Unforgettable in every way.
And forevermore that's how you'll stay.
That's why darling it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable, too
"Unforgettable"
-Natalie Cole with her father Nat King Cole in a remixed recording
Since rekindling my neglected friendship with Wayne at Christmastime, I had been visiting him often at his small loft apartment in South Providence. I had no interest in trying to date him romantically again; we'd tried that for all of a week back in 1990 and I felt no spark so I quickly let that fizzle and fell out of touch with him. His place was a convenient location to get together with him and go out to the clubs. If I needed to, which I usually did, I could stay the night on his couch.
I knew Wayne was looking for a new best friend since his former one was quite literally killing himself in a downward spiraling alcoholic frenzy which Wayne was ill-equipped to handle. At the time, Wayne didn't know of my own issues with alcohol since I had only come to the realization of my problem drinking a short time ago. He saw me as a stabilizing force in his circle of friends. While that circle was vast, no one stood out as potential BFF material but me.
While he may have seen stability in me, I too saw him as a stalwart icon of responsibility, virtue, honesty and positivity. Just what I needed, especially if I were going to tackle this monkey on my back.
By February, Wayne and I had been out to the clubs together on most weekends and hung out doing other things like shopping, restaurants and movies. Though not dating romantically, we were becoming like two peas in a pod. We already had our favorite restaurant (Siam Square on Thayer St.), our favorite store (The Gap at Emerald Square Mall), and our favorite club (Twelve Caesars).
One Sunday morning I walked up to his apartment and after he saw I was limping a bit he asked why I left him alone at the club the night before and if I was okay. I recalled the events of the previous night for him. While we were at the bar I noticed a well-defined young Latino boy and struck up a conversation with him. One thing led to another and I drove him all the way to my apartment in Woonsocket. There he proceeded to screw me 'till the sun came up. I had just finished dropping him off at his Providence house.
Wayne laughed, now knowing why I was walking funny though he did gently admonish me for not letting him know I was leaving. I apologized and remarked that I wanted to get him to my place as soon as possible since it was comparatively such a long drive. I think that's when we both came up with the idea that we should find an apartment and move in together.
So for the next few weeks we visited many prospective rentals. Because we were set on staying under a certain budget, we were shown all sorts of creepy places including one basement apartment where you had to enter through the landlords kitchen and another where the walls were all painted black. Just when it was looking like there'd be nothing of suitable quality in our price range we found a large and recently-renovated first-floor apartment in a tenement in the Chalkstone Avenue area.
It was no East Side (the desirable upper-class neighborhood surrounding Brown University) but the rent was cheap and the interior of the house was gorgeous. The huge kitchen had honey-stained teak wainscoting, fresh contemporary wallpaper, a large faux-granite countertop with a huge peninsula featuring stool seating, newer all-black appliances, and recessed lighting. The living/dining room was freshly painted, had beautiful original hardwood floors and lots of windows. The two bedrooms were large and also had hardwood floors. The larger bedroom had a huge walk-in closet, but the smaller bedroom had a rather tiny closet. The bathroom was also small, but decent. Wayne and I fell in love with it immediately.
The landlord was a yuppie investment banker for Merrill Lynch. He seemed fair and intelligent, such a refreshing difference from some of the other renters we'd visited over the past few weeks. Wayne asked him up front, bold and unabashedly if he had any problem renting to two gay gentlemen. We had discussed this ahead of time and since Rhode Island, unfortunately, was one of the many states that had no provisions in rental laws regarding the non-discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, we felt it was necessary to be forward about that up front rather than be evicted, legally, simply for being gay if the landlord later "found out".
We moved in in March and Wayne spent lavishly to decorate and furnish our new home. Wayne bought a gorgeous beveled-glass octagonal dining table with armless Jacquard silk upholstered chairs, a black-lacquered 6-piece bedroom set and all the window treatments for each room except my bedroom. As well as woolen rugs, framed art, and side chairs for the living room. Add to this the furniture he already had, namely the Jacquard silk loveseat, glass and plaster end tables, and his rather large ceramic mask collection and his contribution to our house was well valued in the neighborhood of about $10,000. I at least contributed a 27" RCA TV, a Super Nintendo, some other artwork for the walls and a torchiere lamp...about $500...total. And actually, Wayne didn't make much more than me. I was just a heck of a lot cheaper.
We did have our first roommate squabble though over decor. We both wanted to pitch in together and buy enough glass bricks from a home improvement store in order to fashion a dividing wall between the living room and dining room areas. We disagreed on how this would be laid out and neither of us was willing to yield on each other's respective designs. So after a heated but short-lived tiff, we decided to not make any wall at all. (Until I built my version, albeit with even more permanent material such as drywall, a couple of years later after Wayne had moved out)
After we'd finished the move in and decking out of our new apartment, Wayne couldn't wait to show it off so we threw a huge house warming party. It was the first of many memorable parties both large and small we'd have at Rosebank.
It was, like the title of the song that Wayne and I memorably sang together during the karaoke portion of the party, unforgettable.
And forevermore that's how you'll stay.
That's why darling it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable, too
"Unforgettable"
-Natalie Cole with her father Nat King Cole in a remixed recording
Since rekindling my neglected friendship with Wayne at Christmastime, I had been visiting him often at his small loft apartment in South Providence. I had no interest in trying to date him romantically again; we'd tried that for all of a week back in 1990 and I felt no spark so I quickly let that fizzle and fell out of touch with him. His place was a convenient location to get together with him and go out to the clubs. If I needed to, which I usually did, I could stay the night on his couch.
I knew Wayne was looking for a new best friend since his former one was quite literally killing himself in a downward spiraling alcoholic frenzy which Wayne was ill-equipped to handle. At the time, Wayne didn't know of my own issues with alcohol since I had only come to the realization of my problem drinking a short time ago. He saw me as a stabilizing force in his circle of friends. While that circle was vast, no one stood out as potential BFF material but me.
While he may have seen stability in me, I too saw him as a stalwart icon of responsibility, virtue, honesty and positivity. Just what I needed, especially if I were going to tackle this monkey on my back.
By February, Wayne and I had been out to the clubs together on most weekends and hung out doing other things like shopping, restaurants and movies. Though not dating romantically, we were becoming like two peas in a pod. We already had our favorite restaurant (Siam Square on Thayer St.), our favorite store (The Gap at Emerald Square Mall), and our favorite club (Twelve Caesars).
One Sunday morning I walked up to his apartment and after he saw I was limping a bit he asked why I left him alone at the club the night before and if I was okay. I recalled the events of the previous night for him. While we were at the bar I noticed a well-defined young Latino boy and struck up a conversation with him. One thing led to another and I drove him all the way to my apartment in Woonsocket. There he proceeded to screw me 'till the sun came up. I had just finished dropping him off at his Providence house.
Wayne laughed, now knowing why I was walking funny though he did gently admonish me for not letting him know I was leaving. I apologized and remarked that I wanted to get him to my place as soon as possible since it was comparatively such a long drive. I think that's when we both came up with the idea that we should find an apartment and move in together.
So for the next few weeks we visited many prospective rentals. Because we were set on staying under a certain budget, we were shown all sorts of creepy places including one basement apartment where you had to enter through the landlords kitchen and another where the walls were all painted black. Just when it was looking like there'd be nothing of suitable quality in our price range we found a large and recently-renovated first-floor apartment in a tenement in the Chalkstone Avenue area.
It was no East Side (the desirable upper-class neighborhood surrounding Brown University) but the rent was cheap and the interior of the house was gorgeous. The huge kitchen had honey-stained teak wainscoting, fresh contemporary wallpaper, a large faux-granite countertop with a huge peninsula featuring stool seating, newer all-black appliances, and recessed lighting. The living/dining room was freshly painted, had beautiful original hardwood floors and lots of windows. The two bedrooms were large and also had hardwood floors. The larger bedroom had a huge walk-in closet, but the smaller bedroom had a rather tiny closet. The bathroom was also small, but decent. Wayne and I fell in love with it immediately.
The landlord was a yuppie investment banker for Merrill Lynch. He seemed fair and intelligent, such a refreshing difference from some of the other renters we'd visited over the past few weeks. Wayne asked him up front, bold and unabashedly if he had any problem renting to two gay gentlemen. We had discussed this ahead of time and since Rhode Island, unfortunately, was one of the many states that had no provisions in rental laws regarding the non-discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, we felt it was necessary to be forward about that up front rather than be evicted, legally, simply for being gay if the landlord later "found out".
We moved in in March and Wayne spent lavishly to decorate and furnish our new home. Wayne bought a gorgeous beveled-glass octagonal dining table with armless Jacquard silk upholstered chairs, a black-lacquered 6-piece bedroom set and all the window treatments for each room except my bedroom. As well as woolen rugs, framed art, and side chairs for the living room. Add to this the furniture he already had, namely the Jacquard silk loveseat, glass and plaster end tables, and his rather large ceramic mask collection and his contribution to our house was well valued in the neighborhood of about $10,000. I at least contributed a 27" RCA TV, a Super Nintendo, some other artwork for the walls and a torchiere lamp...about $500...total. And actually, Wayne didn't make much more than me. I was just a heck of a lot cheaper.
We did have our first roommate squabble though over decor. We both wanted to pitch in together and buy enough glass bricks from a home improvement store in order to fashion a dividing wall between the living room and dining room areas. We disagreed on how this would be laid out and neither of us was willing to yield on each other's respective designs. So after a heated but short-lived tiff, we decided to not make any wall at all. (Until I built my version, albeit with even more permanent material such as drywall, a couple of years later after Wayne had moved out)
After we'd finished the move in and decking out of our new apartment, Wayne couldn't wait to show it off so we threw a huge house warming party. It was the first of many memorable parties both large and small we'd have at Rosebank.
It was, like the title of the song that Wayne and I memorably sang together during the karaoke portion of the party, unforgettable.