple of weeks, because, to update you on my post of few weeks ago (Bed Bugs and Scabies and Crabs, Oh My!), it has turned out that I actually have a bed bug infestation.
When I first began itching several months ago (!), my doctor had erroneously prescribed a scabies treatment, which I have dutifully applied several times now, following the directions to do all the dry cleaning and laundry and vacuum and spray.
The spray is what made this go on so long. It also kills bed bugs, just not all of them and not where they live, so each time I re-treated my purported scabies, I fended off the bed bugs for a couple of weeks, and it was only recently, after all this time that I finally saw one.
Slowly waking up one morning, I happened to glance over and see the little insect crawling on my hand. Revolted, my knee-jerk reaction was to jerk my hand away, shake it off, but then I realized I had to catch it, to obtain proof, for my landlord, for an exterminator, although somehow I knew exactly what it was.
As I scrambled to grab in a tissue, it burst open with my blood (Happy Halloween, you guys!!!) as a combination gesture of “Yes, I’m a bed bug, this is what we do,” and “Fuck you! Where’s your evidence now, biatch?”
November 4th, 2009 at 12:25 am
I had to keep a hanky handy the whole time I read this truly harrowing continuation of my(future)boyfriend’s bed bug ordeal, and to think that I wasn’t there(yet)physically (but at least in spirit) makes me sob all over again! It was only when I got to the end that I was able to stop the waterworks thanks to his declaration of survival and the sheer conviction of his(amazingly hairy)will power.
Bless his little LuPone heart.