When I decided to attempt a trip into Astoria again, I thought about packing my boxing gloves. My last trip to remote Mykonos was so action packed it seemed only to be the sensible decision. If only they could fit in my Cole Haan purse.
I landed safely off the beaten path of the N train to be greeted by Spike who promised a much less confrontational evening beginning with a movie. I'd be forever traumatized from refereeing his dueling roommates at 3am while I stood wrapped in a "toga"
When he told me he was interested in seeing Batman I thought it best to stop for a martini and a gyro first. I never quite shook the craving after I fled the boxing ring that was his apartment that night. 2 martinis later and we thought it fun to try and leap frog all the way to the theater. How fun to act like children! We only knocked over two actual children and one stroller before we finally arrived at the movies.
Somehow surviving the full two hours of trying to take Bale's gritty SUPERHERO VOICE seriously we strolled down Steinway Street jokingly shouting in our imitation Batman voices at passersby. Some of the older authentic Greeks shouted "Malakas!" back at us. I know now that this is a Greek word that translates to the equivalent of "A**holes!"
Like perfect mischievous children do when they learn a new, funny word we wore it out appropriately with repeated use. When we stopped for the integral six pack at the corner deli we successfully alienated the clerk by shouting "MALAKA FACE!" at him and doubling over with laughter.
Finally we arrived at the building of the modified boxing ring (his apartment). Spike continued to assure me the feuding duo would not bust in again for a rematch and we immaturely raced up the stairs two at a time until we reached a crossroads. To our left, the front door. To our right, a ladder in the corridor. Out of breath and looking up, I saw it lead to a skylight.
Spike handed the six pack to me and told me to "HANG ON!" in the daunting voice and disappeared up the ladder. When he flung the skylight open I thought about how exciting it was to be dating my very own Queens-made Dark Knight. Up onto the roof he disappeared and there I stood waiting for a good 3 minutes for my superhero. In this time I cracked open a beer and drank until he appeared at the front door like magic.
Playfully adorned in a batman mask, he opened more beer so that we could watch older Batman films and SHOUT OBSCENETIES AT THEM IN OUR NEWFOUND VOICES while we put away the six pack. Good, drunk and full of child-like giggles it came time for a piggy back ride into the bedroom. Greeted by a photo of a child on the wall, I admired what seemed to be Spike's former self and asked "Who's this Malaka face? You when you were 10?" before collapsing into a heap of laughter.
He straightened up a bit, and dropped the superhero voice. “Uh, no, that’s my son.”
I very seriously pointed to the batman mask that he was wearing. He nodded because it was, in fact taken from his child's toys.
How could this child himself fail to mention that he has reproduced? Perhaps there was something to the disguising voice and the secret trick to entering his place. Just as Spike stood there with his son's mask on playing Batman, he thus far had been playing a true, childless Barfly for the duration of our dating life.
Well, Barflies don't take well to surprises consisting of offspring. Double identities are fun and all, but the Bruce Wayne/Batman combo works for a reason. Mr. Wayne is a sexy, single and childless millionaire not a deceitful Astoria-dweller with a love child. If Spike was a secret super hero, he sure picked a good way to hide it.
In keeping with the evening, I childishly pushed him and sent him flying onto the floor. I should have brought my boxing gloves after all.
Stepping over him, I made my way out of the fight ring and back through Greece. When the old Greeks realized I was the child-like terror from earlier in the night, I quickly made 'nanny-nanny-poo-poo' hands at them before skipping into the subway and getting on the N. I was headed back to the real Gotham City.