Today Wendy alerted me to the shocking news that Tyrone had written a cute little comment next to one of my SANDYRULZ escapades. gulp.
No no 'gulp' doesn't quite capture it. When i heard these words i accidentally swallowed my tonsils. i think i panicked and had a subsequent minor seizure. When i'd relaxed however, it dawned on me that i actually didn't need them anyway, so i told the 911 helicopter to turn back. Sigh, Tyrone, tsk tsk [shaking my down-turned head], it was hard to get to grips with the fact that he still had the EXACT SAME effect on me after God knows how long.
Wendy had invited me out with her and Ty many times, and given me his various contact numbers before, but my history with this guy dictates that i hurl my arms over my face and sing loud, incoherent drivel every time she does this.
Why do i act in this silly, neurotic manner at the mere mention of seeing him? There must be a term for this type of manic, uncontrolled behavior. But sadly psychiatry has not progressed far enough to give me one.
So i'm going to give it the working title "NEUROTYMANIA": A manic neurosis that occurs everytime i'm exposed to Ty.
Tyrone and i worked together at Hunts and, well, from the NANO-SECOND i laid eyes on him my blood suddenly made a mad rush for my feet, like soccer fans pushing through the stadium gates and stampeding inside, mauling each other en route just to get close to the field. i thought i might pass out right there in the studio. Very similar to the way i'm feeling right now just writing about him. [sounds of breathing into a paper bag]
You know i don't think i'd have to have visibly SEEN Tyrone to have been so overwhelmed by him. The kind of ENERGY that exuded from that guy was enough to have sent me into a chemical meltdown all on its own. So if i was BLIND i would STILL have felt the full effect him. It is hard to reveal stuff like this. That's because it makes me feel weak and vulnerable. However in this case i'm going suck up my pride, and quote Robert Lowell when he posed the question, "Yet why not just SAY what happened?". And why not just say it? (plus Tyrone lives in London now. So I'm safe... ish...)
i remember most of the gory details of what ensued after that encounter because i just WANTED him and that was all i could see. i was seeing Damian at the time. Oh and Brad Lee behind his back (yeees, yes i know i know). He was seeing a very good friend of mine. i still feel really sick to my stomach about my behavior concerning this. Why she still speaks to me i'll never know but thank God she does. However, i don't think I could've cared if he was a mormon husband with six wives and seventeen children right then. i just wanted him. From that meeting onwards some hectic shit happened between the two of us and i will NOT go into detail here, or anywhere else for that matter. EVER! EVER EVER!
...Okay, maybe just ONE episode then... There we were at the Hunt Lascaris Xmas party. He was Elvis and i was Louise from Thelma and Louise. Out of nowhere Tyrone grabbed me by my arm and thew me into the ladies' toilet where we made a gargantuan effort to eat each other alive. After an hour or so we could audibly hear women's bladders bursting outside. But we didn't care. We were inside our own universe at that time.
But we DID eventually have to open that door. And there we stood, winded, out of breath. We looked like, well, two rock stars who'd just been released from a cage which they'd shared with a angry, starving wild bear for about a THOUSAND hours. i don't know if the women who stood before us were angry beyond speech, or in just plain shock at the sight of the two of us, because they weren't saying a word. Shew, scanning through memories like those either make me laugh, or kind of make me wish someone would deliver a striking blow to the back of my skull with a blunt instrument and leave me with total amnesia.
i'm sure you want to know what Tyrone looks like, and if you saw him you'd probably say, "but SANDY... he's just a guy for heavens sake...". But the particular kind of energy that oozes from Tyrone is the EXACT kind of energy that MY body sucks up on a cellular level. But don't confuse this with love okay? Because i don't quite remember exactly what Tyrone was like as a person (!), yes we were never actually close friends. Maybe the tension that stood between us when we were faced with one another was simply too HEAVY to allow us to actually get to KNOW one another.
It's sad when you meet someone that hits you with such a heavy impact at SO the wrong point in your life. Because in those days the only way I knew how to deal with my emotions was through the dreaded trio of Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n Roll. So i did that. plus VAT.
So even today the mental image of me sitting at a table with Tyrone TERRIFIES me. But what's the worst that can happen? Well let me think, there i'd be, striding up to the table trying contain my mortification for later when i could decompose into a puddle of deconstructed DNA in the privacy of my own home. But i knew that whatever i was going to say around THIS guy was going to come out SUPER wrong. Everything i said would be interrupted by a series of silent Homer Simpson DOH!'s. THAT would be just TOO HUMILIATING for me to recover from and i would have to place myself in solitary confinement for about, THE REST OF MY LIFE [a PAGE of exclamations here].
Why am i writing this again? Oh ja, Tyrone left a cute little comment on my blog (sharp intake of air) - i obviously never read my blog - and i'm now going to have to go and read it.
Gasp! i really can't believe i just WROTE all these things! Either i've REALLY evolved as a person or else i've got a killer disease that i'm repressing and i feel like i've got nothing left to lose. Or maybe i'm NOT quite as brave as i'd like to THINK in writing such ENORMOUSLY self-implicating information (Tyrone lives in London remember).
However i do suddenly feel the urge to run to Camps Bay and back right now. To ensure myself that i'm in condition. Just in case he's standing behind me in the queue at Woolworths tomorrow morning...
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