Baby you were born this way
Well aren’t you lucky? Another post thanks to my recent bout of insomnia. I’m gonna blame it on a mixture of stress, bitterness and the flu. So while my chamomile night night tea cools, I’ve gone nothing but time…
So as you may remember, Too Legit and I have been on the lookout for a main gay. She used to have one but he moved to Miami to be with his sugar daddy. And I have “good friend” gay but (1) he lives in Austin (2) I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be caught dead in cut off daisy duke shorts singing show tunes (hello, requirement… non-negotiable). So I’m sitting at my ex-favorite bar with my ex-favorite bartender¹ and chatting with some people everyone. Despite my normally stoic demeanor, get six beers in me and I’ll be your best friend (this helps to explain why I have about 8 numbers in my phone that I don’t recognize… but obviously I was super excited when I put them in because I used a lot of exclamation points. CHRISTA!! And Kayla I apparently liked so much I put in twice. Linda!!! Etc.) So I’m chatting with people and this guy sits down next to me and orders a drink. We start talking and I find out that he’s the manager of Aqua. THE. DRAG. SHOW. Holy Mary mother of gay jackpots! Um seriously. What’s better than a main gay who can decorate your house? A main gay who can decorate your house DRESSED UP LIKE CHER OR LADY GAGA.
So I cozy up to this guy thinking- make him my main gay, start hanging out and then get to know the “ladies” and swoop in and get one of them to be my main gay. Great plan right? Well, said guy is in fact, not gay (my bad but seriously how could I have possibly known that?) BUT it seems he has forgiven me for the misunderstanding since he wanted to take me to lunch today (oh ladies do not worry, I’m totally going to eat with him next week- cause at the very least we’re totally getting that plaque put above our VIP booth). So yay, potential for a best friend who can sing show tunes and teach you how to tuck your sack back (really you’d be amazed at how well they do this, it defies the laws of fucking gravity.)
¹Cupcake* (formerly known as DP) got mad at me the other night. For getting drunk. AT A BAR. To be an ass he cut me off. So to be a bitch I walked into the main bar, bought a beer, and came back to his bar. So I’m officially grounded from said bar which is fucking fine by me… cause if you can’t get drunk IN A BAR where the hell else can you?
*Cupcake was not, nor ever will be a term of endearment. It was a night of drinkings progression. Bar baby. Baby Bar. (take a few shots) Baby CAKES! (a few more shots) I got it I got it- CUPCAKE! Now he tells people its because he’s sweet and delicious and better unwrapped. Just remember ladies, cupcakes are bad for you
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