Friday, April 1, 2011

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time there were four little girls…okay one girl and three gay boys. They lived in the magnificent city of New York: a concrete jungle of looming buildings made of glass and concrete, full of beauty, despair, glamour, wealth, fashion, poverty and cocktails. They needed a break from the treacherous winter that had held them in his icy grasp for far too long. They decided to take a trip. It was a journey in their rubber-wheeled carriage that would take them six hours away from their beloved city to a weekend of splendor and relaxation in the small village of Provincetown on the tip of Cape Cod.

During their journey there was much laughter in the carriage as well as a little sleeping. There were musical sounds hailing forth from the sound box. There was singing. Their tensions began to melt away the further they got from home.

The four friends began to call themselves Mildred: a collective – one name for all four friends. They had no need of last names or initials for designation, as they knew which Mildred was being spoken to when the name Mildred was called forth. If there was ever an uncertainty, any Mildred could answer the question.

Along with their new name they used new words to describe when things were good or bad. When something delighted them they referred to it as “fetch” and when something was distressing or annoying they referred to it as “kennel.” The later word was not always agreed upon as an appropriate word for their new lexicon, but at least one of them continued to use it: Mildred. “Kibbles ‘n bits” eventually replaced “kennel” as the opposite of “fetch.”

To their new name and new words, developed for their new location, they created a new game just for them. From the dried milk of the teat, which had turned to powder, they would shoot one another with a squeeze and a sound, much like that of a tranquilizer dart flying through the air. The outcome was unconsciousness. They gloried in the ability to take one another off guard at a most inopportune moment and cause the catatonia. The only way to end this torture was for one or the other of the Mildreds to dust off the benumbed Mildred. Again they laughed as they inflicted their new game upon one another.

They did ordinary things like having locals shine their nails and use sheers to trim their locks. Some of them even allowed hands to be placed upon their bodies to remove knots that had crept into their muscles while toiling away in their normal lives.

Relaxation and merriment ensued.

There were evenings of cooking beef over an open flame, evenings of baking fish. There was bread and cheese and wine aplenty. Wine that seemed to flow from a river on Mount Olympus, as its power seemed touched by the gods. They laughed as they consumed libations made with the spirit Ketel One. There were fruits of the vine and vegetables from the earth. There was chocolate by Raisinette and Cadbury. All of these things combined to create a debaucherous experience for the four friends from the city.

They did control themselves. They didn’t wreak havoc on the small village. They went out and met the locals. They played established games where sticks are used to hit balls into holes in a table. They danced. They spent money at local eating establishments and emporiums. They allowed themselves to truly escape the humdrum lives they led everyday in the city.

The most important thing is that each Mildred respected the other. No matter how fetch or kibbles ‘n bits something may have been, they enjoyed each other. When the time came to leave the village, the four Mildreds took to their carriage and began their journey back to the land of concrete and glass. They held fond memories of the shingle-covered house they had called home for three nights.

Although their time in P-town – as it is known in local lore – was short, it was well utilized. With their bond strengthened and their energy renewed, the collective Mildreds vowed that they would return once more to the gay village by the sea.