"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!"