Krispy Kremes With A C-List Celebrity (And other New York stories)

I find myself with no choice but to take the time to sit down and write an entry today. The past few days have been fairly jam-packed with stories to tell, and the next few days promise to be even more so. So, for the sake of my sanity I've decided to sit down and share some of the events of the week, thus far, with my dear blog readers. ;)

Sunday night I got an email informing me about an extra ticket to the Daytime Emmy Awards that was mine if I wanted it. The problem is that the awards are tommorrow, and finding out on Sunday night gave me barely enough notice to prepare. An outfit must be picked out, hair must be done, and I have to put myself in a frame of mind to network and yet try to have fun at the same time. (Natch, me being me, none of these things are still done.)

Monday night was work at the Mexican joint ... At one point during the evening, I had two tables of hot guys (and their friends) sitting side by side. At table one was an incredibly gorgeous, and quite polite gay guy who was getting sloshed with his friends on Margaritas. At table two was another cute gay guy who I was doing my best to flirt with throughout their dinner and drinks and whose "fag hags" seemed to find me witty and funny.

Well as soon table one finally left, the peeps at table two were all abuzz about who had been sitting there. Apparently, the incredibly gorgous, and quite polite gay guy was a judge from "America's Top Model" and they were all drooling over him.

As I'd never seen the show, and didn't know who he was till after he left I didn't really have much interest ... but it's still a neat story to tell nonetheless.

After getting out of work around midnight, I headed to the internet cafe in Times Square to check email and such. Out of boredom (shut up bitches!) I decided to hang out in the gay.com chat rooms for a bit.

I started chatting with a cute boy, who as it turns out was also in the same internet cafe. After typing back and forth for a bit, we decided to meet outside and perhaps go for a drink.

He came out finally, as I was almost finished with my smoke and we chatted for a few. He was cute, and also seemed very nice. I surmised that I wasn't going to be brutally murdered if I went to hang out with him ... so off we went to Barrage, a trendy mid-town gay bar where we parked ourselves on a comfy leather couch and chatted for almost two hours.

He declared himself a bit of a "Gay NYC C-List Celebrity", as he's somewhat popular amongst a core group of fans here in the Big Apple. He's in a band (actually, he mostly IS the band) and is very passionate about his music.

We were chit chatting when his cell phone rang, and after checking messages he began scrolling through his phone book looking for a number. I joked with him that had I been back in NYC longer, I would probably have been able to pick out at least one person from his phone who he knew. (It's a weird biproduct of knowing a lot of people, wherever it is I chose to call home.)

No sooner had the words come out of my mouth when I caught a familiar name on his screen. Yes, an ex of mine, who I had helped moved to NYC many, many years ago and who has now become a big of a popular club DJ. "Band Boy" is having him DJ a big promotional party he has coming up and we laughed about the irony of the situation.

After leaving the bar we wandered around midtown, and somehow fell upon the subject of poppers. (For those of you who don't know what those are, ask a gay friend.) He suggested it'd be "fun" to stop at one of 8'th Avenues porn shops and pick some up ... just to do for fun.

At this point I was sensing that this guy was actually pretty cool. And there was definitely a chance of us hooking up. But I wasn't sure that was going to be a good idea... I don't have time to like anybody right now, and not much interest in doing so ... and I feared if I hooked up with this guy that I might end up digging him ... even just a little.

But we bought poppers, and headed back to his place. He showed me his messy but colorful room, and we chatted for a few minutes before breaking out the poppers. Kissing came next. And then ... well I'll spare the gory details. We didn't do anything too serious, but there was definitely some play goin on.

Afterwards, I decided to make a rather hasty retreat.

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, cuddling up to me and preparing to go to sleep. "My bed is super comfy."

I knew I shouldn't. It wouldn't help the whole "aloof" thing I was trying to pull off... but it was comfortable ... and I was comfortable. And so I stayed.

The next morning we woke up and he had a craving for Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Now there's a location in Chelsea where they bake them and sell them fresh and hot right out of the oven. This was what he wanted. So I through on a hat, and we took a nice 20 block walk down to Chelsea, where I sat and watched him gourge himself on SEVEN doughnuts, knowing that it was a bad sign I found this more adorable then disgusting.

We said goodbye on the corner as he got back on the subway, and I headed back to my hotel. It was a cool night, and as I walked down 8'th avenue I thought to myself that if that's all it was, then it still wasn't such a terrible thing.

Does this mean I'm growing up? That I'm maturing? That I might finally have other priorities in life rather then being in a relationship?

Yeah, I think it might. But the jury isn't all back yet ... more to come on this notion another time.

The next day at work was a double, and quite eventful. A woman at one of my tables was on her way to see a show playing across the street. "Altar Boys", a new off-Broadway show that's been getting a lot of buzz.

"I hear it's great," I said, making chit-chat.

"Would you like a free ticket?" she ressponded.

As it turns out her friend is the producer and she has a couple of free tickets and is trying to get word of mouth to spread about the show. I couldn't go last night, but she gave me her card and told me to call her because she had a free ticket for Thursday (tonight) as well.

WOW! A nice gesture... but it turned out not to be the nicest of the week.

Finally after a long night of tequilla and salsa, Doug (the other queer at work) and I decided to go out for a drink. We took turns buying rounds, watching a drag show (my first one in a LONG time) and chatting.

During the conversation I mentioned that I was staying in a hotel while apartment hunting and Doug performed what might be the "kind act of the week" in my book.

As it turns out, he's living in a 2 bedroom apartment by himself for the next two weeks, and had a spare bedroom.

"No sense you wasting your money on a hotel, you can come stay with me."

And so at 3 in the morning, we hopped on the subway, traveled down to the village, got my stuff and headed up to his place.

His apartment is a block away from the restaurant and only a few short blocks from my other job, so it's mega convenient. Plus now I have two weeks to put some serious money aside for a place to live. A very kind act from a co-worker, that not only helped me out a lot, but touched me as well.

If I ever hear anyone say that New Yorkers are rude or unkind one more time, I may just have to slap them in the face.

So ... that brings me to today. A big birthday bash for a friend tonight (where the guest list reads like a who's who of the NYC theater industry) and then a pre-emmy party afterwards. Then tommorrow, the mad search for a tux and a haircut and what will probably be a last minute dash to Radio City Music Hall for the big event. I'm so nervous that I almost had a panic attack this afternoon.

But... it's my life...and I'm living it again. Sometimes exciting ... but never boring. And ya know what? I'm having a fucking blast!

I heart New York! :)

Idolicious!!!

Now bear in mind before I tell this story that I'm not especially enamored with celebrities. I worked in an industry where I was constantly surrounded by "famous" people.

It takes seeing someone whose work I truly enjoy to give me that "starstruck" feeling.

Well on Friday the 13'th, I had not only a great "celebrity encounter" but also my first experience waiting on an "Idol" ... literally.

Constantine has always been my favorite "American Idol" and I screamed and yelled at the television when America decided to vote him off a few weeks ago. He could have and should have won that competition. Oh well ... it's really a popularity contest and that's just how it goes.

Last night right after starting my shift, a rather tall man with long hair came into the restaurant with a couple of girls. I noticed him immediately cause he was hot! (Natch!) He was asking at the front counter if his friends could get margaritas to go, so they could sit in the sunnier part of the courtyard, where we don't order table service.

I took a closer look and sure enough, it was Constantine. I watched helplessly as he and his friends left, and took a seat in a bright and sunny spot in the courtyard, a short distance away. I was gabbing with one of the other girls about it, pointing and giggling.

About 30 minutes later, I was getting chips and salsa for a table and I saw Constantine and his friends pass by me, being ushered out to our outside dining area. I immediately dropped everything I was doing, and got a setup for their table and headed over.

"Hi guys," I said casually. "We have a special tonight on $3 frozen margaritas ... can I get you guys something to drink?"

His friends both ordered frozen, he ordered his on the rocks with no salt. He flashed his winning smile as I took the order and I melted.

I was determined that I was going to act cool, even though just thinking about this guys voice made me want to melt.

As it turns out, Jose (one of my least favorite servers I work with) decided to take the table from me even though he had 8 other tables and I had 2 ... and Constantine's table was on the border of our section.

I wasn't going to sweat it though... I just made sure that anytime something was needed at the table, I was there to get it first. (Immature, but whatever! I'd never WAITED on a celebrity before. It was kind of a novelty.)

I gave no acknowledgement all through the meal, but people sitting around him did. A few other customers wandered over intermittently to say hello, to chat and one even had him take a picture with them on their camera phone.

I've always said those things were useless toys that no one really needed.

I was cursing myself that night for not having one.

At the end of the meal, Jose was nowhere to be found so Constantine nodded at me, and I walked over. "Can we get our check if you have a minute, man?" he asked.

I got the check, dropped it off and said "By the way, you have a great voice man."

He winked, flashed that winning smile again and said "Thank you very much."

Now that story, I can truly say is one of those "Only In New York" kinda things!

Queers, Queers, Everywhere!

There's one other server at the restaurant I work at who I've suspected might be gay. I, however, am not one of those gay men who's been blessed with the gift of "gaydar", so it's really only been a hunch.

Towards the end of the night tonight, I was getting hungry and decided to order some food from the kitchen.

"What do I want?" I wondered allowed as I was perusing the menu.

"Nothing with fish," he said with a glint in his eyes. "But you already know that."

AH-HA! I knew it!

Later as we were closing the restaurant he invited me to go to Avalon (a Sunday night gay club) with him and some friends. "If you don't mind hangin' out with a couple of gay guys." he added.

One of the other servers even asked him "You going out with your boyfriend tonight, or just friends?"

All this time, I've been worried about getting flack for being the only one who doesn't speak english, and so I haven't wanted to set myself apart even more by being "the gay one."

Apparently, I wasn't the only gay one. Just the only one hiding it. Hmmph! Imagine that!

We chatted for a while after closing, and I casually mentioned that my first bar ever was "Stonewall", which I think got the point across that I too am a cocksucker. I'm not sure he actually didn't already know, and wasn't just giving me an opportunity to say it myself, but this is the second time this week someone has assumed I was straight.

Hmm... maybe it's time to start wearing eyeliner to work?

Nah, that's a bit over the top.

Maybe just a nice lip gloss.

So Much To Do...

What a week it's been.

Cinco Da Mayo was my first day on the floor at the Mexican Restaurant I now work at in midtown. Does anyone know the Spanish equivalent to "Oi vey?!" Well ... if I knew it, I'd use it here, but I don't. In fact, I don't speak any Spanish at all ... and that's all everyone at my new restaurant DOES speak.

So the adjustment is taking a bit of time ... but I give it another week or two and I should start feeling comfortable at my new place of employment.

I've been staying at Skylar's this week, and it's been just wonderful. Coming home from work around 6 at night, ordering some food, smoking some pot and watching some TV with muh girl, before passing out at some ungodly early hour so I can get up around 9 the next morning and do it all over again.

I've actually started to get myself in a routine, which is both good and bad. Good because it makes it a lot easier for me to deal with all the change and the things that aren't so constant in my life right now. Bad because my residence as "Chez Skylar" must come to an end soon. One of the reasons I hate being a houseguest is because eventually you start to feel like you're going to wear out your welcome, whether you actually are or not. Skylar's been wonderful about having me here, but she's an independent girl, and soon it's going to be time for me to head over to my weekly hotel in the village, and check myself in there until I take the next step - moving into a more permanent address of my own.

It's probably going to be another month or so till that's able to happen. I'm thinking about waiting till summer, (Juneish) because that's when I'll be making the serious money at the restaurant. We have a large outdoor cafe (almost triple the amount of seats we have inside) and during nice summer days, it fills up and the servers make their most money.

In the meantime I have the next several days off from all obligations here in New York City, so I'm thinking about taking a trip to PA to see "The Rents" ... It's been since Thanksgiving since I saw them, and I'm due for a mini-vacation one of these days soon.

Speaking of PA ... last night while innocently chatting away in a Brooklyn chat room, I start chatting up some hottie 22 year old with tatoos and a punkish look.

"Is this Kevin?" he asks me.

Immediately I start looking at the picture for recognition. After staring at it for a few minutes it comes to me. David... this kid I used to hang out with during trips to PA about 6 years ago when he was 16 and I was 22. Last I heard (several years ago) he was going to school near the city and planned to move here after school. Sure enough, here he is ... in the Big Apple and working as the Wardrobe Supervisor for a popular and long-running off-Broadway show. (Which coincidentally is one of my favorites and to which he gets 4 comps a week... Hmmm.)

We chatted and it brought back more memories of the old days. The days when I was such a different person. That's been happening a lot to me lately, as I reconnect and resume friendships with people from years past. Memories I didn't even know I still had come flooding back to me ... reminding me of a different time and a different place. Some of those places were good ... some of the memories were good. And some ... not so much. But it's amazing to me the changes I've gone through over the years. More evolution of self then change I suppose. It's my belief that the core of who one is rarely changes... but the experiences in life shape who you are to become.

I know I haven't reached the end of that evolution yet, and perhaps nobody ever does. But I'm so aware of the change taking place in me right now and it's as scary as it is exhilirating.

As much trepidation as I've felt about my upcoming 29'th birthday (to quote my friend Ben who is having his this year also, "The first of many...") I also have an incredible excitement to find out exactly what kind of 30 year old man I'm going to grow into and what things my life will hold for me then. The first 28 years sure have been jam-packed.

Yeah, part of me wants to stay a "kid" forever ... but part of me is dying to know what adulthood has in store for me.

"The Bitch Ain't Got No Pants On..."

Since I've started this new journal, I've tried (if not nescesarily successfully) to give titles to my blog entries that have at least to me seemed appropriate.

So you might be wondering what in god's name this entries title could possibly refer to. What possible excitement could have happened in my life this weekend that would warrant such a title?

Nothing really. But ... it does still tie into it all.

I went to Maine for the weekend, and spent a couple of slow nights working at Friendly's for not very much money. My original plan was to stay until Monday morning and have my usual Sunday Maine night watching the new episode of "Desperate Housewives" with my buddy Jon while smokin' some pot. But ... a rather exciting thing did happen to me before I left for Maine that weekend.

One hour before getting on the bus I had an interview at, and was hired by a Manhattan Mexican joint. And I had to be there Monday morning at 11am. So ... I treked back, went to Skylar's, got comfy and slept for a few hours before I had to get up and get ready to go and train at my first NYC waiting job.

I used to think I was above that when I was here before. I was above it. I worked hard and built a small, but budding career. And I left it. And now I'm back, and I decided that any ridiculous notions I had that I was "above" waiting tables in New York was just ludicrous. I am greatful for anything that assists me in making my moving back to the one place I always feel the most alive in, an easier thing.

I'm a waiter in a New York City burrito joint... and I couldn't be fucking happier.

It's just one step in a staircase of goals I've set for myself.

And I came back to Skylar's house tonight... exhausted after a rather irritating (but still comical) day at my new job. (I'll post the story later ... It deserves it's own entry) I came back, had some grub with Skylar and smoked some pot while exchanging stories of our mutual "rough days at the office."

Skylar's sister is a go-go dancer... a beautiful one. And Skylar started showing me some pictures of her and her friends, posted on a website (www.clubraw.net for those of you who want visuals.) I was apalled yet entranced at the same time. These girls were so pretty ... but had decked themselves out like drag queens. (With the exception of Skylar's sister who somehow outshined her attire.) I looked at these pictures and wondered what made these girls feel the only way to be attractive was to look trashy.

As I pondered this question and how it related to the gay community as well, I looked up to see Skylar clicking to a picture of two girls, painted up like clowns, in what amounted to a bra and panties, posing for a normal "friday night out" picture.

I thought about how it seems that sometimes, in both the straight and gay world, you find people who somehow feel the only way to look attractive is to look easy. And it's that quality in them, that I fear drives away the people WITH the most quality in them.

As I stared at the whorey picture Skylar, in her typical brash and wonderful fashion busted out with, "Come on! What is that outfit?!"

"Yeah I guess it is kind of trashy!" I remarked.

"Trashy!?" she asked as though I'd just made the biggest understatement in the world.

"Well..." I began.

"KEVIN!" Skylar stopped me with. "The bitch ain't got no pants on!"