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Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.
Tue 05/28/2002
Oblivious
Koreatown sex stories, cuckold fags, Porn shops in Irvine, braless stories, shirtless British gay solders, Futurerama slash, Porn Shops in Monterey Park, Trading Spaces slash, Megan Mullaly porn, public sex in Los Feliz, nude go-go dancers, hot young Asian guys, Enterprise slash, porn shops in Long beach, and hot escorts.
Google, or at least the people using google were sex crazed this past holiday weekend.
My holiday weekend was less about the relentless search for smut on the net as it was about the puttering around the backyard, watching mindless television, making minor changes to the site, and eating.
So um, who had more fun, the horny googlites or me?
Here's some random stuff in lieu of a "real" entry:
The first work story:
I've mentioned in previous entries that one of my duties at work is holding administrative hearings. I had an odd one last week.
The hearing was with a 40 something white guy with a very young face. If he had been an actor, he would have been typecast in high school/college roles until his mid 30's.
Throughout the hearing he seemed distracted and somewhat nervous. He also stared at me, or at least he did until he realized what he was doing. Most people immediately leave when the hearings end. He didn't. He sat there in my office, making small talk. Even more oddly he laughed very loudly at a stupid joke I made about my busy work schedule. It was supposed to have been a not so subtle suggestion that he get out, but he didn't.
Right before I was about to tell him that I did have other appointments to keep, and he needed to go, he finally said goodbye and reached over the desk to shake my hand goodbye. He shook my hands again at my door. Then again when he left the office. He didn't try for a fourth time as he walked backwards into the hallway thanking me yet again.
It wasn't until I spoke to a friend that afternoon about the guy's odd behavior that it occurred to me that there might have been more to his behavior than mere nervousness. Even though it was a phone conversation, I could almost hear her rolling her eyes as she told me, "Duh, he obviously thought you were hot."
Me, hot. Imagine that. Anyway, in my defense, hearing man was wearing a big chunky wedding ring, so it didn't occur to me that he might be anything other than straight. Although as another friend put it, since when does a wedding band mean anything?
Some unsolicited advice for merchants:
If you have more employees standing around your store working security than you have customers, something is wrong.
If you have multiple employees closely follow each customer to make sure they don't steal, your customers will most likely not feel like patronizing your business.
If after picking up an object to find the price tag and then putting it back on the display perhaps a half or possibly a quarter inch to the left of where it had originally been displayed, your employees immediately rush over to move it back exactly as it was, said customer will decide that no, they will definitely not buy anything there, but, on the other hand, they may be very tempted to touch and move as much merchandize as they can before the employees freak out scream �get out.�
Some people get pulled over for driving while black. I tend to get followed around for shopping while brown.
A second work story:
After the hearing man finally left, a woman came into the office asking for some information. She brought along a large herd of screaming, running, snot and dirt covered faced kids. I don't know why (too tired, used to it, didn't care), but she didn't bother to control any of them as they ran around the office calling each other booger face and such.
After they left, I noticed that all of the information posters we have in our waiting area had fallen to the ground. Her kids had stolen all the thumb tacks.
Some quick QAF stuff:
Making the assumption that Michael's boyfriend is going to die an overacted, overly melodramatic death by the season finale of Queer as Folk, and assuming that the writers will continue Michael's one boyfriend per season version of serial monogamy, John and I were playing who's Mike going to get to schtumpt next?
Other characters have already had twinkies, sugar daddies, druggie boys, and overweight(or at least the tv version of heavy) guys, so our top contender for a new boyfriend is "generic, nonthreatening, yet hunky, queer guy of color guy." Either a smooth chested, light skined, African-American man, or a smooth chested, light skined, Latino guy. One choice allows for embarrassing, infantile jokes about race, while the other allows for embarrassing, infantile jokes about both race and religion.
Considering television�s track record, it's doubtful that it would occur to the folks in charge of casting to consider an Asian or a Pacific-Islander actor for the role. Regardless of the specifics of casting, this would allow for the program take the controversial position that possibly, perhaps, maybe racism is a bad thing.
If we are wrong, and it's not generic, nonthreatening, yet hunky queer guy of color, it'll be wacky hijinks with a hunky, smooth chested, heavily closeted married man; or hunky, smooth chested drag queen, or maybe even a hunky, and not so smooth chested queer werewolf. Hey, stranger things have happened ;-)
Token garden update:
The first of the beans (green, yellow, and purple) have come in, and were very happily eaten by John and myself. A few of the tomatoes have tiny fruits, and while I've never had very good luck with bell peppers in the past, they've flowered at least.
Not all is good in the garden however, after not growing very much, the tomatillos decided to die quick and rapid deaths this past week. So no stories of homemade and home grown salsa verde this summer for me.
A third work story:
After one of this mornings hearings, a man asked me If I had had Bell's Palsy in the past. I was surprised. After 14 years, very few people can tell anymore. About the only clues that I ever had a problem are a slight lopsidedness to my face, and my inability to only raise my right eyebrow. That is, it's both eyebrows or none.
He could tell, because he had it last year. This prompted a short conversation about treatment and such. Unlike the other hearing man I mentioned earlier, I'm positive that there was no um, "ulterior motive" to this guy talking to me afterwards.
more later,
nico
Music:
the new moby
Want:
the soundtrack to metropolis (the anime)
Elsewhere:
queer werewolves
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