Betty Cocker' Birthday

Many gay men, myself included, are often obsessed with the way we look. 

From our hair, to our abs, all the way down to our toenails, we critique every crevice and worry desperately about packing on an extra pound or two. 

One sure way to fight the chubby monster is to combine cardio and weightlifting workouts. 

Unfortunately, no amount of exercise can keep you as trim as you'd like to be if you're addicted to foods that are terrible for you. 

The best way to keep from stuffing your face with bad food is to keep it out of your kitchen. 

Another way is to be creative, and use it as a sex toy. 

My friends have been begging me to tell this story, and I honestly can't believe that I've waited this long to post it.  This is the story of my 30th Birthday, herein dubbed the "Betty Cocker' Birthday."

First of all, you must understand that my "bad food" addiction is chocolate. 

I'm completely obsessed with it. 

If someone put 100 chocolate covered strawberries or Hershey Kisses in front of me, the entire pile would be gone in a matter of minutes. 

My buddy Toby and I have birthdays on the same day in December.  This last year, Toby and I decided to throw a party for ourselves at his townhouse in the middle of the city not far from the Strip. 

Neo and I had just started dating, and I brought him, still shaking and scared like a straight boy, to the party. 

At the time, BOB, like Neo, was a new acquaintance and came to the party knowing only me.  But BOB, a total extrovert, walking hormone, and shameless flirt, had no problem making friends with everyone early in the night. 

Like most parties, gays straggled in and out over several hours. 

At one point, someone brought a cake from my ex-boyfriend, who couldn't make it that night.  He knew that my favorite cake was chocolate, and had ordered a special one for my birthday from a boutique bakery downtown. 

It was beautiful . . . layers of silky chocolate, covered with white, buttercream icing. 

Really nice. 

Fortunately for the gays, and for their waistlines, the cake arrived late, right when we were hauling ass to the Strip to dance at one of the clubs.

I don't do well with shots at all, especially tequila shots, and like most of my birthdays, I was completely hammered by the end of the night. 

It was one of those nights you hear about the next day from your friends, and then you want to crawl under a rock. 

I'm not much for PDA, but according to my friends, I mauled Neo all night on the dance floor.  His shirt was off, my lips covered his for hours straight, and you couldn't tell whose arms were whose.   Apparently, a pack of lesbians cheered us on for most of the night.  At least that's what I was told. 

When the club finally shut down, Neo and I went home together.  We were both so drunk and tired that we passed out as soon as our sweaty heads hit the pillows.

So much for getting laid on my 30th birthday . . .

The next morning, I woke up with a terrible hangover. 

I gave a Neo a kiss on the cheek, but I doubt he ever noticed - he was out cold.

O.k., I thought, I need to help Toby clean up . . . and the cake!  I'll take it to work!  The secretaries will love it.

I knew the cake would never make it out of my kitchen. 

I would eat the whole thing myself over three or four days, and then feel guilty about it for weeks while I slaved on a running trail or elliptical machine.

Still, I call Toby to tell him I'm on my way.

No answer. 

A few minutes later, I pull up in front of his townhouse.  Before I go to the door, I decide to check in with BOB to make sure he got home alright.   

After a few rings, BOB finally picks up.

"Hey," he says quietly.

"Have fun last night?"

"What do you mean?"

BOB sounds strange.  Someone must be with him.

"O.k., hooker," I laugh, calling him out, "Who did you shack with last night?"

"Nobody.  I'm at my house.  Where are you?"

"I just parked in front of Toby's.  I'm about to go to the front - Oh, wait, that's Toby.  Hang one."

I click over. 

"Hey," Toby says. 

"What's going on?  I just pulled up in front of your house to help you clean."

"Don't worry about it.  I already did it."

"No shit?"

"Yep.  All done."

"Well, I'll come grab the cake, then.  I'm gonna take it to work," I say as I step out of my car.

"Uh . . . some people ate the cake.  Sorry man."

"Oh, really?  The whole thing?"  Some people? 

"Yeah." 

I got the vibe that Toby didn't want me to come up. 

"Well, alright man.  Sorry I wasn't around to help you clean.  I'm heading home to shower."

I click back over. 

BOB is gone.

But later that afternoon, he shows up. 

"What's up man?"

"Not much," BOB says as he plops down on the couch, hung over like I am.

"Crazy night, huh?"

"Yeah, no kidding."

"So, when are you going to tell me who you took home last night?"  I laugh.

BOB gives me a guilty smile. 

He's so busted.

"Alright, you might get a little pissed about this," he begins, "I stayed at Toby's last night."

I must've given him an odd look, because he continues, "Yeah, I was there when you called this morning, and when Toby called you."

I chuckle.  "Well, at least somebody got laid on their birthday!  So, you ate my cake?!"

"Well, not exactly.  When we got back, Toby just went crazy.  He started attacking the cake with a butcher knife."

"Really?  He can be weird sometimes, but . . . I would've freaked."

BOB grinned, "I thought it was kinda hot."

"So, you -"

"Yeah," he interrupted, "We used it.  I grabbed a big scoop of the cake in my hand.  He got the hint.  It took me a while to get the icing out of my hair." 

"Oh man!  My poor cake!"  I laughed, "You used all of it?!"

"Trust me, you don't want the leftovers."

No, I probably don't.

Sadly, I never got to try that amazing chocolate cake. 

But at least I didn't have to work off the pounds later. 

The best part is that I will never let BOB forget that he defiled my 30th Birthday cake, or that he owes me at least 50 chocolate covered strawberries, to be paid with interest - one strawberry a week until the debt is paid.

Comments

[Steve]

Please post the next part soon, can't wait!

[Gregory]

Very interesting blog entry and one read and I'm hooked. Can't wait to read more. Thanks.

[abnitude]

great birthday story, i enjoyed it immensely. i lke your style of writing and i can't wait to read your past posts. i got your link from shaney and i see why he praised you in his blog

[johnmichael]

Oh, too bad you didn't get to use the cake on Neo. I thought it was the way the story was going to end.

[misterb]

Is that Roddy McDowell & Tab Hunter in that pic?

[eric]

Well, as hot as that was, I'd still have been pissed somebody "ate" my cake.

[Steven.]

Gives a whole new meaning to "frosting."

Ok, maybe not.