SomaCow 321: Caveat Fatty

sent Ross packing, he was already out the door, and I knew I had made a mistake. One of my greatest failings (there are many, stick around and try to make a list sometime) is that I rarely consider motive when I am upset. I am great at looking at the world through detached eyes, calmly surmising people and their actions and determining why they do the things they do. Or at least, that is what the tests I took on Spark told me in the nineties.

But when I am angry, miffed, peeved, slighted, insulted, chagrined, embarrassed, threatened, irritated, or pissy, all I see is red. I acted in haste, seeing Ross as out of line, and now what the hell was I going to do? For the first time in SomaCow history, a new show did not start at the top of the hour. I went out of the studio, and found Jen.

She was shocked, confused as to why things had gotten so serious, and she said Ross was already gone. I walked outside, with Mickey and J close behind (it was an opportunity for them to have an unscheduled smoke break, maybe?). I looked down the U of my street, left and right… No Ross. No car. Did he walk? How the hell had he vanished so quickly?

I knew I needed to call him. If I let it go to tomorrow, the bones would set that way, and there would be no repairing the damage done. I whipped out the iPhone, and immediately scanned Twitter.

“it just got real. ON Somacow. - ELROSS”

Well what the hell did THAT mean?

I called Ross.

“Hey, Ross?”

“Hey”

“Where are you?”

“Driving”

I was rapidly losing ground. I knew that if this call ended all jilted and stilted, I’d have to side with my ego, and began the laborious process of walling myself off from Ross. I played back the last year plus of our friendship. Ross and Gary, Ross and Halloween Horror Nights, Ross in a suit atop a bar in downtown Orlando, Ross at my garage sale, buying comics for the kid, and really just assuaging my wife with her pregnancy fears. Ross at dinner, Ross talking to me about impending fatherhood, Ross giving advice on Birthing Centers, Ross giving advice on B4D, Ross shoving us to a tweetup, where we met great peeps. Hours of Ross, handling production, getting guests in and TFO of the studio, calling shows pimping SomaCow, bringing over snacks, bitting with J, giving me shit about smoking because he doesn’t think I should die, Ross at Target, Ross and his many and varied Beard Competitions, Ross Ross Ross.

I couldn’t let him go. So I hatched a plan:

“You can’t leave. There’s Pizza coming.”

I know he saw through it. Mickey, J, Ross and I had a moment, there in that driveway. Why do I sound like Carrie Bradshaw all the sudden?
In this hour, we discussed the Tweetup at Eden at the Enzian, chatted with Etanowitz of the Orlando Sentinel, talked about gay bars, and patched hearts.

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