If These Were {Olympic} Events, I’d Win Gold

I’ve never had Olympic dreams.

Or perhaps I should clarify. I’ve never dreamt about making it to the Olympics. I have, however, most definitely dreamt of Olympian Tom Daley in less than a Speedo. Take that, Dustin Lance Black.

But who am I kidding. I’ll never BE an Olympian, nor will I BONE an Olympian. (Although Johnny Weir and I chatted on Grindr once. Like, legit had pictures of his license to prove it. But that’s a story for another day.)

Because I’m 39. Because I don’t wake up before 7:30 A.M. Because my diet consists of a pot of coffee for breakfast, air fried hot dogs for dinner, Frito Scoops and queso as a snack, and enough cheap red wine to fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

But as I summarily ignore the Olympics, mainly because I find watching sports insufferably boring—yes, even the men in Speedos—I can’t help but think that there are things for which I could, in fact, win a gold medal. Maybe none of these things would ever be an actual Olympic sport, but that might just be a failure of your imagination.

So, sit back, and take this journey with me, as I imagine that delicious, oiled up, Tonganese flag bearer putting gold medals around my neck.

Overthinking

Takes more than five minutes for the cute guy to respond to my borderline risqué text? I’ve turned him off. My boss has a behind-closed-door meeting without me? She’s clearly going to fire me after talking shit about me to my coworkers. The Peloton instructor doesn’t respond with a heart emoji when I tag them in my story? They clearly have a group chat where they have agreed to blackball me on social media out of thousands of other members. I’ve earned that medal ten times over.

Drinking Two Bottles of Wine While Feeling Sorry for Myself

This one is pretty self-explanatory. If quarantine has taught me anything, it’s that I haven’t murdered my liver yet. And I can polish off two bottles of shitty red wine while watching a bad 90s movie on Tubi and still show up as a contributing member of society on early Zoom calls the next morning. Megan Rapinoe could never.

Being Self-Righteous

I’m right. You’re wrong. Let’s all accept this fact, award me my medal, and move on with our lives.

And to be fair, my self-righteous social media rants are ALWAYS RIGHT, though often a result of wine-induced thought clarity and keyboard warriorship.

Knowing Random Shit About Classic Slasher Flicks

Picture this. You’re at a party. You start chatting with the marginally attractive guy who could afford to lose a few pounds, but you can tell he is embracing his grey-haired Zaddy status. It’s me. The man is me. You’re interested in learning more about him. And all of a sudden he blurts out “Did you know that both Renee Jones and Kevin Spirtas starred in Friday the 13th movies— parts 6 and 7 respectively—and ended up starring together in Days of Our Lives years later?”

You’re not sure you’ve made the right choice, but your boyfriend is in the bathroom so you decide to stick around. “Do you also get annoyed when someone tries to prove how smart they are by telling you the Michael Myers mask is just a William Shatner mask painted white? We all know this. It’s one of the most commonly known horror movie facts out there.” You slowly make your way to the keg. I continue to stand awkwardly in the corner. But you know if you wanted to win at least a bronze at pub trivia, I’m your man.

And for what it’s worth—for any hot, gay horror fan Prompt readers out there—my pants are coming off during Netflix and chill if you whisper into my ear “Do you want to watch Sleepaway Camp?” or “Jason Lives is the best Friday the 13th movie.”

Making it Gay. And Quickly.

See above. Made it gay super fast. Like a spandexed twink coming down the ice luge.

Some more highlights from my gold medal performances:

Just yesterday, a friend was so proud she had created a hashtag for her father’s 70th birthday party – #PigParty. Because we were roasting a pig. “Ummm, Leigh. Have you followed that hashtag? Sure, there’s some Peppa cookies, and Daisy the farm pig is celebrating her 2nd birthday… but there’s a wide variety of sweaty men in studded, leather harnesses and neoprene body suits. FYI.” So, yeah, I am Olympic-fast at making a perfectly heterosexual situation REALLY REALLY REALLY gay.

Or like, at a wedding.

The preacher: If there is anyone here who opposes this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.

Me, probably: Father, have you seen that man’s ass in tuxedo pants?! That’s not the only cake we should be eating after the open bar!

God, I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry.

Kissing Guys I Met Off the Internet

Ahem, see above.

But, since we’re making it gay, I once had a guy from Manhunt tell me that I was a very good kisser because I adapted to his. I wear that as a badge of honor, but we all know it should be a gold medal of honor. Not to be a homewrecker and/or redundant, but Tom Daley, come through!

Wanting Closure

20 years after the fact…

I’d still like to ask Mike Falzarano from college if we ever would have had a chance if I didn’t get all emotionally intense after sending him his favorite Yankee Candle after our Cheesecake Factory date.

Charcuterie Boarding

I can’t ice skate because I have an irrational fear of falling down, and having someone skate over my hand, slicing my fingers off. No one has ever pole vaulted witha body like (looks down)….THIS. And me – in a Speedo? NBC doesn’t have the pixelation budget.

But putting together a board of salty meats and delicious cheeses? Gold-medal worthy. And since I don’t mind sharing a secret here and there: a cube of horseradish cheddar, a slice of fresh pear, and a buttery Ritz cracker… chef’s kiss!

But I’m also not holding my breath for the International Olympic Committee to ever add “Charcuterie” to the list of events. Putting salami on a plate with some mozzarella pearls just doesn’t seem on brand for the physical specimens competing at the Games.

Doubting Myself

You know that meme that begs the question, “Would you talk to your friends like you talk to yourself?”

Absolutely not. I am the antithesis of that.

I would punch someone if they ever spoke to me the way I talk to myself.

But at least I can give myself a gold medal for it!