K always cringes when one of T's commercials come on the television. He knows he should look at the screen fondly, smiling like a parent to a child, thinking, "Oh, look. . .there he is." But instead, all K can do is cringe and think, "When we break up, these are going to haunt me."
K and T have been dating for a few months--K's not always sure how long it's been; he often has trouble recalling if he met T before or after Halloween. He knows it was before Thanksgiving but, otherwise, the date is lost to history. It's been a pleasant enough experience: no drama, no great romance, no lung-splitting, ear-shattering arguments. . . and the sex has been. . . adequate.
K yawns.
He hates when he gets insomnia and finds one of T's commercials airing on the local channels. especially when it's the 30-minute long one where T wears a jester's hat while trying to convince people with bad credit, no credit--"ANY CREDIT!!!"--to head on down to M's car dealership. K used to make fun of T; now he gets fucked by him.
By a car salesman who wears a jester's hat on TV.
K senses his life may be heading in all the wrong directions. . .
* * *
K was introduced to T by Crazy Widow at some charity function he went to this Fall--but he can't recall if it was Hope-and-Help or that anorexia dinner ("An ironic fund-raiser," K had thought) or that gallery opening in the Sanctuary. Fall was a mess of social engagements and fundraisers, just as winter is a big, depressing void on his calendar. Crazy Widow had pulled him over to T, telling K that T was "So funny, you'll laugh until you faint!" K had no interest in fainting at the time but, he had to admit, when Crazy Widow introduced him to T, K's first thought had nothing whatsoever to do with laughing--his mind immediately turned carnal.
Of course, at the moment, T was wearing a tuxedo and not a jester's hat.
And that night, whatever night that was --damn, why can't he remember?--ended with the two of them tossing their tuxes to the floor and fucking like teenaged boys.
Except that, while they went at it, all K could hear in his mind was T saying, over and over, "So come on down! It doesn't matter if you have no credit, bad credit. . . ANY CREDIT IS GOOD!"
