Patrick Irresistable

Joe and Patrick at the time of the story.

We were talking on the phone a couple of nights ago, and Patrick told me a story I had never heard before. On top of that, I was actually at the party where the story takes place and had no idea any of this was going on. Damn, I hate to miss a show!

We were at a party in Clifton in our early twenties. Our friends who lived in the house were musicians and had several bands playing in the basement that night. At the time, Patrick was the guitar player in a popular local band called The Thangs, and they were one of the bands that played.

After The Thangs had finished their set, they started tearing down, and Patrick was putting his new guitar away, a woman we knew, named Velma, came up to Patrick and purrrred "can i see your new guitar, it's soooo beauuuutiful" . He said OK, and with that, Velma picked up the guitar and began to caress her face and body with it, as she rubbed the guitar neck all over her face, moaning. Our friend Jon looks at Patrick and says "You know, that's not a guitar she's rubbing her face against."

While the bands were taking a break, everybody went upstairs. Patrick went down to the basement where he had left the guitar unattended. Having made sure the guitar was where he left it, he turned around and came face to face with Velma. He had not even heard her come down the steps, let alone within six inches behind him. As Velma tried to make small talk with him, another women, named Louise, who Patrick had noticed staring at him all night, came down the steps as well.

As the women realized they were both after the same man, they eyed each other with animosity, as if both had been caught stealing something from the other. Patrick said it was so intense that both of them, for a split second, seemed to forget he was even there. He took that opportunity to slip behind their backs and run upstairs to the party, leaving them alone.

Patrick went back upstairs, and tried to get lost in the party. But everywhere he went, there they were. He said he felt like they were hunting him, he kept hiding, they kept finding him. He would chat with each one of them for a few seconds, excuse himself politely, and try to get lost in the party again. Within seconds, the other woman would appear at his side and he would do it all over again. Over and over.

Feeling exhausted from women hunting him, Patrick found himself hiding outside on the front porch step. Unfortunately, Velma had found him too, and Louise soon followed. There he was, with a women on each side, each vying to be his date for the night.

Velma reached into her pocket and gave him a piece of paper with her phone number on it and asked if he would go out with her some time. He took the scrap of paper to be polite, as Velma began to beg him to please call, "please, please call....please don't say you'll call and not....you took my number, right, that means you'll call..." as her voice cracked and she almost began to cry. Finally, Patrick promised to call, which he eventually did, because back then he actually believed that if you said you would you had to.

As Louise sat listening to this, Velma asked if the van parked in front of the house was Patricks. Then she asked for a ride home, even though she lived in walking distance. Having heard this, Louise said "can I get a ride too?" Not wanting to give either of them a ride, but not being able to say no, Patrick had a brainstorm. As he was walking to the van with our friend Joe, he whispered to Joe "I'm gonna pretend i lost my keys to the van, and then I'll ask you for a ride", thinking the girls would find a different ride.

So Patrick announces to the girls that he'd lost the van key and asks Joe for a ride home. Joe says "sure" and Patrick thinks he's been saved. In unison, the girls say "can u give me a ride home too?" And Joe say "yes" and Patrick thinks "what the fuck Joe, thanks for the help".

As they're walking to Joe's' little car, Patrick has another brilliant idea, and asks Joe to let him drive. His logic was that if he drove, Joe would sit in the front seat, because it was his car, and Velma and Louise would be forced to sit in the back.

In theory, it was a great idea. Unfortunately, Louise gets to the car first, and puts the seat down, and says "Joe get in back" and he does. Louise's logic was that if she sat in the front seat, it would force Velma to go to the drivers side to get in back with Joe. So Louise puts the seat up and hops in the front seat, leaving Velma standing on the sidewalk.

But Louise didn't close the car door fast enough. Without saying a word, Velma sits down on Louise's lap in the front seat. To really appreciate how hilarious this is, you have to keep it in mind that this was a two door Datsun compact. Every time Patrick hit the break, Velma's head would smash into the windshield. By now, both of their pride was gone and they didn't care if Joe was sitting alone in the back seat of his own car.

And so began the contest to see who would get dropped off first, assuming the one dropped off last would get to spend the nite with Patrick. It turned into a very hot debate on who would be the last woman standing.

Just when Patrick thought it was going to come to blows, Velma folded, Louise was victorious, and Velma was dropped off first. Did I mention that Velma lived within walking distance of the party? As she got off of Louise's lap, and out of the front seat of the Datsun, she cried "call me Patrick" and waved goodbye. Soon after, Louise was delivered to her place, where she also cried "call me Patrick". Ultimately, they both seemed satisfied that the other one didn't get him.

Patrick never said if Joe finally got out of the back seat of his own car and got up front. I'll have to remember to ask him.

David

I met David when we were both in the 10th grade, at a high school that seemed to draw the broken hearted. Most of the students were brilliant, but each had their own story about what had brought them to our high school. They came from all over the city, and represented the city in their diversity.

The first time I saw David was in the middle of the school year, he was new after transferring from another high school. He was sitting in an empty class room, by a window, with the sun shining on him, and I knew from that moment that we would be life long friends.

David was slight in stature, with huge green eyes and light brown hair down to his shoulders. I tend to befriend handsome men, I blame it on being a Libra. Anysuperficial, David, who never at anytime was called "Dave", was one of the sweetest looking boys, aura and all, that I had ever laid eyes on.

He was not what you would call out going, but most of his friends at school were women. Woman loved David and he was never without a date. But under all that window dressing was one of the most complicated souls I had ever encountered and it absolutely intrigued me.

It was different between me and David, and we both knew it, and we both valued it. That's where I learned how to be good friends with men and is the basis of most of the relationships I've had since. He once told me, when referring to my reluctance to allow men to get too close to me, that the Rolling Stones song "Ruby Tuesday", was really written about me, and that it would always make him think of me. Now, when I hear that song, it makes me think of him.

We spent a huge amount of time together over the next decade. David was an intellectual, which made him great company for me. I would go over to his place, or he would come over to my mothers, and we would bake, and pick at eachothers brains, and listen to music. We made fudge, cakes, cookies, and he introduced me to all the music that would guide my taste thereafter. He was very cultured, loved art, and loved to analyze things. My kind of guy.

I realized after knowing him for a while that he was really kinda sad. So beautiful, yet so sad, and I always wanted to protect him. I used to tell him that I was going to make him a t-shirt that said "still waters run deep" and make him wear it. On a cerebral level, boyfriend had it going on.

When I was 17, I moved out of my mothers place and into one of Davids places. He bought beautiful old buildings and rehabbed them. He was just finishing one in Clifton, at 333 Fosdick, (teehee, I only put that there so I could say "dick"), and charged me barely any rent.

He was still doing work on the upper floors, but I didn't mind, until this one day. I was in the kitchen, with my two cats watching as I tried to get the garbage bag out of the can to empty it. Suddenly, POOOFFF, right out of the middle of the garbage this huge grey rat jumps out and runs down my leg into the wall, while the cats just sat there and looked at me. I can feel those little claws running down my leg to this day. The exterminator came the next day. Other than that, it was one of my favorite apartments ever.

That summer, David's parents paid for him to go to India. He was gone a really long time and I missed him very much. When he finally got home, he told me it was a very strange trip. He had loved Nepal, but had gotten very sick in India. He never told me the exact story of that summer, but I know he was never the same after it.

While he was in India, he had gotten addicted to a certain substance, and pretty much got lost and stranded in India for three months. His parents didn't even know where he was. Something happened, and he got arrested, and his parents had to ask the American Consulate to step in and get David out. After that, I always thought of him as being spiritually fragile, and more tortured than before.

After a few years, I moved out to live with my boyfriend. David had began dating a friend we both knew from high school. Her name was Angie and she looked like an angel, small in stature, sky blue eyes, blonde shiny hair. Angie had had heart surgery when she was a little girl, and her skin was very pale and beautiful like porcelain. She was physically fragile, but spiritually very strong.

We must have been around 20ish when they fell in love, and after several years they got married. They were living on a farm in Kentucky, with their animals that both of them loved, basically living out the romantic dream we all chase and sometimes never catch. I was happy for both of them, but also relieved because he was in great hands and I wouldn't worry about him as much.

One morning, Angie and David are sitting in the kitchen. David told me later that he looked over at her and she was kneeling down petting and talking to their new puppy. She looked up and looked him straight in the eyes, and died. Just like that. Her heart gave out and she was gone.

David, needless to say, was absolutely heart broken. At that time, I was absorbed with my own life, having children and being sick, so we didn't speak often. I just figured we would pick up where we left off like we always did. Shortly after that, I heard from another friend of his that he was dating another woman and seemed to be doing OK.

A couple of years ago, I was at a technical trade show at Convention Center. I ran into an old friend of David's, whom I remembered but never knew very well. The first thing I asked him was "where the hell is David" because I had been looking for him for a few years but couldn't find him.

His friend, Carl, says to me "Oh, you must not have heard, David died last year." When they found him, he had bled to death sitting in his chair from a self inflicted wound. That broke my heart. His friends said they had worried about it happening because he had been in so much pain and grief after Angie died. I wish I would have been there for him because I know it would have made a difference. Not a day has gone by since that I haven't thought of him.