This episode begins at the Brave New Workshop, where I attended the Fringe Festival Lottery with Tim Wick and Jena Young of Fearless Comedy Productions. Their production company has agreed to front the production costs of a prospective one-man show in the Fringe Festival, but first you have to get through the lottery, in which your show number is written on a ping-pong ball and you cross your fingers for half an hour. I wanted to bring them Thank You cards but procrastinated. The whole thing was awkward! They were taking such a chance on me, and yet you have to leave it up to fate, and I didn't necessarily want to get my hopes up, because a lottery is just based on luck, and maybe I'm not supposed to try to break into show business at age 26 ....
Fifteen minutes into the drawing, the man with the computer speaks up. "#159: Libra Moon Productions, "They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They?"
It's very exciting, y'all. I even got shameless publicity out of it! I feel really inspired and motivated to put on a great show, which means that I have almost started writing it. I have had a wonderful time talking to gay men at the bars about the concept of aging. Even Muscle Mary has been nice with his time! I misjudged Muscle Mary and completely forgive him for the time he rolled his eyes at me at Lawrence's post-Pride party. I don't hold grudges, I just remember things.
February kicked off with Jared's birthday! I couldn't attend the daytime festivities, but I was happy to see him (and his mom!) at The Saloon that night. I am rocking a Topman blazer that I had no business buying, so I was sure to be photographed in it as often as possible.
I invited Peter to come with me, as I knew his heart was heavy after his break-up with Chuck, but he told me he had too much homework. WORST EXCUSE EVER! Because I was a psych major in my failed college days, I told him that my superego was proud of him but that my id was disappointed.
Joey and I caught up at T.J.'s bar while Liam was in his own world. I was talking to T.J. about stand-up and realized I must have been sounding like a pompous asshole, because at one point he said he was going to turn up the music because he was sick of people. It was a good reality check that I am still a struggling retail gay and nobody cares if you are on YouTube. Philip even joined our group for a brief moment, and I temporarily got over my paranoia of the Pretty Girl Mafia taking a hit out on me. I give all credit to Sina. Two of the three Pink Ladies were next to us, and Jim Wilson seemed to be in and out of it. At the end of the night he tried dancing with me and I completely froze because a) it's rare that my old ass is even on the dance floor these days as it would get in the way of drinking, and b) it's JIM WILSON!! Who has abs that can be used as a cheese grater!! I stood there awkwardly like a seventh-grader, and then he ran away. It will never happen or be spoken of again.
For various reasons (budget, schedule, liver health), I did not want to go out the following Sunday, but Peter invited me out and I hadn't seen him since the break-up. Chuck was flying back from his vacation the same day, and at first Peter wanted me to make sure Chuck wasn't going to The Saloon, but then he started drinking and was really hoping to run into him. Awkward. They both respect that I am still friends with the other, and as I said last week, it was kind of both of them to reach out to me and not expect me to take sides. The difficulty for me is that I have never had a relationship of any kind, so there's no advice that I can tell them to make them feel better. I have nothing to compare with Peter's pain. When he discussed being paranoid about running into Chuck at some point, I told him that The Saloon is a big bar, and he shouldn't worry because I successfully avoided Star Quarterback for six months. As if a cute boy who you have never spoken to but once drunk Facebooked is the same thing as an 18-month relationship ending. At least I knew better not to bring up Kevin.
Anyway, save for one brief tearful moment by the bathroom, Peter was fine, and somehow, I wasn't. I blame Bjorn and tequila.
Bjorn is a comic friend of mine and he and his boyfriend Jody have been delightful sexual mentors (by this, I mean that I bitch to them about my celibacy and they offer sex and dating tips). Bjorn had a very expensive brand of lubricant with him.
"You need to buy this," he said.
"Where do I get it?" I asked.
"You have to go to this leather shop," he said. "But it's not in the phonebook. You have to go in the basement of this house on Groveland Street that looks like a church, and then you go through a hallway, and then you knock on a red door three times, and if they answer it, you can go in, and that is where the leather sex shop is."
Off my look of terror, he simply handed me the bottle. "But now we have to make sure you can use it!"
Unfortunately, Bjorn didn't just decide to talk to anybody. He went right up to Ryan Robertson, who has become my #1 bar crush lately. I emphasize that it is only a crush. It is not deep like Kevin, nor do I have chats with him outside of the bar like I do with someone like Piano Man.
Stoppp, I wanted to yell to Bjorn. I actually know this guy....
"Hey!" Bjorn yelled to Ryan. "Are you a top?!"
"Jeah," Ryan said. I think he really did say it like that. Ryan Robertson talks an awful lot like Ryan Lochte when I think about it, which is probably why I want to bang him so bad.
"You should fuck Jakey tonight," Bjorn said without a hint of sarcasm, and then I ordered two shots of tequila.
Then it turned into Opposite Day, because Liam had to prop me up! It was karma for all the times i have made fun of him and Jared for being sloppy drunk. I just wanted to go home, but Liam got invited to an after party and was letting me tag along! This was a nightmare! I was at a fancy house party (the same apartment from Halloween) and I could barely stand up! I had to excuse myself to the host's bed. "Why is Liam taking care of Jakey?!" someone asked in the distance. I woke up at 5 in the morning next to the host (who was a total gentleman and did not undress either of us), and Walk of Shamed it, but not before making Liam call my phone so I could find it in the apartment. That poor host. I think I got Clarins foundation all over his pillow ...
I biffed it on the ice, but recovered and made it to the Dunn Brothers attached to my building. I don't think the barista knew I was walk-of-shaming it until I told him to have a good night when it was 7 A.M.
I went to the 19 with Chuck the next night, and Ryan Robertson was there, too! I think I redeemed myself by not being fall-down drunk, but I did feel self-conscious as one does not get pretty when they go to the 19, and I was sporting casual wear and a five o'clock shadow. I tried to make nice with Ryan's twink companion, but he wasn't very friendly. He told me his name was Trouble, and I knew that couldn't have been true. We schmoozed with Muscle Mary and Danny from The Saloon, and seeing gay bartenders as customers is like seeing a dog walking on its hind legs, to steal an entire analogy from that scene in Mean Girls when the kids see Mrs. Norbury shopping.
The next Thursday was Valentine's Day! My heterosexual brother is in love with Robyn and even went to her concert at First Avenue (whereas I didn't. Gay card revoked!), and since we are both single and ready to mingle, I thought it would be fun for us to go to the DJ Flip Phone event at Honey, which was titled "Heartbreakers' Ball Featuring Robyn". Basically, every other song was a Robyn song, and we both jumped at the chance! We arrived at about 10:30, and I again wore the velvet Topman blazer. This was a stupid idea, as I did not know how much dancing we were going to be doing. After two songs, I was gross and sweaty, and I kept having to excuse myself to get water. I felt so old! But it was a great crowd -- a mix of gay and straight -- and we all felt united in our love of the Swedish songstress. We didn't stay long enough to hear my favorite song ("Cry When You Get Older"), but I was surprised by how emotional I got when they played "Show Me Love". At first, it's a silly little teenybopper pop song (one of her two U.S. hits in the 1990's), but you get to the bridge, and it's just as deep and sad as her current stuff. No, really.
I LOVE YOU
I MISS YOU
I'LL MAKE SURE EVERYTHING WILL BE ALL RIGHT
I'LL GIVE YOU MY HEART
IF YOUUUU JUST SHOW ME LOVE
EVERY DAY AND EVERY NIGHT
After the one-two punch of Mariah Carey "Fantasy" being played right before Robyn's "Call My Girlfriend", Dane and I lost our voices and our bladder control. He graciously dropped me off at The Saloon, which was having a Hot Pink Party theme.
I met up with Liam, Joey and Quinn. Liam shared that he had tickets to KDWB's Pajama Party at The Pourhouse the following night, and I invited myself because I am a selfless friend that way. I schmoozed with Tall Boy, but only when his boyfriend wasn't around, because his boyfriend is mean and rude. In my head we are having an affair. In Tall Boy's head, I am a random goofy person at the bar. I have accepted this.
Someone criticized my choice of wearing a red tie on a pink shirt, and I can guarantee you that person did not have a Valentine. And on the real, who does that? What is the point of criticizing my outfit? Am I going to go home and change my tie just to appease your opinion? I wouldn't even do that if you were willing to pay
for the cabfare.
A silly argument was had, and Quinn and Joey left soon after. Liam stayed overnight and we planned our pajama party outfits. That night, we arrived at 5:30 P.M. because the first 120 people to get yellow wristbands got two minutes to talk to world-renowned psychic Gary Spivey. Liam and I fit right in as we stood in the lobby alone for half an hour in our finest loungewear. I wore my John Cena pajamas and a "Go long" T-shirt that made me miss Star Quarterback.
The way there was the most fun, as we were in the sidewalk in our pajamas. "What if everyone thinks we're just walk of shaming it right now?" I cried. "We don't even know his name!" The whole thing felt like we were on a Real Housewives excursion. I admit that it's my self-delusion and denial of my poor life choices and finances that drives it, but I become more and more convinced that I am on a Real Housewives show. Sometimes I even sneak off to the bathroom to do a talking head confessional.
 | |
| This could really be about any of us. |
Anygay, we spent most of our time in line for the psychic reading. Liam had to leave at 9 and didn't even get his reading! While we had fun bonding with the ladies in line with us, in retrospect I wish we would have just mingled and danced with hot straight bro-ski's. Liam's strongest suit is his willingness to talk to strangers and meet them (I'm actually shy at first, believe it or don't), and it makes our adventures that much more fun.
I was finally on my way to meet Gary Spivey, and I was texting Erin what I should say! She stressed that I should not talk about boys but should ask about career. As I was finally next to Gary Spivey, I blurted out, "I have anxiety about dating!!"
"Are you interested in males?" Gary Spivey asked, because he is an amazing psychic. Then he said I am going to date someone who is Latino with a hint of Asian. If that is you, or someone you know, have your people call my people. Also, Hint of Asian sounds like an amazing cologne that can only be purchased at Macy's.
It turns out that I love The Pourhouse! It is very large and spacious, and there are a lot of friendly fratty douchey muscle bro-ski's. I bonded with them while flirting with sexy lady bartenders. I lost my Listerine strips and was paranoid about my breath, so I kept ordering Rumpelmintz. A nice guy bought me a shot and then told me he was bisexual, and apparently I need to start cruising at the Pourhouse instead of The Saloon. I'm just kidding.
I snuck in the front row to see Skyler Grey perform (hooray for being little!), and she was AWESOME. At first I wasn't crazy about the Bicycle song, but it's my crack now. Also, she has rocking abs. For a moment I even forgot that I was surrounded by hot shirtless straight guys.
I didn't go out that weekend. Joey sent me a long text about how he was mad at someone, and instead of trying to view both sides, I immediately reached for the popcorn. What side of the couch will I be on at the reunion? What questions will Andy Cohen ask me? It reminded me of when we all practiced our Housewives intro lines.
Joey: "I'm not a slut, but...."
Quinn: "I'm not rude, I just don't like you."
Jakey: "Minneapolis is gay high school, and I'm the class clown!"
Oh, who am I kidding? If I am anyone on a Real Housewives show, I am Mama Elsa.
I really do need to work on this show! It will either be my big break and ticket out of this town, or I will be a local laughing stock. I have decided there is no room for in between.
Next week: I fall in love with a drag queen!
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