Now that you all know about one of Mike’s more embarrassing tidbits, I thought I might share the story of how we met. I actually get asked all the time. Consider this me answering some reader mail.
I met Mike at a now-defunct Karaoke Bar called the Queen Mary. My brother, Kyle, organized a group outing to the bar, and he convinced me to come along and meet some of his friends. He’d just gone to a party a few weeks earlier where he’d met a bunch of former screenwriting majors (a very hard major that only 24 students get admitted to per year) and they were going to be at the karaoke extravaganza. I didn’t think much of it because, being freshly out of college, almost all of Kyle’s friends were from film school.
Kyle and I carpooled to the bar, and since I like to be fashionably late cough never on time cough, we arrived after everyone else. I immediately went up to the bar, and when I looked over to my left I saw Mike. I thought, “Hey, that guy looks like Carson Daly, but not bloated or tool-ish.” I told him as much, to which he replied, “Well, you look like Melissa Joan Hart, you know, the Teenage Witch.” After those stellar compliments, we didn’t talk for a while, although I had my eye on him.
I went to the bathroom to put on some lipstick, and that’s when I learned the Queen Mary wasn’t just a Karaoke Bar – it was a DRAG QUEEN Karaoke Bar. I also learned that drag queens use the Ladies’ Room.
Drag Queens are my people. They flock to me. I had no sooner walked into this restroom when two gorgeous queens descended on me, complimenting my hair and my lipstick shade. They asked me if I was there with anyone, and then one said, “honey, there are some fine male specimens here to-NIGHT!” The other remarked, “baby, Ginger and I saw you eying that one tall dark drink of water. You GO for him!”
“Okay, Ginger and Ginger’s friend,” I said, “I will.”
I got back out to the main area of the bar just as Mike was getting on stage. I took Ginger’s advice and went for him, and the next thing I knew I was on stage with Mike for a rousing rendition of Elvis Costello’s “Allison.”
Later in the night, I found out that Mike was rooting for the Giants in the World Series! I couldn’t believe it. I snorted my derision and might have uttered some expletives at the Giants’ expense. Mike was quick to point out that the Dodgers hadn’t even made the playoffs. Touche. We traded a few more insults, and then the night was over. I went home and told my roomies Jackie and Bella about the cute guy I’d met. They suggested I invite him to a birthday party our friends were hosting at the end of the next month.
A few weeks went by (and the Giants lost the series) until we finally met up again, at the same karaoke bar. This time, instead of being insulting, we were actually nice to each other. I suddenly found myself feeling somewhat shy, but the words of Ginger and Ginger’s friend rang in my ear. I went for it, and asked him to the party. He accepted, and then invited me to dinner. We’ve been together ever since.