Diary of a Superman Groupie: The Awful Love Triangle

By Glenda M. Hernandez (GMHernan@aol.com)

Summary: The further adventures of Tracy Dexter, a young woman who's super-smitten with Superman. She's back in Metropolis with her dad's credit card in hand and tons of man trouble on her mind. A continuation of the fanfic "Diary of a Superman Groupie."

{Author's Note: I thought that the Tracy Dexter "nightmare" was over but during the long Sunday nights, she seeped into my brain demanding to be on center stage again. Thus, here she is, take cover, she's back and more in-love than ever. For those of you who've never heard of her, she's supposed to be a mini version of Lois but for a complete background feel free to check out the first installment entitled "Diary of a Superman Groupie." For those of you who already met her, I tried to come as close to the original characterization as possible but the character is ever changing hence I hope you forgive any deviations from the original. This is dedicated to all of you who liked the first one, thank you. Any and all comments are welcome. :-) }


Hi there, Tracy Dexter here. Oh, I know what you're thinking; "Oh no, not you again!" or "didn't a house fall on you?" I've heard it all before but to be honest, I don't care. I don't mean to sound curt but you gotta understand, I've been through a lot this week. I bet you're wondering, what could've tarnished my overall sunny disposition? Two words-men and Superman. Right now, that part of your brain that controls the levels of curiosity should be working overtime. I don't want you to have a meltdown, so I'll tell you what happened. I guess I should start from the beginning…

After I left Metropolis, where I met Lois and Clark, Mr. White, cute Jimmy and the object of my fanatical if not hormone driven obsession-Superman, I went home to face the music. By the time I got to Bridge City, my dad had figured out what I'd done. I guess the picture of me and Superman as he rescued me from my consciously, on purpose "accident" at the hands of gravity, was a big clue. Moreover, he did notice the absence of his Amex, especially after the company called to ascertain if he was the user. I should've known they would've checked, I told you he never used it. Needless to say, he was a bit miffed. Oh, but I paid for my youthful indiscretions-can you believe I was grounded? I'm 21 years old and I was grounded. Can someone please call the Guinness Book of Records?

After a few days, my dad cooled down and I was allowed out of the attic (don't worry, there was no arsenic involved … But the doughnuts were good, though.) Recognizing that my dad had recovered his rational state of mind, I told him about my future plans. I told him that I wanted to go to journalism school in Metropolis. He was happy and proud (I felt I had garnered some necessary brownie points) but then he dropped the bomb. He told me that *I* should put myself through school. *What Nerve.* His rationale was that I had to learn some responsibility. Responsibility? I am the poster child for responsibility! He didn't see it that way. Bottom line, I had no choice, I truly hate that. Still, I was ready to do anything to go to journalism school in Metropolis. (Between you and me, with an English major, the choices were either law school or journalism school and we all know that I'm not suited for the law.) Anyway, after some initial preparations and applications, I was admitted to the Metropolis Charles F. Kane Journalism school. It was named after some 1930's newspaper big shot who had a thing for something called-"Rosebud." I always knew that the world was full of weirdos.

Fast forward and you'll find me leaving home en route to school. The day I left was a sad day. I mean, I love my father, my sister Eileen, my ever drooling little brother and even my absent runaway mother and I also love Bridge City and its reputation for excessive criminal activity, but in life change is necessary. (That is if you want to grow, not to mention live close to Superman.) So, I got myself a first class ticket on the "Silver Bullet" straight to Metropolis. OK, you wonder how I got a first class ticket? I'm not proud of this, really, I'm not but I did something I swore never, ever to do again—I swiped my dad's Gold Visa. Gosh, it was staring at me as I opened his wallet, begging me to take it with me and when I thought about it, I realized more places accept Visa after all. I told myself that I would only use it for emergency purposes. I tried. Let's change the subject.

The ride to Metropolis was totally uneventful (boring). However, something happens in my brain whenever I ride the train (I feel like Dr. Seuss). As before, a song kept rambling around in my head, something like; "If you were me, and I was you …" I had no possible explanation for this annoying phenomena except that maybe I related it to some traumatic, unnecessary, never to be forgotten (thanks to re- runs) event in my life. What that event was, eluded me but I reasoned that maybe I was blocking it out. Did anybody say, 'quick get a shrink'?

I got to Metropolis in one piece and I don't mean just my head (ugh, disgusting). No muggers encountered me (so I kept my Bridge City yell in check), no boulders fell on my head-continuously, nor did I experience an interminable onset of amnesia, *lucky me*. I was very excited to be back in town, I felt like Dorothy when she reached Emerald City. The possibilities were endless. I guess I should confess something now, the main reason I loved Metropolis was that it was the home of my unrequited love, my superhero with an interesting sense of color and style (maybe he should try wearing black). Truth? I'd never gotten over him, I mean even though I understood his purpose on Earth and all, I really didn't do away with my oversized crush, no matter what I told Lois or Clark, or Jimmy or Mr. White for that matter. What can I say? Love is love. Oh, but I was not going to do anything stupid, I had managed to control my mock suicidal tendencies and lust ruled behavior. I could be standing next to him and I wouldn't even drool—much. I know what you're thinking, "you went out with Jimmy! You dated him!, You kissed him and God knows what else!" I did. I know I did but though I like Jimmy a lot (he is a very sweet guy), there's still something about a man who can wear red briefs in public and still look mighty manly (it's a rare event, look it up!). But, I decided to play it cool, in this instance, I didn't want to seem too pushy. Confession time: Every time I passed a computer shop, I thought of Jimmy. Weird, eh?

Where did I go after I got to Metropolis? Let me put it this way, Lois was quite surprised when she opened her door (which had a different number) and found me standing there with a large backpack in one hand and a gallon of Haggen Dazs chocolate, chocolate chip in the other. (I didn't tell her that I went to over 20 different stores to find our favorite flavor, chocolate, chocolate chip. I figured it's been said. For 10 points, figure this one out.) Obviously, she was very happy to see me, I didn't think the ice cream had anything to do with it. Maybe. She invited me in right away and told me to get comfortable while she searched for a couple of spoons. It was really nice seeing her again, she looked well. When she came back, we sat and talked and ate and talked and ate and ate and talked. I asked her how things had been during the last few months. Specifically, I asked whether her and Clark were married yet? I hit a nerve. Her demeanor changed from a chocolate induced glee to a chocolate withdrawal induced depression. Still, "no," she said. I asked when they were planning to get married? (A logical question, I thought.) I often heard the phrase, "mums the word," but I never really seen it done. Talking about tight lipped! I sense that was the perfect opportunity to practice my nonexistent investigatory skills, so I kept prodding. I asked her if she wanted to be married? "Yes," she said. I asked, does he want to be married? Once again the response was in the affirmative. "So what's the problem?" I said, "If you guys want to get married, why don't you?" She didn't answer. It was like her thoughts were not written or something like that. I kept prodding. Finally, after I'd annoyed her enough, she told me that they were going to get married sometime on …* wait*, like you don't already know.

Did I tell you I asked about Clark? She told me he was fine, working hard, traveling a lot (traveling?) and that I would see him soon. Good, I said. Then I asked her about my Shangri-la personified—do I need to spell it out? However, I didn't want to sound too eager so I asked about Superman in a detached, casual tone. She shook her head and smiled (did she know something?) then told me he was fine, working hard, traveling a lot and that I would see him soon, (Deja Vu). Excellent, I said. Lois and I continued to talk into the wee hours of the morning. I told her about journalism school and she was happy for me. Told her about my temporary exile to the attic and she asked if I had learned my lesson. "Sure," I said and smiled shyly. I don't think she believed me. By the time we finished the ice cream and our conversation, we both realized that I had no place to crash. Lois then told me that I could stay with her until I got settled. I couldn't refuse.

The two weeks I stayed at Lois' proved to be very, very interesting. I hate to gossip but I must share this. Though Lois is the nicest person I know, she has one flaw. The woman has no domestic skills whatsoever (poor Clark), not that I'm a regular Alice but at least I keep some food in the fridge. She has no food, anywhere in her apartment, well, except for countless packages of soy sauce and a semi-empty bottle of Bosco. Once in a joking manner I asked her whether she preferred virtual reality food? She smiled, gave me a sly look and told me—"Don't knock it, the pastrami is too die for not to mention the foreplay." Huh? She smiled as if keeping a secret. I had to be very patient with her and her lack of food, after all, I hear that "patience is a virtue." Wait! Now this is really weird. Lois definitely has an obsession with keeping her windows opened. I mean, she keeps them opened all the time, morning, noon, night, they would be opened, rain, hail, snow, or guided missiles, they would be opened. I've definitely heard of a Peter Pan complex but I never heard of a Wendy complex. Talking about an excessive need for fresh air! I kind of figured out where her obsession came from, especially, after I found several bills for window repairs and replacements. Do you know how many times her windows have been replaced? Suffice it to say, she could sustain a whole industry. Being a reporter must pay well.

Did I tell you I finally saw Clark? After a couple of days of setting up camp on Lois' couch, I finally saw him. I almost didn't recognize him at first. He seemed different to me, he looked, he looked … Almost regal. Lord-like kind of regal. I almost felt like I had to curtsy. Weird. I was very glad to see him though. I'm not afraid to say (I don't think Lois would harm me), that I love Clark. Like a brother that is. Every time he came by, I would just slip away to the library, I figured that him and Lois needed their private time. Feeling like a third wheel is not a favorite feeling. Anyway, I didn't want to know what went on behind the curtains. OK, I'm lying. I was *dying* to know, not because my mind lingers in the gutters of life but because I wanted to make sure they were happy. I guess they were, the smile on Lois's face whenever Clark came by, was a sure hint.

I got to talk to Clark in private once, while Lois went to get some Chinese take-out. I brought up the marriage subject again—I was way curious. He told me that in his heart, he was already married to Lois, (10 points for commitment). I told him that was nice but that an actual wedding would be even better. He agreed and then he looked sad. I can't stand seeing Clark sad or hyperventilating. I dropped the subject. Instead, I asked about Superman. He gave me a look that said, "oh no." I told him to chill and that he shouldn't take it *so* personal. He looked confused. I asked him why he looked that way? "Never mind," he said. He can be a weird guy, sometimes. He quickly changed the subject and asked me about Jimmy and how I felt about him. What could I say? That I liked Jimmy but that I'd not forgotten the intense, mind blowing, life altering feelings I had for Superman? OK, that's what I said. I detected a mixture of confusion, shock and fear on his face. What?? I asked. He told me that Jimmy was a good guy and that he cared for me and that I should give him a chance. I thought for a minute and then agreed with most of what he said. I knew Jimmy was great and he cared and all that jazz but I did give him a chance when I went out with him the first time I was in Metropolis. More than a chance, when you think about it and yet the feeling was not totally there. You know, the constant butterflies in your stomach, the shivers up your spine, the trembling limbs, dizzy spells, dry mouth, cold sweats, constricted chest (no, I'm not talking about the flu), overall, the feeling that you could leap tall buildings in a single bound if the object of your desire was near. He told me he understood, still he told me to give Jimmy a chance. I said I would think about it but that I *had* to talk to Superman first. He looked scared again. Then he asked me if I was going to throw myself off a building to get Superman's attention? I laughed and laughed and laughed. He wasn't laughing. I told him not to be afraid that I was more mature now and that anyway I didn't want Superman to take me for granted. I didn't want him saying, "oh, it's just ole Tracy, I'll get to her whenever." (My worst nightmare, except for the one where I'm exercising and I can't stop.) He looked relieved. Just then, Lois walked in with an armful of Hunan. I wanted to leave them alone but they insisted I stayed. I couldn't refuse (free food, after all). I liked hanging with Lois and Clark, being around them was like getting your hands on love. That night, I dreamt of Superman. Enough said.

After two weeks of constant fresh air, semi- starvation, breezes that came out of nowhere, and constantly having to curtail my peeping-tom inclinations, I found my own place just three blocks from Lois'. I got a good deal. Good news! I got a J-O-B, at The Daily Planet. (How you ask? I reiterate, your résumé with you at all times, a charming smile or pitiful look and it definitely helps if the editor-in-chief is your friend.) My first day was like a homecoming, everything was just as I remembered it. Mr. White immediately showed me his Elvis Presley stamp collection and I shared my latest trivia about The King, for example: The letters "TCB" on Elvis' ring, stood for "Taking care of Business." He knew that one, too. I was beginning to think that he was a bit obsessed about Elvis. (He worried me but at least he wasn't line dancing in the middle of the pressroom to an Elvis tune. I could've done without the cowboy boots, though.) I must clear something up, I was basically doing the same thing I did before, you know, gopher this or gopher that but this time I had a new title—I was an intern. What's in a name? Everything. Especially, when all my colleagues at school were green with envy. I get a sweet satisfaction out of that.

By the way, school was great. In our first semester we learned the "where?" I can't wait till we get to the "Why?" Anyway, the professors loved me, I was already the president of the Investigatory Reporter Associated club, and I had been voted most likely to either find Jimmy Hoffa or discover who "Deep throat" was. My talents are boundless.

About my gig at The Planet, I learned many things, chief among them the ability to memorize what everyone wanted for lunch. On a personal level, I had lunch with Jimmy almost everyday. I didn't consider it like dating but sometimes it felt like that. I mean, once he held the door open for me and another time he cleared some glass from my path as we walked. (If only he would've paid for lunch.) I did remember what was so attractive about him, you know, the boyish charm thing. I was tempted to… But I didn't want to lead him on ( I guess kissing him could've been categorized as such. *Oops*). I hadn't seen Superman at all and I was beginning to think that he was ignoring me. I guess he didn't know that "I don't like to be ignored, Dan." (Oops, don't know where that came from.) Clark told me that Superman was not ignoring me but that he was busy. Sure, whatever. So, Jimmy continued to be sweet and ever present and I continued to hold an Olympic size torch for the Man of Steel. *Oh, joy.*

Then one day, out of the blue, near a Metropolis cemetery, I met him. Julian was his name and being French was his game. He was absolutely gorgeous—like a 70's John Travolta but with looser pants. When he walked down the street all heads turned. He was cocky and suave and way too full of self-confidence for his own good. If he wasn't so attractive, I would've hate him. There was something about him though that baffled me, like rocky road ice cream baffles me. He was very attentive, every time he saw me he would have a bouquet of flowers for me or a Hershey's kiss. He also loved to call me "sugar blossom," (where did he learn that? Beats me). When I met him he told me I was beautiful (like I didn't know), that I was charming (racking up points), that I reminded him of a goddess (bingo!). I was gone. Now you're wondering if I totally forgot about Superman, right? Superman was my soulmate but Julian, he had the potential to be my playmate. Oui.

I immediately told Lois and Clark about Julian. I thought they would be happy for me but for some reason they weren't. Lois told me that I shouldn't trust French guys at all or Irish guys for that matter. She was pretty adamant about it, talking about cheaters and druid monks. I thought she had lost it. Clark was equally unsupportive. He told me that he felt sorry for Jimmy. I told him Jimmy was like a best friend. He said that maybe Jimmy didn't see it that way. I told him I wouldn't know because Jimmy was always off taking pictures of something or other but I said, maybe you're right. It bothered me that they didn't approve of Julian but *hey*, they weren't my parents. I kept hanging out with Julian, receiving his gifts, fending off the women who came lurking, and generally trying to figure out what he was all about. On the other hand, Jimmy and I continued to hang out also, we went to lunch often, once in awhile we stayed home watching "I Love Lucy" reruns or old James Bond movies. I admit, I had fun.

One day, I'll never ever forget it, Jimmy and Julian met. The best word to describe the encounter would be— chaotic. OK, so Julian started it when he made fun of Jimmy's shirt. Jimmy retorted by telling Julian to go back to the cheese farm. Julian didn't stay still, he called Jimmy a wanna be photographer who took pictures like a chimpanzee (ouch!). Jimmy then assumed his karate stand, Julian grabbed my only bottle of Chardonnay (how dare he!), and I was standing in the middle yelling for help. Suddenly, in a blaze of blue and red, Superman came through my window, (thank God I had it opened). It was quite a scene. Superman managed to calm the boys down (phew!). A few minutes later, Julian left he didn't even apologize for almost breaking my bottle of wine. After a while, Jimmy left, he did apologize for the fight. I was grateful. I suddenly realized that I was left alone with Superman in my apartment. (Was I going to complain? Don't think so.)

Superman was standing in the middle of my living room,( I had to stop myself from fainting). He walked toward my couch and sat, all the while he stared at me (I thought I was going to die.). I moved ever so carefully toward him and sat beside him, (a dream come true.). I leaned toward him with eyes closed…Then I felt his hands on my shoulders, I opened my eyes and realized that he had put major breaks. I never got to my intended destination (darn!). He asked about what happened. I told him that I was watching a movie with Jimmy when Julian walked in and decided to be mean and that words were exchanged which escalated to total violence. He looked very serious. He asked me about my feelings for them. (Jealous?) I told him that they were my friends but that my heart would always be his. He didn't respond at all. Then, he told me the same ole tale about him—that he was Superman. I told him that I didn't care about it, that I would love him even he didn't have any powers. He looked like he had heard it all before. He told me that he cared for me (yahoo!) as a friend (boo!) and that I should find someone who could really love me like that. For the first time, I was quiet (can you believe that?). He told me to take him out of the equation and then he asked me if I had to choose between Julian or Jimmy, who would I pick? I was stumped. I couldn't answer (guess I was in shock or something). Noticing my confused state of mind, he told me to think about it and then he left me alone with my thoughts. A few minutes after Superman left, Lois called me and asked if I was OK. ESP? I told her the story and she told me she knew how I felt. I asked her if she had any advice and she said that I had to make a choice. I told her my first choice didn't want me. She said that in that case to choose from what I had and to stop being a victim. Yes, dear Abby!

That night I didn't sleep a wink, I kept thinking about Julian and Jimmy and Superman. Oh, Superman, my first love. It became clear to me that my future with Superman could only be realized in an alternative dimension but in this one, he wasn't up to it. I started to concentrate on Jimmy and Julian, then. Julian was mysterious. Jimmy was forthright. Julian was suave. Jimmy was clumsy in a very endearing way. Julian was a snob. Jimmy was down to earth. Julian bought me too many gifts (how many flowers can one woman have?). Jimmy gave of himself. Julian was liable to dump me for another. Jimmy was solid in that one and only kind of way. Julian could be rude. Jimmy was thoughtful and sweet (once he gave me his doughnut). Julian was uncertainty, suspicion and heartbreak. Jimmy was friendship, companionship, and trust. ( I had a craving for chocolate ice cream) I kept thinking, if I had to choose …

The next day, Julian came to my apartment supposedly to apologize. Oh boy! He was wearing those pants. He greeted me warmly and gave me another gift (one more for the collection.) I told him to come in and make himself comfy. Giving somebody his "walking papers" is not an easy thing to do. I mean, you have to come up with the right words (It's not you, it's me), the right intonation (sorrowful), and the right facial expression (Demi Moore in "Ghost"). I'd seen it done several times but I never had to do it myself. I must say he took it well. He didn't cry, didn't throw a vase at my wall, nor did he beg (why not? I wondered). He just simply kissed my cheek, took his flowers back and told me au revoir. A goodbye would've sufficed. ( Just in case you didn't agree with me, a week later I found out he was getting married to some woman called Wanda. Figures.).

After my arduous if painful task. I ran to The Planet. I had something very important to do. As soon as I walked in , I saw Lois and immediately went to greet her. One thing about Lois, she always knew what I was thinking before I said anything. For some reason, she knew what I was going to do. She smiled sweetly and said, "good for you. Go out on that limb. Be the first one to say the scary words." OK… Then Clark appeared out of nowhere and also figured out what I was up to. Telepathy? Needless to say, he approved. I went in search of my chosen destiny. Just as I was turning the corner I happened to glance at Clark for a second. There was something familiar about him , like I'd seen him somewhere else. An image of clouds came to mind. I shook my head, lack of sleep I figured.

Finally, I caught up to him. He was doing research and didn't notice me standing behind him. I leaned forward and kissed his ear. OK, so he was startled. I like surprises, most of the time. Jimmy was obviously happy to see me. I immediately told him what I'd done, perhaps I told him too quickly because he didn't react. I repeated myself. Just then, he pulled out his wallet and opened it. He shuffled and searched and pulled out a picture. One question; what's so cute about a woman wearing a mask, a spandex suit and the letters "U" and "W" on her shoulders? Jimmy didn't say a thing. Then, I got it. At first, I was shocked but then I tried to assimilate the fact that he preferred her to me. He preferred a masked woman to *me*. *A masked woman.* For all he knew, she could've looked like the Phantom of the Opera's sister under there. He told me he liked her boots and that maybe they were leather. Oh, yeah! Fall in-love on the basis of footwear. Moreover, he told me that she had said that he was cute. "So are puppies!" I told him. I could've ripped his head off. Could've yelled at the top of my lungs. Could've run him over with my car and many more violent activities, But, you know what? The concept of jail didn't appeal to me. Still, I felt like punching him and just as I was making a fist, a thought occurred to me. It was almost like a light bulb went on in my head and it let me see that I understood how he felt. I too had my own unreachable love. I relaxed my fist and left. I left him there drooling over the picture of the so-called "Ultrawoman." (I knew in my heart that she could've never been a match for me.) Still, there I was totally alone, no Julian, no Jimmy and worse of all no Superman. Life was but a continuous re-enactment of some bad soap opera plot.

By the way, Lois and Clark were devastated when I told them what happened. ( If you ask me, they took it too personal.) I went back to my apartment and closed the door (for a week). After a week of chocolate induced comas, I realized (after I woke up) that I was free to do whatever. Even if that whatever meant that I would choose to always be "hopelessly devoted" to my Super-Man. I felt quite good about that, way good. I knew that I had to overcome his apparent disinterest but I figured I had the weapons to do it. For the time being though, I had to get a picture of him for *my * wallet.

So what did I learn from this? That being torn between two lovers is no fun (not to mention feeling like a fool); that Lois needs help with her window fetiche; that Clark may have royal blood; that French guys really kiss that way; that if you use a stolen credit card sparingly the company doesn't become suspicious; to never put all my eggs in a flannel wearing basket case; but more importantly, that no matter who comes into my life or who goes out after leaving it a mess, that I was meant to love Superman … Even if he doesn't know yet, that he's *crazy* about me.

Now, do you understand why I don't feel all that sunny? I knew that you would.