I Get Free Drinks in Gay Bars
Despite the lack of excitement this week, I did have a pretty good weekend, chock full o' food and shopping and gay boys. And really-- is there anything better than food and shopping and gay boys? I certainly can't think of any.
So my friend Chris visited Friday night, and because our original plans* fell through due to procrastination, we decided to hit Philly to find me a spring jacket (unsuccessful, but SPRING!!!), and then we went to a restaurant, which had a line out the door, but due to how fantastic and important we look**, we got right in.
After dinner, we walked around a little, planning to pop into a couple places and get drinks. However, after sitting at the bar at Brasserie Perrier for 5 minutes and not getting so much as a drink menu, we decided to move on, ending up at Bump***, a gay bar on 13th.
An altogether new experience for me, I wasn't sure what to do. My usual modus operandi is to walk in, adjust my boobs to enhance my cleavage, and scout the place out for guys who aren't too hot (because then they are cocky), but who also aren't perpetual Wingmen (no losers, please). No matter how often I say to myself before a night out, "This is a night out with friends, I'm not looking for a man," really, I'm always looking for a man. So it was indeed a strange feeling walking into a bar, where there is alcohol, and not thinking I'd at least get to use my buzz to chat up some fellas.
But you know what happened? I suddenly became obsessed with the idea of turning into Carrie Bradshaw and having gay men think I am Fabulous. After the raspberry cosmopolitan and the first of the key lime martinis, the hot bartender just winked at me and never collected payment.
Oh I was hot shit.
Sitting next to the drink corral where the waiters come to pick up their drinks turned out to be quite convenient, as this is also where the bar's patrons walked up to order. I smiled at them, I made witty remarks regarding their drink choices, and then I met a guy named Demarco.
Apparently Demarco was new on the Philly gay scene, fresh from New Orleans, and being "put out there" by his buddy, whose name I cannot remember because it wasn't stupid and he wasn't an asshole. Buddy was quite enthusiastic and friendly, while Demarco was dark and mysterious. However, it was D. who called me "adorable," so I wasn't altogether crushed when Buddy had to leave (9 a.m. meeting) and it was D. who hung back behind Chris and me and ordered another drink.
I had fun making conversation, asking D. questions, and having a regular chat with a new person in a bar (despite the fact that it was me doing most of the talking). But then? Well I'm not sure if it's because I told him he reminded me of Zorro and then did the Z-with-a-sword swishing motion, or because he simply was a miserable person, but I asked him how he didn't make an ugly face whilst drinking his Grey Goose and water (as I sipped my 4th key lime martini), and he said to me,
"It's not working, stop trying."
And I also don't know if I was just super sensitive because of the alcohol, or maybe just sexually frustrated by looking at so many unavailable hot guys, but I kinda freaked out. "Oh! Stop trying, huh? Hey Chris! Zorro here said I should STOP TRYING! I'm not funny! I'm not cute!! I should just STOP TRYING!!!"
"I think you're funny and cute," replied Chris.
And D. put down his drink and walked away without so much as a, "fuck you bitch."
Had I been trying to get his number, I may have been upset at his sudden departure, but I think I was more disappointed not to get hit on by one of the few women there, as that would have truely made be feel fabulous.
* to see Transamerica together, which was taken out of theaters on Thursday
** or because we were just a party of 2 and all the other people waiting were groups of lots
*** I turn into Beavis when I say the name of that place. Bump. he he he he he he ...
*****
I shopped at a Wegman's for the first time today. My love is like wooaahhh...
So my friend Chris visited Friday night, and because our original plans* fell through due to procrastination, we decided to hit Philly to find me a spring jacket (unsuccessful, but SPRING!!!), and then we went to a restaurant, which had a line out the door, but due to how fantastic and important we look**, we got right in.
After dinner, we walked around a little, planning to pop into a couple places and get drinks. However, after sitting at the bar at Brasserie Perrier for 5 minutes and not getting so much as a drink menu, we decided to move on, ending up at Bump***, a gay bar on 13th.
An altogether new experience for me, I wasn't sure what to do. My usual modus operandi is to walk in, adjust my boobs to enhance my cleavage, and scout the place out for guys who aren't too hot (because then they are cocky), but who also aren't perpetual Wingmen (no losers, please). No matter how often I say to myself before a night out, "This is a night out with friends, I'm not looking for a man," really, I'm always looking for a man. So it was indeed a strange feeling walking into a bar, where there is alcohol, and not thinking I'd at least get to use my buzz to chat up some fellas.
But you know what happened? I suddenly became obsessed with the idea of turning into Carrie Bradshaw and having gay men think I am Fabulous. After the raspberry cosmopolitan and the first of the key lime martinis, the hot bartender just winked at me and never collected payment.
Oh I was hot shit.
Sitting next to the drink corral where the waiters come to pick up their drinks turned out to be quite convenient, as this is also where the bar's patrons walked up to order. I smiled at them, I made witty remarks regarding their drink choices, and then I met a guy named Demarco.
Apparently Demarco was new on the Philly gay scene, fresh from New Orleans, and being "put out there" by his buddy, whose name I cannot remember because it wasn't stupid and he wasn't an asshole. Buddy was quite enthusiastic and friendly, while Demarco was dark and mysterious. However, it was D. who called me "adorable," so I wasn't altogether crushed when Buddy had to leave (9 a.m. meeting) and it was D. who hung back behind Chris and me and ordered another drink.
I had fun making conversation, asking D. questions, and having a regular chat with a new person in a bar (despite the fact that it was me doing most of the talking). But then? Well I'm not sure if it's because I told him he reminded me of Zorro and then did the Z-with-a-sword swishing motion, or because he simply was a miserable person, but I asked him how he didn't make an ugly face whilst drinking his Grey Goose and water (as I sipped my 4th key lime martini), and he said to me,
"It's not working, stop trying."
And I also don't know if I was just super sensitive because of the alcohol, or maybe just sexually frustrated by looking at so many unavailable hot guys, but I kinda freaked out. "Oh! Stop trying, huh? Hey Chris! Zorro here said I should STOP TRYING! I'm not funny! I'm not cute!! I should just STOP TRYING!!!"
"I think you're funny and cute," replied Chris.
And D. put down his drink and walked away without so much as a, "fuck you bitch."
Had I been trying to get his number, I may have been upset at his sudden departure, but I think I was more disappointed not to get hit on by one of the few women there, as that would have truely made be feel fabulous.
* to see Transamerica together, which was taken out of theaters on Thursday
** or because we were just a party of 2 and all the other people waiting were groups of lots
*** I turn into Beavis when I say the name of that place. Bump. he he he he he he ...
*****
I shopped at a Wegman's for the first time today. My love is like wooaahhh...
posted by Jess at 7:41 PM
7 Comments:
Yes, Demarco (POLO!) was just obviously not a nice gay boy. Andyouarefunnyandcutesothere.
Whinger - I totally realize this. Chris is a nice gay boy. Unfortunately, he doesn't live in the area. Otherwise, I'd totally be his hag. And the hag of all his friends. And that term is fine. I almost used it until I got nervous it might offend someone. But since you said it first... !
Ankia - Ha! I thought the SAME thing when I heard his name! But the fact that he looked like Zorro and I could do the swishy motion totally took over.
1. Totally not a nice gay boy.
2. I miss my Chris! make him move down.
3. If I were there I would have hit on you. I did decide to be a lesbian this weekend. Anth was more excited than dismayed. I may have to rethink this plan...
AND
4. You are fabulous, and cute, and funny...and I don't know what you could have been trying to do with a guy from Bump anyhow, except for make a new friend, and you are totally friendly. WTF? asshole Zorro.
oh no! I didn't see that coming at the end, there. yucky, mean gay boy!
echh - you can do so much better. :)
ALSO...am so sad that when you went to Brasserie my pimp wasn't there. That is where I met him afterall...
jess, you are fabulous. and mr. polo is funny looking, so who cares. obviously you hit a sore spot with his lame-butt drink. i shudder to think of how moody he must be about regular things!
christine, your no.3 caught me by surprise and made me spit on my laptop a little b/c i burst out laughing. good luck with restrategizing.
Christine - I'm sorry, but as perpetual singletons, I have made my lesbian pact with Al. We'll think about making room for you.
Claire - Next time I will work my magic harder on the boy with the diamond encrusted watch!
Janie - For sure! He'll never get a hag with an attitude like that!
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