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Glory Island Sheriff's Dept. Officers-Only File Area
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Login: RDunlop Password: NotGayOrInDenial
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============================= RDunlop files area
Journal for 2001
2001.01.03 ========== Tim informed me that we now have journals that use voice recognition added to our computer accounts here at the station. This will be my last typed entry, I hope. Rylee, a two year veteran of the force, will be managing our system. The accounts are completely private, but I wonder if that will keep prying eyes away. A closeted gay imbecile sheriff? I wonder what tasty gossip-fodder he might have lying around in there. Hmmm...
2001.01.04 ========== Am I on. Oh, yeah. It types. Cool.
Ummm...Mike Dolan, the man who supposedly started all these rumors about my alleged preferences, is actually my secret gay lover and high school sweetheart. We will be announcing our upcoming wedding tomorrow on the front page of the Glory Gazette. His dreamy blue eyes are what swayed me to finally reveal my true desires in his book, "Glory Days". The imbecile depiction of me is his angered doing after a major tiff we had over who gets to lead when we.
Yeah, Tim. Ummm... Microphone off.
Are you on? OK. You're typing what I say, so you must be on. Hmmm... Everything I say. Delete previous paragraph. Delete. Fig. Forget it.
The imbecile depiction of me is his angered doing after a major tiff we had over who gets to lead when we dance to show tunes. What else was I going to say? Oh, yeah. Mike and I will be adopting our first child early next year.
Sweet. Now we'll see if the gossip flows.
Oh, fig. Microphone off.
2001.01.08 ========== Nothing. Not even a look from Rylee. I guess these accounts really are private. Still having a few problems getting the hang of this voice recognition. Now how the heck do I get rid of that January 4th entry? I can't find any way to delete it, and no way am I asking Rylee about it. So, God willing, no one else will ever see that creative piece I wrote about Mike and me. It's completely false. Fictitious. A lie. Really! I have never in my life danced to show tunes, although I sometimes like to sing them in the shower. But that's completely different. No, better delete. Delete previous line. Select previous line delete. Cursor. Move. Aw, damn it. Stupid cold. Delete. Delete. Just don't save it. No, don't. Crap.
2001.02.14 ========== The blizzard laid enough snow last night that the entire town is closed today and probably tomorrow. Hell of a Valentine's Day gift, but one of those rare times we have a day off. All the roads are impassible and you couldn't walk 20 feet outside this building without losing your way. The snow storm is that bad.
Tim and the other deputies are in their snug comfy homes with their girlfriends and wives. I'm stuck here by myself in an empty police station with nothing to do but play solitaire on the computer. The weather is too bad to get satellite reception and the internet connection is down too. Guess everyone is sucking up bandwidth trying to download porn at home.
Look and ye shall find. Well, I ain't finding it here. Doesn't anyone have porn on this system? I'm going crazy here.
2001.02.15 ========== Found a few celebrity images, which I think belong to our (female) receptionist. Unless Tim is the kind of guy who likes to admire shirtless guys. Ha. Ha. Also found some story files, mostly about the characters from popular shows. For some reason, all of them are guy stories - Mulder shagging Krycek - kind of guy stories. They're good for passing the time today, but I usually skip over the sex scenes. Sad. Even geeky Mulder is getting more action than I've had in the past year. Just never pictured him as so NEEDY for Krycek. I could REALLY use some porn about now.
The snow has stopped, but it will probably be tomorrow before I can sleep in my own bed again. Not that there is someone waiting there for me, like the other guys have, but it is home.
Came across an old pic of Mikey Dolan. Looks like the publicity shot from the back of his, ahem, literary masterpiece. Solitaire is wearing thin, so I've been having long talks with the pic of Mike. I didn't know there was so much I had to say to him. Yes, he's a complete and total a-hole. Yes, he's a life-wrecker. And yes, he's the closest friend I ever had. Brutus to my Caesar. Not that I think of myself as a power-hungry dictator now that I'm sheriff. Looking back, I have got to say he was kind of like family to me in a way. No matter how much they screw you over, you still have to face them afterwards.
But not now. Found a paint program to play around with. I wonder how Mike would look with horns and bug eyes? :-)
2001.02.16 ========== A commotion woke me from my dreamless sleep in one of the holding cells. I stumbled groggily down the cramped hallway and into a lobby swarming with people. Don't quote me on this, but I think no matter how much we may deny it, there is something comforting about being in a room with other people. Maybe it's the lack of tv and porn talking. Or maybe, being cooped up in this deserted station got me to the point that I would have welcomed Mike Dolan with open arms if he walked through the front doors. Jeez, I'm worse off than I thought.
Duty calls...
2001.03.24 ========== Gave directions to a couple of tourists to Tabbot Cove. She was hot and he was eyeing me in a weird way. I think they were looking for a third wheel for their private outing. Tempting when your current frustration level leaves a palpable taste in your mouth, but I told them I was on double shifts through the rest of the week. It's the first female offer I've had in over two years. For some reason, the only ones who want to hook up with me are married insurance salesmen from Seattle. Is it something about me? Sometimes I don't really know.
2001.04.11 ========== Salesmen's convention this week. :::grumble::: I hate having to check out things there, but Tim is out with appendicitis. Maybe I should take it as a compliment, the fact that I usually get hit on more than the girls in the bar. Doesn't help my reputation any. But, that is my reputation. Isn't it? Maybe I should let something happen. God knows I REALLY need the companionship. ANY companionship would be appreciated. But duty calls... :-(
2001.04.13 ========== Escorted a tipsy dental supplies salesman to his room. He had dark hair and deep blue eyes like Mike. I noticed a wedding band. I wonder if Mike has one yet? I hope not. That would be the icing on the cake to what he did. At the door to his room, he insisted. I resisted. He examined my pearly whites with his tongue. I stood there like an idiot for a minute, or should I say village imbecile (thanks M.D.), and finally left.
I think I now know what true temptation is: being face to face with something you can't say no to and then turning away from it.
Tim and another deputy keep glancing at me from the lobby. I think he heard about that 5 AM incident with the salesman. Gee, Mike. I think you may have actually gotten something right in your book. Seems this sheriff's ironic torments DO follow him everywhere. I wonder what next?
2001.05.27 ========== Some a-hole hooked me up with Ron Fisher for a lunch down at the take-out seafood place on Cedar street. In a word... uncomfortable. It's hard to be keep a friendly smile when your lunch buddy reeks of salmon. A few too long stares from passers-by convinced me to cut our little meeting short. Ron is one of the few locals who don't hide that fact that they're regular patrons of The Wilde-side Club - the (only) gay bar in Glory. I am going to have to stop advertising in the local personals column. Maybe it was a fluke. I'll check it out tomorrow.
2001.05.28 ========== A visit to the Gazette clued me in on who was to blame for yesterday's smelly little fiasco. That creepy geek who handles the personals at the Gazette was playing matchmaker.
Jeez. Was I that much of a geek in school? Personals geek is living in a time warp. Seeing this man brings back a lot of unwanted memories of me being the lonely fat kid at the bottom of the student body food chain. Mike was my only friend back then, which I guess says something about how popular he was too. Well, until his hormones started kicking in and he got all handsome on me. Damn. Worst time of my life - high school. Well, except for now, post-Dolan. Mike is probably a lonely, bitter burnt out shell of a person by now. :-)
At least I made the decision to do something productive with my life and became what I wanted to be. I've changed. And I didn't need to step on someone else to do it. I did the right thing, Mike. Didn't I?
2001.06.25 ========== Summer is here and it's been a long, dry, lengthy, arid spell for Rudy. The highlight of my meager sexless existence was today's birthday party for yours truly. The guys threw a low-key party in one of the cells, complete with cake, a couple of presents, and a birthday card from them signed "from your significant others".
God I hate my life.
No good life goes unpunished, it would seem. My life is one big gay joke that never ends. Someone got me an inflatable guy, and Tim (???) got me a box of assorted flavored condoms. Gee, I wonder who they think I'm going to be using them with. The inflatable guy? No lady or guy for that matter, will come within 50 feet of me except for Ron, who I can't stand being within 50 feet of. This is going to be another one of those nights. I'll go home to my empty house, and watch unsatisfying satellite soft porn until I fall asleep on the couch with my new inflatable friend. :-(
2001.06.28 ========== A birthday card from Mike arrived today. Tim was in the office, so I chucked it in the trash without reading it. I fished it out later and took it home to stick in my misery box. Maybe one day when I feel even lower than I do now, I can look back through all the things Mike has sent me and maybe feel something other than boiling resentment. For now, I won't even dignify his apologetic appeals with a reply. I guess they're apologies. I haven't read anything he's sent yet.
2001.09.07 ========== Ron Fisher showed up on my doorstep last night and planted a big one on my lips. Seems he thought it was my birthday. Way wrong. I told him I had turned straight and shut the door in his face. Truth be told, freshly showered salmon marinated in Old Spice aftershave is not a turn-on for me. The man is giving me an aversion to fish.
2001.09.10 ========== A knock interrupted my 50,000th viewing of an "Ab Fab" rerun. Ron was on my doorstep again. This time with an apology and five cases of fresh frozen salmon.
I ask you. What the hell could I possibly do with five cases of fresh frozen salmon?
I briefly considered inviting Pats, Edina and their cronies over to share the bounty - but they're just fictional characters. And besides, there's not enough alcohol in the entire state of Washington to satisfy dear old Pats.
I politely told him that some things were not meant to be, and watched him reload the cases of fish into the back of his truck. He left me one case, in case I changed my mind later.
2001.09.22 ========== The man will not take no for an answer. I finally told Ron the "truth". Mike and I were getting back together. Finally, I can go back to my nice peaceful life of crime and mayhem.
...and I don't have to look cautiously over my shoulder every time I smell fish.
2001.10.03 ========== My backup excuse to Ron failed thanks to Entertainment Weekly. In the background of a photo of a certain starlet enjoying a night on the town, was Mike Dolan kissing an unknown woman. Damn you, Mike. Do I look like Mrs. Mike Dolan to you? Wasn't one screwing over enough for you. Now you've got the horny fisherman hot on my heels again.
2001.10.16 ========== I dread going down to the docks because Ron might be there. Smiling. Leering. Maybe I can send Tim down to check on the floater, and catch up with findings later at Ellie's after the autopsy.
2001.10.17 ========== One of the part-timer deputies made an utterly charming remark about yesterday's run in between me and Ron, regarding the case #1437 accidental drowning.
The sheriff was not amused.
My face felt prickly red after snapping at him. Maybe directing traffic at the grade school for the next week will dull the edge off his witty repartee. :-) Oh, the burdens of being in a position of power. Hey, what can you do?
2001.11.10 ========== Ron ignored me today. A disastrous omen of things to come? Every time I smell fish I bolt around, but no one is there.
2001.11.28 ========== Ron is leaving!!! He stopped by last night to tell me he was moving to Alaska. Seems he finally hooked up with a lumberjack or something through the personals. This got me thinking. Are there any other industries in Alaska besides fishing and logging? I can't think of any.
2001.12.19 ========== I caught up with Ron outside of The Wilde-side Club and said a proper goodbye. Hey, it was the least I could do for someone who pursued me as diligently as any salmon he wanted to catch. I gave him a pat on the shoulder. He gave me one of those kisses you only read about in Victorian romances. One of these patented knee-weakeners. I honestly think I swooned - if it's possible for a guy to do that. I know for a fact I tripped a couple of times walking back to my truck.
It's 9:43 PM. Ron has left the island for good. Now my mind is filled with all these maybes. Maybe I should have done something. Maybe I should have went for it. Maybe I could have found something to do with those five cases of fresh frozen salmon.
2001.12.27 ========== A lot of weird happenings and vandalism are going on around town. Full moon is almost here.
For the past three nights, I keep having this nightmare about chasing down a perp and running smack dab into the brick wall chest of the devil himself. And the weird part is that he changes into Mike. Maybe I should see a shrink about it.
Nah. Last and only time I went to one, she said in an emotionless drone that I had a repressed physical thing for Mike. Can you believe that? We're talking Mike here, for godsake. But really, I would like to get it on with Mike. Knuckle sandwich style, though. The guy owes me at least one good punch at his pretty boy face. Right?
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