Blackouts and Breakdowns by Mark Brennan Rosenberg

with the slightest bit of work ethic.
    As the weather continued to amaze, my social calendar quickly began to fill up. Through Jonathon, I had met a few new friends. I didn’t really like any of them because they were very fake towards me, but I went along with them because I really had no other option since I didn’t have any friends of my own. One particular April evening, Jonathon gave me a call:
    “Hey, Mark, I was invited to a sick party tonight. There are going to be a lot of super hot guys there.”
    “Really? Where is it?”
    “The Diner on 18th Street,” he replied.
    “Why are they having a party at a diner?”
    “I don’t know; it’s just what they do.”
    “And who exactly are they ?”
    “A.O.F.”
    “Abercrombie and Fitch?”
    “No you dumbass,” Jonathon said, “Axis of Fun.”
    I laughed so loud that everyone in my big gay office could hear, “what the hell is the Axis of Fun?”
    “It’s like a fraternity,” he continued, “they are a group of really successful gay guys that created a group called the Axis of Fun. They throw a bunch of parties every year at the Diner. It’s a really exclusive invite. We should totally go.”
    “If they are like a fraternity, do they do community service?”
    “No.”
    “So what exactly is the point?”
    “Mark, why are you always looking for answers for everything?”
    “Because the Axis of Fun is just about the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of. I mean, the name alone is hilarious: Axis of Fun.” I laughed so hard I almost peed.
    “But I really want to be a member, we have to go.”
    “Why? It sounds like these kids were rejects in high school and decided to make a group up to make themselves feel better.”
    “Whatever. You don’t have to go.”
    “Now, I have to go so I can see this shit show for myself.”
    That night, Jonathon and I went to the party that the Axis of Fun was hosting at the Diner. The Diner is a really cute place, after all. It is green and orange on the outside and looks like a drag queen threw up all over it. Inside, there is a chandelier made of martini glasses and posters of New Jersey everywhere. I really liked the decor; the clientele on the other hand, was another story. Jonathon and I stood in the corner and were ignored, just as we had been at the disco-boutique. After about four martinis and Jonathon’s mysterious disappearance to the bathroom for hours, I decided I would try to strike up a conversation with someone. Maybe gay people in D.C. were just socially awkward and needed someone to throw out a conversation topic for them.
    “Hey,” I said as I walked over to a guy standing in a suit and tie by himself in the corner.
    “Oh, hello,” he said, “my name is Andrew, what’s yours?”
    “I’m Mark,” I said, “pretty lame party, huh?”
    “Well…” he said as I cut him off.
    “I don’t understand why this whole A.O.F. thing is anyway. Oh well. Are you a member?”
    “Actually, I founded A.O.F.”
    “Oh,” I said as I slowly walked backwards.
    “Do you have a problem with it?” he asked.
    “No.”
    “Good, I didn’t think so.” Andrew walked away. So much for trying to make friends in D.C.
    I stood in the corner by myself for about an hour before Jonathon resurfaced. I had nothing to do but drink and managed to polish off at least half a bottle of vodka by myself.
    “Finally, where have you been?” I asked.
    “Making out with the hottest guy in the bathroom,” he replied.
    “Jesus, Jonathon let’s go,” I cried, “I have already made an ass out of myself once tonight, I would really rather not do it again.”
    “Well you can go, I am staying.” I had no idea how to get home. D.C. was still a labyrinth to me, and I had not yet figured out how to get from place to place without a guide. When I was a kid, I was chaperoned around so I never bothered figuring out how to get from place to place. Now I was on my own. I had to stay or take the chance of getting lost on my way