Finding Oneself……… [extremely Long; Growing Up; Relationships; Humour/Humor]

Part One

When Bri was 13 and in grade 8,
he noticed classmates beginning to date.
At school (other) boys got their way with the girls with a kiss.
But Bri didn’t have the urge; he thought ‘what’s this? ‘
He decided he should give it a try,
but each time he tried, the girl would cry.
Not only would she cry; she would run away and hide.
Bri felt between himself and the other boys a great divide.

Back home after school he’d seclude himself in his room and cry.
Through his mind was repeated the question ‘why? ‘ ‘Why DO they cry? Why? ‘

Bri was a straight A+ student with no flubs.
He played football but (except for ‘Cooking’) he joined not clubs.

After a few months Bri gave up (on girls) . He had NO close friends to set him right;
his parents should have known the problem, but they weren’t bright.

In high school he took AP courses, and took 3 courses at a nearby college.
He ignored girls and sports and concentrated on gaining knowledge.

He got a full scholarship to Harvard, but his advisor looked at him funny.
By age 26 he had his PhD in psychology and started making money.
But he still asked ‘why? ‘
It still bothered him and at times he’d cry.

Then waking up one day from a dream, Bri suddenly asked himself ‘were they shy?
And if so, why with ME and not the other boys? Why DID they cry? ‘
The answer could be that his brain and looks were superior.
Were those girls only uncomfortable with boys that were inferior (to him) ?
If that really was the answer, he could now save face,
and could pursue women with HIS high level of brains, looks, and grace.
(But WAS it the answer? He was still not SURE why they did cry.)
For now he would work hard, avoid girls, and try to keep his eyes dry.
In two more years would be a second high school reunion. Thoughts of attending gave Bri a fright. (He’d skipped the first,5 year, reunion.)
But by going this time he might find out if his answer to his ‘why? ‘ was right.

PART TWO

For two more years he waited anxiously for invitation he was dreading.
At times he’d awaken at night from a ‘reunion dream’, profusely sweating.
Finally it arrived in mail; it would be in June, before it got TOO warm.
He kept his calendar free for the whole month, doubting, at work, he could perform.
He got out the yearbooks his Mom had bought, and he studied each girl’s name.
Would he have the nerve to ask them ‘why? ‘ ….OR would he be too scared and lame?

He lived on sedatives for a week. He picked his favorite tie, and a light grey business suit.
Would he find out if the girls had just been shy, or would they give him ‘the boot’?
The big day came and he arrived in style in a Lincoln limousine.
His classmates saw it stop at the door. ‘Could it be the Queen? ‘
(They were just joking.)
Most of them, especially the ‘girls’, wondered if he’d be there.
They looked at his clothes. Was he apprehensive? They looked at his hair.

He went immediately to the bar and downed, in an hour, two Mai Thais.
At mealtime he found his name at a table at which sat only other single guys.
At the bar he’d chain-smoked, holding cigarettes between stained thumb and finger.
At the dining table between courses, he smoked more, and his exhaled smoke did linger.
Each other man wore a tieless leisure suit or a gaudy tie with sport jacket.
He engaged them in some small talk, straining to be heard above other tables’ racket.
The meal done he warily approached a table of women, not ONE a loner.
Their male partners were watching baseball elsewhere. (One girl had been a ‘Stoner’,
but they all looked nice, including the ex-Stoner with the nose ring.)
The girls had huddled on one side of table. He wondered what this visit would bring.

When they saw him take a chair, opposite, they were startled. One almost did bolt.
Bri’s legs beneath the table were trembling, like those of a newborn colt.
For a moment no one said a word. They all looked him in the eye.
Then he just blurted out his question to them ‘tell me girls, why? ‘
They seemed not to comprehend the question. Finally the nose ring girl said ‘WHY? ‘
Bri pinched himself and said ‘WHY did you girls cry? Was it that, with me, you were all shy? ‘

Again they were all silent, exchanging glances eye-to-eye,
But finally the ‘ex-Stoner’ spoke up clearly asking ‘why? I’ll tell you why’.

She admitted Bri had been handsome and brainy. But he’d had some ‘issues’.
At that point some of the other girls seemed to blush. Some even grabbed at tissues.
Then the one with the nose ring hesitated. Another giggled. Was it funny?
But then Bri said ‘WHAT issues? Look, I’ve done well, I’m nearly famous, I’ve got money.’
At that the one girl giggled even more; she was almost a nervous wreck.
Bri continued to list his good features, but finally said ‘what the heck? ! ‘
As he was about to give up, rising from his chair, ‘ring-nose’ said ‘sit DOWN! ‘
Two of the five women almost bolted, but ring-nose eyed them with a FROWN.

All was quiet, for a minute or two; Baseball was still going.
Ring-nose looked long at rigid Bri, but HER apprehension was showing.
Finally she spoke. ‘I guess you deserve an explanation; we all agree, it’s true.
But first I have a question of my own. Just WHAT work is it you do? ‘
To that Bri responded ‘I’m a Harvard-trained psychologist. Why do YOU ask, why? ‘
And she said ‘we wondered how CLOSE you get to people now. Is that question fair? ‘
He said ‘my patients lie on a sofa and I listen to them while I sit across the room in my chair.’
(By now all the girls had finished their drinks. Two lit cigarettes; ring-nose lit a joint.)
Now Bri, despite himself asked ‘why ask how close I get? What is your point? ‘
Again ring-nose hesitated, then inhaled deeply, exhaled, then said ‘the answer’s this.
And this is also PART of the answer why we cried and ran to ‘avoid you kiss.’
It wasn’t that you aren’t a nice guy. You are, though you are rather conceited.
It’s mostly that your breath was horrible and mouth wash was oh so needed.’

Bri was shocked. He thought a moment, then said ‘why didn’t you girls tell me? Why?
I never realized that. If I’d known, I would have given mouth wash a try.’
To which the woman said ‘first we were embarrassed. That’s one reason why.
We found out how sensitive you were. Your sister told us you did cry.
And second, there were other things about your hygiene that turned off most of us.
Didn’t you ever wonder why no one wanted to sit next to you on the bus? ‘

(Again Bri thought about what she said. He almost got up himself to hide.
And thoughts of murdering his sister were building up inside.)
Finally he said ‘look girls, I appreciate what you’ve told me but I must hear the rest.
I thought I had it all figured out; after all I’m a psychologist, one of the best.
As for the bad breath, perhaps it was cigarettes; I started smoking in grade 7.’
Nose-ring said ‘excuse me a moment’, went to bar, came back with a 7/eleven.
Bri smoked a cigarette, two girls made quick bathroom visits, another got beer to share.
Once all were settled, Bri looked to ring-nose, who was running fingers through her hair.

She cleared her throat, looked at each girl and then Bri, and then she said.
‘You also had real bad dandruff; it fell, like snow from the back of your head.’
She paused. Paused some more. And Bri said ‘are you sure about the dandruff? Is there more? ‘
To which ring-nose replied. ‘Were SURE, and YES Bri there is more.’
The girls were chugging beer. More cigarettes and another joint came out.
Ring-nose gave a questioning look to other girls. One answered; it was almost a shout.
‘Bev, you’ve gone this far. You might as well tell him the rest. Go ahead.’
Ring-nose inhaled deeply, braced herself, and this is what she said.
‘Bri, this may be the most embarrassing thing to hear; it IS for me to say.
I wish you had found this out from others, but I can’t stop now. No way.’
The smoke was making everything hazy. One girl had a huge frown.
The giggler no longer giggled; she kept her eyes both looking down.
(pause) (pause) ‘We know sometimes you didn’t make it when you went to boys room to pee.
There even were a few times your bowels were a little loose so take this advice from me.

Quit smoking, go buy some mouthwash. Don’t forget dandruff shampoo.
And see a doctor. See what advice about your bladder and bowels he can give to you.’

Bri by this time was sweating. He smashed his butt in an ashtray.
He thought about ring-nose’s revelations. Then he had these words to say.
‘Obviously I smoke. I started early. Now I’m up to three packs a day; give me a break.
As for dandruff and bathroom problems, that was long ago for goodness sake.’

The giggler kept her eyes down but giggled. Ring-nose cast her eyes to Heaven.
Another round of beer was brought as well as another 7-11.
Bri took a bathroom break. He came back with a scotch.
The baseball game might be over soon. One girl glanced at her watch.
When all were back in the corner, all eyes turned to ring-nose who said
‘before the meal Pam walked by you sitting at the bar; dandruff was falling from your head.
You seem to be in denial. I’m a psychologist also. I guess I’ll finish in a blaze of glory.
As for your bladder and bowels, faint stains on your fancy suit do tell the story.’
At that Bri abruptly got up and left. The girls hoped he’d do nothing rash.
Instead he emailed ring-nose a note saying: ‘Thanks. I’ll see you at next class bash.’ (Ring-nose wondered if that was a pun.)

His limo was waiting. Bri hadn’t expected his reunion stay to last.
He was shocked but pleased to finally have the answer to ‘why? ‘ about his past.
Back home he made a doctor’s appointment, bought mouthwash and dandruff shampoo.
He vowed to cut way back on cigarettes. He’d see how he could do.

Part Three

At month’s end he returned to work after a short rest.
With his next reunion 5 years off, he set about his quest
to correct the ‘faults’ pointed out to him by the table of his school mates.
Then he could start experiencing his first ever Bri + female dates.
The third shampoo he tried did the trick. No more snowy flakes.
Using various smoking cessation methods, he vowed ‘I’ll quit, even if years it takes.’
He consulted a urologist and a gastroenterologist as well.
With diet changes and occasional pills he no longer leaked or gave off a toilet smell.

When Bri was satisfied with his progress in the realm of good hygiene,
he used his membership in Mensa International to enter the dating scene.
All Mensa International members must have a minimum IQ of 132; some are female.
So he consulted a member contact list and contacted some by email.
There actually were very few in his age group who were single,
but he did have dates with two in Boston and with their friends did mingle.
The dates went ok. He wasn’t sure what a ‘good date’ should be,
but the Mensa women talked a lot about themselves. He thought ‘what about ME? ‘.
Bri found himself at an urban bar one night, and a hooker picked him up.
It was his first time seeing behind a size-C-or-any-size bra cup.

The five years went by and he received the invitation.
This time around he was determined to avoid humiliation.

Part Four

At the airport he rented a Ford Taurus; no limo he would use.
On Saturday night, into the party house parking lot he did cruise.
At the bar Bri had his two Mai Thais but no cigarette he smoked.
He looked for the men he knew who would know the gossip and he poked
into what they knew about ring-nose and the other girls at corner table.
Bri didn’t learn all he wished to, but he learned what he was able (to) .
Again he was seated at a table of nine other single men.
The meal choices were pasta primavera, scallops, and Rock Cornish game hen.
This time he’d worn a sport coat with a gaudy tie, trying to blend in.
But this time all the others wore turtle necks. (What WAS his childhood sin?)
He kept his eye on corner table, watching for the men to go to TV set.
When they did, Bri made his move. A better chance he would not get.

Most of the same girls were there. The new one had heard about HIM.
He smiled graciously as he approached. It was now sink or swim.
Bri did not sit down but nodded to one and all. Ring-nose was there.
He had sent her and email the week before asking her to save him a chair.
He had also written of his progress in bringing his hygiene up to par.
He was down to 3 cigarettes a day; he still smoked but he’d come far.

Bri spoke first. ‘Good evening ladies. It’s so good to see you all.
Would any of you care to dance? ‘ (At that he almost did, but did NOT stall.)
His hopes were running high.
He looked ring-nose in the eye.
Again she became the spokesperson for the female passel.
She was the only one for which the job was not too much of a hassle.

‘We’re so sorry Bri if we disappoint you by declining your request to dance.
You see our husbands and boyfriends could be back soon. We don’t want to take the chance.
To which Bri replied (after a moment) , with a smile
‘Come now ladies. Just one dance with me. I don’t ask you to run a mile.’

Like at last reunion, the women looked from one to the other to ring-nose.
(The giggler giggled a slight giggle. Bri felt like strangling the little thing.)
Drinks were tipped nervously, cigarettes were lit, and a joint did appear.
Though ring-nose, a psychologist, dreaded it, again the moment of truth drew near.

She cleared her throat, resisted lighting up, and said
‘Bri, I got your emails 5 years ago and again last week; both I read.
Thanks for sending them. We are proud of your great progress.
But again, we’ve discussed this amongst us, and this we must confess.
We sent out spies earlier this evening to verify the facts.
Not one cigarette was smoked. You no longer smoke three packs.
Your dark sports jacket shows no dandruff. Your breath is your claim to glory.
Your pants have been discreetly inspected and ‘NO SPOTS’ tells the story.’

To which Bri responded ‘your spies tell the truth, but what about a dance?
After all I’ve been through since grade 8, don’t I get a second chance?
Ring-nose looked from face to face. Some frowned, some looked away.
‘Bri, we felt sorry for you then and do now as well, but you’ll have a better day.
It’s true our men would not care tonight with whom we dance.
It’s not for them we turn down your offer and deny you (as you stated) a ‘second chance’.
Bri was beside himself. He was a well-respected psychologist.
(Concealed beneath the table his hands closed in shaking fists.)
How was it he could solve other people’s problems but not his own?
Were these girls a sign that he was destined to live his life alone?

‘I beg you ladies. I’ll not return ever if you don’t give me a straight answer NOW.
And if your answer is an honest one, I’ll not bother you more I vow’.

The giggler had left the table and had not returned.
Through ring-nose’s mind the ‘how? ‘ of how to answer churned.
At last she decided, as is oft the case, the best path was to tell the truth.
But first she would give the explanation for it so the answer might seem less ruth(less) .
‘Bri, in middle school it’s true you smelled; that‘s why we ran away.
But we all thought you were quite divine in most every other way.
Though you were not the biggest player you were on the football team,
And watching you run and catch the ball made us want to scream.
Your manners, though not as grand as ours, were A+ for a boy,
and of course grades were all A+, even in the courses you did not enjoy.
We heard you had the makings of a fine chef; the girls’ club had same teacher.
You were (still are) very handsome; despite the breath, ironically, your smile was your best feature.
(We especially liked you when we heard you cried over us.)
So we KNOW we owe you another explanation for our reluctance to dance.

Bri’s heart pounded. Every heart at the corner table pounded.
…..
……
…….
‘Bri, ……we are shy. All of us.’

Bri’s heart relaxed a bit, his hands unclenched, he rose with an odd smile.
He exited the party house without another word and sat in the rental car a while.

Part Five

The following day he flew back to Boston and resumed his life’s routine.
He tried a date from time to time and frequented the bar scene.

Then one evening, on his second Mai Thai, he was approached by a real looker.
She was young, a tanned brunette, with sparkling teeth. Bri thought ‘another hooker’.
But this one seemed a bit different. It didn’t seem a routine sex hustle.
There was a sweetness and caring exuding from her, nothing to, Bri’s feathers rustle.

They DID end up together that night, but in his bed, not a hotel.
He’d not figured out her essential difference, but he knew time would tell.
That time came sooner than he’d thought as she was about to become his newfound lover.
Another ten minutes, tops, and her essence Bri would discover.

Her breasts were cute, with tiny pink rosebud nipples, and
her smooth belly below her navel showed a few sensuous ripples.
Bri’s external sexual organ had swollen nearly hard as a rock,
But when he pulled down her lacey flowered panties he found a second cock.

He was shocked of course (I would be) , but he was NOT disgusted.
Strange, vaguely familiar feelings ran through Bri’s body, and he knew she could be trusted.
(WELL, maybe he should think ‘HE’ can be trusted?)

The night was all he (Bri) could have wished for and there were many more.
He was relieved, it’s safe to say, to learn she/he wasn’t another whore.
Just another sort of human he had heard about in psych 101.
She moved in with Bri and though they had some problems, mostly they had fun.

Each work day Bri went off to the office to help his patients,
and she went off to her office to help HER patients. (she was a surgeon)
(and a little older than Bri first thought…..but that was fine)
They even adopted twins, a boy and a girl; their life together was a charm,
and in a few years Bri escorted his partner into his reunion on his arm.