A Muscle Shirt

Last night, Spliff and I went to dinner at a Lebanese restaurant and smoked our first hookah. First, let me say that if you plan to smoke a hookah, bring a lot of people and plan on being there for a day or two, because it takes FOREVER with two people. But it was a pretty cool experience. While we were there, watching Lebanese music videos, we decided to try and find a drag show. It had been too long since we went to a drag show. Naturally, I called 411 and just as the recording asked me to say the city and state, a drag queen appeared on the television. The phone call went like this:

Recording: Please say your city and state.

Me: That's a drag queen!

Recording: What listing?

Me: Dammit, I just said that a drag queen is my city and state! Now I just did it again!

Then I got to talk to a person. I wonder if he heard that whole thing...and then I asked for the number of a gay bar...so...I guess it all makes sense.

Thing Two was bored, so he decided to come see the drag show with us. When we got there, we were obviously the only straight people to have stepped foot in the place for a while. I could tell by the look on the face of the bartender, who had the 70's porn star mustache and everything. But he was nice and he made a damn fine dirty martini. After the first drag show ended, I went to the bar for more beers and was approached by a guy with bleached hair and a muscle shirt on.

"Hey." Says he while taking a swig of his beer.


"You're cute."

"Thanks!" I said as he kissed my cheek.

"Are you a lesbian or straight?"

"I'm straight."

"Me too!"

Clearly, this was not true. I mean, seriously, he was wearing a muscle shirt. But as it turns out, we are the same age and he dated a girl I went to high school with. None of this stopped him from actually hitting on me for the rest of the night. None of this was very shocking either. Gay dudes LOVE me. They masquerade as straight guys and hit on me. I don't really get it. Every time I meet a guy at a gay bar, he tries to make out with me. I don't think that I look like a man, in fact, the lesbian couple last night hit on me and Spliff. And the whole reason that I love gay bars is because you don't have to deal with idiot guys! That is the whole point! Unless you're me! And then it doesn't matter, because I am the gayest man alive!

Needless to say, I have a new gay. Who won't come out of the closet. Yippee! Just what I needed, another gay boyfriend!

1 comment:

Mia said...

I miss all my Portland Gays. Sadness. Kenneth Cole, make-up tips, shoe shopping. Sigh.

Speaking of porn staches...have you seen Orlando Bloom lately? Dude.