Monday, April 4

2:40 pm
Patio

Oh, the irony.

The whole time I'm on the road I wish I was home, holed up in my apartment with my Wife.

Now I'm here and I'm going fucking NUTS.

No pun intended.

I've been inside this apartment since Friday afternoon.  72 hours.  The walls are closing in.

I feel like I'm in captivity.

Wonder if this is how that Bronx Zoo Cobra feels?

And the Zookeeper isn't even being nice to me anymore.  In just 72 hours my Wife has played, in turn, the roles of Nurse, Caretaker, Therapist, Drill Sergeant, and now... Prison Warden.

Cate's holding me captive here in the Apartment.  She won't let me go out and take a walk around the City.  She said I could come out here on the patio to get some fresh air.  Great.  I get to go to The Yard for my mandatory no-exercise time before I'm stuck back in Solitary.

Maybe I should get a metal cup and clank it against my cell bars, ha ha.  That would drive her insane.

Maybe not -- she'd probably put me in The Hole if I did that.  And not in a good (dirty) way, either.

Woke up feeling a little better today, at least I was able to get out of bed without yelping.  I'm still moving slow, still feel like my groin was trampled by a herd of stampeding wildebeests.  But at least I got up and walked around before I took a shower all by myself.

That actually felt good, I stood under the showerheads for a good half hour.  The one on my back felt fantastic.  God Bless whoever invented adjustable multi-head track showers.  And I was careful to pat everything completely dry when I was done.  No scrotal gangrene for me, thanks.

Then I came out and had some breakfast, read the paper, watched the Today Show, and tried to do a little paperwork.  But I can't focus.  I'm too damned fidgety.  I'm sick of being in the house.  I want to go out to lunch, shopping, anything.  Dammit.

Cate said there's no way in Hell she's letting me out on my own because she knows I'll overdo it.  She said I can go with her tomorrow to her Doc appointment, and if I feel up to it maybe we'll have lunch.  Lovely.  Another Doctor's Office.  Just where I want to go.  May as well be the Vet, if she's gonna keep me on a short leash.

I won't admit it to her face, but she's probably right.  Cate knows me too well.  It's killing me to not be able to get on the eliptical or the treadmill or something.  My body (well, the part of it that doesn't hurt, anyway) is screaming for exercise.  My walk around the block probably would turn into a couple mile trek because I'm so antsy to burn off this energy.  She'd have to come looking for me and would find me in a crumpled heap in some doorway somewhere because my nuts exploded from overexertion.

Again, NOT in a good way.

So I'm stuck here with Warden Sullivan keeping an eagle eye on me so I don't make a break for it.  She wouldn't even let me go get the mail.  Goddammit.

But at least I'm allowed visitors.  We're having a dinner guest tonight.  John's in the City doing something in the studio, then he's gonna come by to say howdy.  Cate extended him a  dinner invitation, which of course he jumped on.  I don't think I've ever seen Southside turn down a free meal, ha ha.

I can't fucking wait.  Somebody to talk to who I'm not actually related to, by blood or otherwise.  Of course I'm gonna have some 'splaining to do about why I'm hobbling around like a decrepit old man and sitting on a pillow at the dinner table.  But I think Cate will be okay with me telling him the truth, about our family plans.  After all, John's one of my oldest and dearest friends, and I know he'll be happy for us.  I'm sure he'll impart some wisdom or bullshit (most likely both) on the subject, ha ha.

Crap, the Cellblock Matron's coming for me.  Guess my hour in The Yard is up.

Where's that tin cup?


10:35 pm
Couch

Getting ready to do a little snugglin' with my Baby.  And maybe a little smoochin' too.  And maybe even a little slow dancing, if she's in the mood.  I think she'll let me exert myself that much, ha ha.

Our dinner guest has departed.  Wish he could have stayed to kill another bottle of wine with us but he was headed back to Jersey tonight.  It's always good to see John; wish we got to get together more often.  Maybe this summer, after I finish up in Europe and when he has a little break in his schedule.

Johnny is quite possibly the funniest man on the face of the Earth.  Tonight he made me laugh 'til my balls hurt. Literally.  And Cate was giggling too.  I saw her kinda wince and put her hand on her side a couple times, like her ribs hurt.  Johnny actually had us in pain, we were having such a good time.  The man is a fucking menace, I tell ya.  Ha ha.

And he's one helluva great friend.  Outside Richie and Davey, John's probably the closest friend I have.  He and I definitely share a unique bond; ever since I was just a starry-eyed kid he's been a Mentor/Idol/Advisor/Big Brother/Father Figure/Dirty Old Uncle/Bail-My-Ass-Outta-Jail Confidant.  He was the first guy at the hospital with Scotch and cigars when Jake and Romey were born.  He woulda been there first for Steph and Jesse too, if he'd been in the same time zone.

And he was the first guy I called when Dorothea and I decided to end our marriage.  He brought the bottle and kept me company while I broke down.  Then he helped me pull it back together.  He's always been there, hanging on to my back beltloop every time I'm standing on the ledge, leaning over and ready to jump.

Guess I don't thank him enough for that.

And the Bastard flirts with my Wife.  Constantly.  Tonight was no exception.  He was shameless, I tell ya.  Kissing, hugging, winking, nudging... and blatant dirty-talk.  Of course Cate dishes it right back to him, so that just eggs him on more, ha ha.

He was a little taken aback when she answered the door with her arm in a sling and all those fading bruises not-quite-covered by her makeup.  That was as close to speechless as I've ever seen Southside, I think.  But he gave her a kiss and a gentle little stroke of the cheek and asked her if the Other Guy was outta traction yet, ha ha.  Cate just giggled and told him the taxi crash story, and left it at that.

Then I hobbled over to greet him and he bellowed out "Jesus Christ, you Old Man!  What did you do, break a toenail?"    I said naw, Cate finally got fed up with me and had me gelded, ha ha.  She gave me a look that plainly said "Don't tempt me" and headed for the kitchen to finish up dinner.

I poured John a glass of wine and we sat down on the couch, and apparently I was just grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary because he said "Oh for fuck's sake! Spit it out!"  So I did.  I told Johnny that I was hobbling around like a saddlesore cowboy because I had my vasectomy reversed.  So Cate and I can have a baby.

He just got the biggest grin on his face, then said "No shit?  Lemme see!"  And he leaned down to eye-level and stared right at my crotch.

Well, of course I busted out laughing at that, then kinda yelped out "Ow Ow Ow!" when I squirmed a little too much and my nuts throbbed.  Cate came back in to the living room to find out what all the ruckus was and John jumped up and swept her up into a big gentle bear-hug and planted a big ol' kiss on Cate's cheek.  Then he very sincerely congratulated us on our new "project" and made us promise to name the kid after him.  Southside Lyon Bongiovi.  Ha ha.  Yeah, I don't think so.

Anyway, John and I settled down to catch up while Cate finished dinner, then we ate way too much eggplant parm and pasta.  After dinner we went out on the patio for a cigar (yeah yeah, I know--but it was just one) and came back in for another glass of wine.  Cate cuddled up with me on the couch and laughed while Johnny and I reminisced about the Wild Days.  She loves hearing those stories.  And as usual, John gave her plenty of good dirt.

So the night was over too soon.  John had to go, but he talked us into going up to Mohegan for the Jukes show on Friday, assuming we both feel up to it.  I'm pretty sure I'm gonna feel just fine.  Maybe Cate will let me out of jail on an liberty pass, heh heh.  I'll just have to promise her not to shake my ass too much at the show.  And to be a very attentive and romantic husband.

Ah, I hear my Sexy Prison Warden in the kitchen now.  Hopefully she's bringing us another bottle of wine.  Not like we have anywhere to be early tomorrow.  And I got some Jukes on the stereo and lots more stories of the Wild Days she's never heard.

The night is young.