Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Final Fantasy 69: The Legend of the Hottest Bartender In The World
The Straight Boy Who Loved Me

Ah yes the Saga of the Straight Hot Blonde Bartender Continues

Part Un

Part twa

For some odd tax related reason, some of our favorite sunday night haunts have closed down, but the very same party with the very same people simply move to another location. Every move has caused me to worry about losing my favorite flirty bartender! Thankfully he's been moved along with everyone else and I've seen him about two other times before last sunday.

I had asked him to be a coverboy for Qr, he had told me the following weekend that he thought about calling me but that he simply didn't know about "being on the cover for a gay mag," he said this while shrugging his nicely defined arms up, his longish blonde hair flopping to one side...

He sort of looks like the jock from Another Gay Movie only with a smaller nose, face, and longer blonde hair. Whatever, it isn't like I thought I actually had a chance with him.

Until this Sunday.

I thought he wouldn't be there, on account of Fly G finding out beforehand for me that he wouldn't be there from his bartender who had phoned him (sure you can go back and read that sentence again, I won't mind).

We went anyway, and before getting my drink, I watched Fly G, and with wide eyes, point towards the bar. I turned my head and there he was, standing tall, shirtless, and with a nice haircut.

Giddy, I walked over and we said hi again, and we get back into that flirty groove, he puts his hand on my shoulder, and I reassure him that I have the answer to making him comfortable with being in a gay mag.

"For our irony issue, we'll put you in a shirt that says 'straight boy' on it!" He laughs, he seems to like the idea. The hell do I know if a straight boy on a gay magazine cover is ironic...I think it is...the point is it's working!

He turns to get my drink, I think no one who looks like that can possibly be THAT straight. This is an instinctual feeling that has proved me invaluable. There's a difference between a real straight guy who is being goofy around a gay guy "sit on my lap, hur hur" to a straight guy who could go there with ya.

Two smelly boats crashing in the dark of the night, that sort of thing. Plus some straight/confused boys love some attention, and I give GREAT attention.

He turns around and hands me a drink, and a crumpled piece of paper.

I check to see what it is, thinking it's a dollar bill or something. Its a note, with his handwriting on it.

It reads: "Har___ the Straight Boy" followed by his number.

It's good to be ze king.

1 comment:

bagel said...

and then what happened?!