Glad you’re not here. Just kidding. I almost lapsed into the maudlin Christmas sucks I have to work poor me nonsense while waiting for the subway but face it kiddies, poor me just ain’t this cat’s bag. And this from a faggot that had a year, hunny.
Anyway, we had a delightful Christmas Eve dinner down at Café Torino. We being me, The Ex, Neo, Neo’s “ex” P--- and the always delightful ”Ashley”. Yes I use the word “delightful” often. It was a two hour affair partly because we were in no hurry and partly because the service was unhurried as well. That wasn’t a complaint, it was just all very relaxed with time between courses and then coffee and after dinner liquers and all damn civilized and pleasant with a lot of , yes, delightful conversations and much polite laughing and smiling.
Afterwards we came up to the bar to say hi to the kids at work and because The Hellcat's mom was in town from Cali and they were going to have a little Christmas Eve love fest at the bar. I had offered to pick up something (veggie tray or something) but he never got back to me. Not surprising, since I’ve got no phone. My phone has been cutting on and off for about three weeks now and I seriously haven’t had the time to call Verizon and inquire as to what the fuck? I honestly hardly ever use the damn thing anyway as e-mail usually gets the job done. I may consider switching to Vonage or another company and just go to internet phone service. The Ex didn’t even make the trip uptown as he wanted to rest up for his planned outing at Urge. “Outing” consisting of getting drunk and ogling naked gogo boys. He’s got this fetish about guys naked or nearly naked in public places. It really turns him on in a cheap, pathetic dirty old man kind of way. On the eve of most holidays, the owner at Urge let’s the boys go naked and (gasp!) with hard-ons and The Ex is right there with a goofy tequila and Budweiser grin on his face staring at guys he has no chance in hell of having.
Neo, “Ashley” and P--- cut out after a couple of minutes partly because Neo didn’t want to be there and partly because Jabba The Drunk couldn’t resist stirring things up by suggesting that Neo might have to work Christmas day after all. Never mind that it wasn’t true and never mind that Jabba wasn’t working on Christmas so how it was even something he needed to be concerned about is beyond me. No, strike that, it is his concern in that he’s not happy unless he’s causing distress in others. His concern grows exponentially in relation to how much time he spends cooped up in that office funneling in Dewars and coming up with plots and scenarios that may or may not have any basis in reality. But I digress.
So that left me. In quite the good mood. Fat and relaxed on a couple glasses of Merlot and some B&B. So I bellied up and got properly introduced to The Hellcat's mom. Turns out she’s from that little town in Cali what got walloped last week from that earthquake. I always worry in advance of meeting new people that I won’t have anything to say or appear stupid. I just need to remind myself that I learned a long time ago that in the art of conversation it really isn’t about what you have to say. It’s all about asking the right questions. People like to talk. They like it even more when they think you’re listening. It’s lots of eye contact and the occasional light touch on the arm and lots of “right, uh-huh”. And people think you’re “just wonderful” and “so nice”. So I ended up hanging out for a couple of hours sipping petit sirah (I am so gay!) and solving the world’s problems with M---‘s mom. I had intended to join The Ex at his “outing” But my all night 21 episode Smallville marathon had finally caught up with me ( and I’m not even a fan, just an insomniac) and I grew weary. Besides, to me, watching naked gogo boys is sort of like going shopping without money. It’s fun at first, but after a while fun gives way to frustration as you’re staring at things (In this case, uncut Latin cock) you can’t have. I went home, and slept contentedly.
Christmas Day I got up around 11:30 and clocked the news. Bomb scares, mad cow, the pope is unintelligible. Right. Fixed myself an enormous plate of scrambled eggs, cheese and ham while simultaneously fixing a dinner and preparing to come to work. If you can call sitting at the bar sipping coffee, blogging, answering the phone and saying Merry Christmas to people every ½ hour work. But I’m here. And I resisted feeling sorry for myself because I truly am pretty happy right now. I feel good.
I started this entry today intending to make someone who is feeling alone today feel a little better but fuck that. I’m so sorry gentle readers, but I can’t give you that. What you’re looking for can’t be found outside yourself. What you want comes from learning to be happy with what you have. Being honest about what you want. And being strong enough to get up off your ass and go get it.
Merry Christmas Y’all.
