Free A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation by Kage Alan Page B

to get my hair to do anything—anything at all—but I had too many cowlicks.
    We were about the same height, but he had a physique that was a bit more appealing to the eyes than my own.
    I completely forgot for the moment what he had just done to me but still hated him.
    He extended his hand and, instead of punching him, my own met his. I wanted to punch him. I tried to get my hand to punch him, but my body betrayed me! Despite how hot under the collar I was feeling, I felt the warmth of his skin against mine, and I think I actually blushed. It had to be the alcohol.
    "My name's Jordan.” He introduced himself, and I still wanted to hurt him, now more than ever. What kind of name was that, anyway? Playboys were named Jordan, the kind who acted as though they invented sex and then tried like hell to spread it around. He was the epitome of why I couldn't get a date. How could I compete with a name and look like that? “What's yours?"
    "I'm Marie and Donald's son,” I told him, defeated and still dribbling champagne from my mouth and nostrils.
    "Is that what you want me to call you?” He looked a bit puzzled. “Do you have a really difficult foreign name or something? I'm fluent in four languages, so I'm sure I could give it a try pronouncing it."
    "No.” God, he made me sick! Four languages? I'll bet I had him beat. I knew English, British, Australian, Profane, and I could probably get by if I had to in the realm of Love. That made five! He wasn't such hot shit after all. “It's just that nobody can seem to remember my name. So far, I've been called Adam, Alex, Axel, Amos, Abner and Butch. If, however, you can ignore everybody else's interpretations, it's really just Andy."
    That sounded so plain. Jordan was the kind of name some girl took home to meet her billionaire parents and to get memberships for at exclusive health clubs and dining clubs. Andy was the kind of name parents hired to entertain their children when the television wasn't on.
    "That's an easy name to remember."
    He said it so simply and honestly that I almost believed him. Then again, why shouldn't I believe him? Of course it was an easy name to remember! It didn't need a masters degree, though I'm sure he had one of those, too.
    "In fact, there's a number of famous people with that name."
    "Really?” I heard myself ask him, and then realized I might have actually sounded sincere. Where was my uncanny sense of sarcasm? Why was my mouth boycotting any effort I made to tell him to go dance naked in a pit of fiery hot coals and burn? “How would you know?"
    There went another brilliant effort on my part.
    "Get real!” Jordan playfully hit me in the arm, and I wished for a chainsaw and a copy of the movie Scarface . “This is California, home of Hollywood .” He raised his hands to the sky to accent the word. “Actually, I was thinking of someone more involved with music than acting or the movies.” He moved around to a chair next to the lounger I had been lying on and sat down. “Andy Taylor. He's the—"
    "Ex-guitar player from Duran Duran.” I finished the sentence for him and sat back down on the lounger. My God, he actually knew who Andy Taylor was!
    "Who had songs on three soundtracks and then also released two solo albums...” Jordan stopped and looked at me, probably to see if I could fill in any of the blanks. So, this was a test.
    "The soundtracks being American Anthem, Miami Vice 2 and Tequila Sunrise and then the solo albums Thunder and Dangerous .” I wasn't stupid, however, and he was missing something.
    " Dangerous being a bunch of cover songs...."
    "And only available on Japanese import. Of course, you are neglecting his involvement with Power Station.” I returned a playful punch to his arm, and Jordan nodded his head as if I'd added the one thing he wasn't going to handfeed me. I actually felt pleased about it, though I couldn't figure out why. Maybe I had just been looking for an excuse to wrinkle his clothes and make him a