Nearing fifty and recently out of a toxic relationship, Gem assumes romance is a thing of his past, something for guys in their twenties. Then he meets Gregg, who makes him think twice about this assumption.
Gregg takes him on a nostalgic date through their shared cinematic past, visiting a museum that recreates sets from classic eighties coming of age films. As they tour the exhibits, which feels like traveling through time, they share laughter, swap stories, and it feels like two pieces of a puzzle snapping together.
By the end of the date, Gregg can’t help asking himself: Is it ever too late to find yourself in the center of an epic love story?
Greg turned off the main street, past the usual array of McDonalds and Starbucks and Walmart stores that had invaded even the most isolated of small towns. “I have a random question for you. What is your favorite eighties teen movie?”
That was indeed a random question, but I knew my answer without even having to think about it. “Heathers, hands down.”
“That’s the one with Winona Ryder and Christian Slater?” Gregg asked.
“Yup, pure cinematic satirical gold.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen that one.”
“What? That is something that has to be rectified as soon as possible.”
“That good?”
“That great,” I said. “We’ll watch it sometime soon.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m a big John Hughes guy myself.”
“I like those too,” I said. “I mean, Hughes is ubiquitous to the eighties, after all.”
“Some Kind of Wonderful was my favorite. I know Hughes didn’t direct it but he did write it. And I always thought the way they styled Mary Stuart Masterson made her look kind of like a guy, so I felt like in some way at the end Eric Stoltz chose a guy instead of Lea Thompson.”
I laughed. “That was the thing about the eighties. Queer characters weren’t often represented unless it was as a joke or a villain, so we had to get creative if we wanted to find ourselves in film. Like watching The Lost Boys, I convinced myself the Rob Lowe beefcake poster on Corey Haim’s wall meant his character was a little gay boy just like I was.”
“So it was almost as if we were having to metaphorically insert ourselves in those eighties teen movies.”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“Then get ready,” Gregg said with a huge grin. “We’re about to do that literally.”
He pulled onto a long drive that led to an expansive parking lot in front of an even more expansive building. A converted warehouse, that was what it looked like to me. The outside was painted in bold neon colors: electric blue, hot pink, fiery orange, metallic silver. The sign on the front was written like the logo to the film Back to the Future, but instead it read, Back to the 80s.
“What is this?” I asked, my lips twitching into a tentative smile.
“What does it look like?” he asked, as he cut the engine.
“A place that sells eighties memorabilia?”
“Well, I do believe they have a gift shop somewhere inside, but think of this as more like a museum.”
“A museum dedicated to the eighties?”
“Apparently. I’ve never been, but I saw someone post about it on Facebook a few months ago and I’ve been dying to visit. I mean, we both came of age in the eighties so it might be like walking through a time warp and right into our teen years.”
I winced a little. “I don’t know if I want to relive my teen years.”
“It’s okay,” Gregg said with another of those thrilling winks. “This time we’ll have each other to lean on.”
He popped open the driver’s side door, and before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt, he was around the car and opening my door for me. I stepped out onto the pavement. The day here was overcast and balmy, but no rain. We had left that behind. I started to walk across the lot, but Gregg reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
I turned to ask him what was wrong, but then his free hand was on the back of my neck and he bent down to press his lips against mine. The kiss was soft and moist, out lips parting slightly, our tongues just touching. I had experienced my share of first kisses in my life, more than I really cared to count, and they were all different. Some felt like a fire, some felt like a flood, others felt like a wrong turn or a dead end.
This one felt like home.
