In which I am flattered. ..Or not?
Last Friday George and I went to Blackstone’s. Yes, alright, take it in. The old married couple went out on the town. And get this – it was for the third weekend in a row. Right? Right?!? Who’s fancy now? (The answer is us.)
We have some new gays in our lives – Ryan, who works with George, and Peter. Who also works with George. It’s always a delicate situation to make new friends, and even more so with new gays. You never know how much of your true self to show, or how much of their true selves you are seeing. Thank god they seem normal (…so far) (Hi Boys!). They are cheerful and personable and don’t have any obvious ticks or cringe-inducing social tendencies. And thankfully, they think we don’t, either. Heh.
We were hangin’ with the men at Blackstone’s, chatting and laughing and minding our own business, when we were approached by a, shall we say, “diminutive” gay. He was staggeringly drunk. He pointed at George, at me, and at Peter, and told us that he could “take” us all. I’m assuming that he meant that he could beat us up (incidentally, he could not), and not “take” in a biblical sense (again, he could not). He boozily went on his way.
A little later in the evening Ryan was at the bar getting more libations when our little drunken friend made his re-approach. He pointed once more to George and announced “You are pretty”. George, in turn, blinked silently at the tiny gay. He swiveled to Peter and loudly stated “You are pretty, too”. Peter thanked him warmly. Then he turned to me, pointed, squinted, paused, and yelled out “But you? You are HANDSOME”.
So – thoughts? Is this as good as pretty? Am I the manlier of our trio? Should I assume that it is ok to be handsome and not pretty? Someone bolster my flagging ego, quickly!