Captain Oblivious, that is.
So, I took myself out for a beer tonight.
To my gayborhood watering hole.
Shocker, I know.
As usual, everyone ignored me, so I just sat there and refreshed my Instagram.
And then my incompetent-would-be-a-compliment boss walked in with some dinner companions for a post dinner out drink, so I had to excuse myself…after making the minimally acceptable niceties. I’m not an animal.
So I repaired to the video gaming lounge.
And won $300, thank you gayby Jesus.
While I was there, I struck up random convo with a regular I recognized and his friend? Date?
Just little chits and chats.
Until someone I faguely recognized walked in.
Someone I had coitused a few months back.
Portland is just too damned small!
And I just sat there and focused on pushing a button as I seethed, thinking, “He said he was leaving town!” and “He didn’t tell me he was gay-famous!”
I can rally.
The Regular had greeted him and was cheerily chatting him up as I had quietly gnashed my teeth, “How’s the singing and songwriting business?”
Just back from Palm Springs, it seems. Don’t worry, it wasn’t this guy:
Like I could get that…
Yada-Yada-Yada, he loses his seed money and bails for a haircut.
As I’m being all surreptitious and eavesdropping on the post-departure conversation, it becomes clear that this guy has a few self-produced CDs and plays enough gay-circuit festivals and bars that probably I should have known him, alas…
I really just don’t pay that much attention.
Did I mention I won $300?
That’s my take away. But if Steve Grand wants to throw himself my way…zero objections to that!