For this new feature in this underused blog, we will look back at recent events in my life that aren't as dramatic as I think they are. Certain names and identifying details have been changed, but everything else is true ...Like sands through the hourglass, so are
The Gays of Our Lives
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Previously on Gays of Our Lives:
My friend Diva was in town, and after exchanging Christmas presents we went to a gay bar downtown -- it's always our place to go because if I bring that girl anywhere else downtown I will have to spend the entire night cock-blocking. Diva is the best person to go out with because she dances but doesn't drink, so I get to be wasted but save money on cabfare. Also, Diva went to Justin Morneau's wedding the night before and is instantly cooler than I will ever hope to be.
I don't know if you've ever been to this club, but it's a pretty big place and they have the drag show/Retro Bar upstairs and then downstairs has the dance floor (house music), a really small dance floor for current stuff, a big bar and then this kind of hidden bar that's by the ATM's and vending machines. It is downstairs in which Diva and I meet Ryan.
Ryan is the bartender, about 5'9", but relatively jacked. He was wearing a green PUMA T-shirt and had nice dimples. We first saw him when asking him where coat check was because I am retarded and don't understand there's a whole nother hallway in the joint. At some point he mentions having a boyfriend and my ears perk up because bartenders in gay bars are a lot like guys in gay porn; just because they're there doesn't mean they're actually gay in real life, and it's not a give-in that they are.
Ryan: "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Jakey: "Hells no!"
Ryan: "Why?"
Jakey: "I'm shallow as hell and I'm not looking."
Ryan: "Why are you shallow?"
Jakey (makes awkward flexing gesture)
Ryan: "Huh?"
Diva: "He likes jocks. And muscles."
Frank: "Do I have big enough muscles for you?" (he sooo does)
Ryan: "I'm not that shallow. You just have to laugh at my jokes and be able to put up shelves."
Ryan: "I like to laugh. I'd put up your shelves."
Jakey: *blusssshhh*
Ryan: "A lot of guys like the opposite. I like short skinny white boys." (this makes sense except Ryan is white)
Diva and I continue going all over the club -- the drag show and bathrooms are upstairs, and every time I get a drink I get them from Ryan except for my first one which is from the bartender who always wears Affliction T-shirts. At midnight in the bathroom I am putting on concealor.
"No one saw me do this," I announce. Who the fuck is going to judge? There's a drag queen pissing behind me.
"Jakey?" I hear someone ask, and it's Ricky Stevens.
A month ago, Ricky Stevens added me on Facebook. We went to high school together but he was a bit younger than I am. I responded to his friend request because I am a Facebook whore, whereas I'm beginning to wonder if Ricky is an actual whore. He went and got one of those "sexy" photo shooots, and oh my god, it would make Gaysian, my original high school nemesis, blush. Do not type in his name to get his profile picture. You will have post-traumatic stress disorder. Also, his profile is all about gay gay gay gay gay and he claims that 'he has been out since he was 12 years old', so I guess we're just gonna forget about that day when I was working at Walgreens and he was buying Tracey Bregman a bouquet of plastic flowers and a card in hopes she would be his girlfriend. Yeah.
Of course, any anger I have for Ricky didn't exist at that moment, and he introduces me to his friend Dom, who is tall and I think is handsome but Diva later informs me that I must have had vodka goggles on (and it's true because at this point I noticed Ricky has gotten a little thicker in the good way and if he wanted to make out at thatmoment I probably would have. I AM SUCH A SLUT). Ricky tells us that he dances in his underwear at this club and at another one a few blocks away.
"Diva used to do that!" I offer.
"Diva!" she yells.
"Oops," I say, but in Diva's defense she only danced at classy joints and never removed her panties.
We go back to Ryan's bar for round .... seven? Christ. I drink way too much.
"So can I have your number?" Ryan asks. I refuse, but Diva gives him mine.
"You're cute" he texts me.
When we leave I text him to have a good night and he says "you as well". Later he asks me what I like to do when fucking around. Because I am a slut I reply making out and geting picked up and he replies "really? that's cool." We make fake plans.
WEDNESDAY
Ryan calls at 7:30 in the morning and 7:45 in th emorning. I sleep through it. He calls again at noon and I answer it, still waking up. He asks if I want to fuck around at 2 AM, and I say I can't, cursing the fact that I don't have my own car or my own uptown apartment. However, Ryan still has a boyfriend and I am not oging to be the other woman because that is just asking the world for bad karma, like today when my father dropped me off at a green light and I told the old man honkkng at us to fuck off. I was punished by having to overhear a conversation on the light rail between a bunch of high school kids about Twilight.
SATURDAY
Ryan texts me while I am watching the Golden Globes and asks if I am going out tonight. I say no, again cursing the fact that I live at home and not a fancy uptown apartment. I ask if he is working tomorrow and he says yes. Foreshadowing!
