LENNY D'ARBY

"Here's $65.00, Gunther. That should be enough to get the four Lenny Kravitz CDs I need to replace my well-worn tape copies with. Meet me behind the Golden Corral at 9:00 PM. That's around the time I'll be finished working. Well, have fun searching them out. I'll see ya later."

My sister's ex-boyfriend Thomas, perhaps the only chosen male of my female siblings whom I still consider an amigo, had these words for me as I carted him off to a dishwashing gig. After filling my hand with a crisp assortment of fives, tens, and twenties, as well as making sure I was clear on his instructions, Thomas and I parted company for the time being.

Activating the auto-pilot function on my Horizon (yet the hatch did not open -- call it selective technology) directed me to a primarily used CD store near Lynnhaven Mall. Though Thomas only wanted new copies of the discs, I couldn't resist the urge to check the new vs. used price differential. Sure enough, all four could've been had for $8.99 a pop used. Using very elementary calculus, the total came to $35.96. What about the price for the same discs new? Well, there wasn't a single sealed copy of any Terence Trent D'Arby CD in the store. Not being a fiscal conservative, Thomas wanted 'em new, costs be damned. So I took his money to where marked-up pricing was extremely liberal. Camelot Music ("Domestic CDs, Import Prices") would surely have the four D'Arby discs Thomas desired. Yeah, they had them alright (for $17.99 each). With Euclid's help, Camelot's fee to take D'Arby home was $71.96. That meant I would have to break into my own cash reserves (read: the crumpled mystery amount of bills in the Wrangler's left pocket). Needing to curb the indecision temporarily, I went upstairs (at Lynnhaven) to the food court and did some laps around the eating establishments. Twenty-six bite-size Chick-Fil-A nuggets and twelve egg-roll bites later (love those free samples!), I headed back down to Camelot, with the intent to purchase all that Terence had to offer. Introducing The Hardline, Neither Fish Nor Flesh, Symphony Or Damn, and Vibrator -- my benevolent gesture of contributing $6.96 to Thomas' $65.00 would most certainly be paid back in steak and cheeseburger dividends later. So, the faceless/nameless "Thank you for shopping at Camelot" cashier collected my coin, and I left the mall with great expediency. A re-introduction (Thomas, meet Terence) was going to happen in approximately forty minutes. Ah, I could already taste the well-done double cheese w/bacon... Pulled into the Golden Corral parking lot five minutes ahead of schedule. Sat there patiently, despite anxiously wanting to host the grand re-intro.

9:00 -- There was no sign of Thomas anywhere.

9:20 -- The classic-rock station played a "deep cut" from Bad Company ("Run With The Pack"). Liked that song very much but hated waiting any longer than I had to.

9:40 -- Found an old tennis ball under my car seat. Started bouncing it on the concrete near the dumpster. Wondered why I still had a tennis ball, since my interest in the sport had waned long ago. Meanwhile, I asked myself, "Where the fuck is Thomas?"

9:45 -- The professional dishwasher came out the front door, not the back one like he had said. "Gunther!!!" Thomas yelled. "Thomas!!!" I screamed accordingly. "Lemme see the discs..." I opened the oversized Camelot bag. "OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! Gunther, you fucked up BIG TIME!!! I wanted Lenny Kravitz, NOT Terence Trent D'Arby!!! How could you confuse the two??? This fuckin' sucks!!! Get away from me!!! I don't wanna ever see you again!!!" On his angry chair, Thomas didn't realize that it was hard for me to "get away." After all, we were sitting in MY car. Pissed like George Brett holding a pine-tar bat, Thomas got out of the Horizon, slammed the door shut, and proceeded to walk home. This cab driver wasn't gonna go his way ever again. Fuck you, I'm a survivor. Let love rule...

Four years and several months after the honest mistake, I have often wondered if I was alone in my Kravitz/D'Arby hiccup. The 5/28/01 telecast of NBC's "The Weakest Link" proved that to be false. A contestant by the name of A.K. (who pays $400 a year for his Mensa membership and half that amount for suits) was asked by the sexy host Anne (paraphrasing), "What rocker was once married to 'The Cosby Show' star Lisa Bonet?" A.K. -- "Terence Trent D'Arby?" Hey, A.K. -- Need a ride?