Friday, January 30, 2004

Eating habits...

I'm driving and checking voicemail while sipping on fruit punch on my way to work.

Claire from SprintPCS: You have two new messages. First new message:
Gianni: Yeah...Where are you? I've just checked into my hotel. About to have breakfast and then stop by a trunk show at Versace in South Beach. Call it!

Why is one of my best friends on an abrupt vacation in Miami with a mystery man!? Scandalous!? This leaves me to hold it down in Atlanta all by myself this weekend. What am I gon' do!?

I am on my cellphone with Ol' Piece as I walk in the door of Dusty's Barbecue. Three Asian guys (one with cornrows) and a black guy are seated near the "To Go Orders" counter and they hold strong eye contact as I approach them and the waiter behind the register. I know my 6'4, 175lb frame dressed in a vintage Camel jacket and Diesel jeans carries a bit of a presence with it. But, being gay, I've also learned to hold stares out of the need to know what the other person (people) are giving. Is it time for me to buck up and dare a bitch to get on my level? Or is it simply nature's force of attraction--gaydar? I held my stare as long as I could until I was at the service counter. It would have required me to walk backwards if I wanted to remain at attention. And that wouldn't have been too cute. So, I do all of this while continuing a conversation on my cell phone. Then I get to the counter and place my order. I can feel all eight eyeballs piercing my latissimus dorsi. I attempt to manage three conversations simultaneously (Ol' Piece, Waiter, Table of Four).

Me to Ol' Piece: Hold on.
Me to Waiter: Can I get a shredded pork sandwich with fries and a large Coke?
Me to Ol' Piece: I really don't feel I owe you any obligation into telling you of my whereabouts last night.
Table of Four: incomprehensible chatter...Yeah he's gay. His shoes match his jacket. more incomprehensible chatter

I turn around (cell phone to ear) and face the table while making full eye contact. Their conversation ceases. They begin to talk amongst themselves as their food arrives. I walk to the adjacent table in front of them and take a seat to wait on my "To Go" order. I discreetly observe their demeanor and conclude that they're probably straight and simply making commentary just as I do when I'm with my friends. No need to go all Stonewall!! However, this is the attention that I love.

I am going home to watch Oprah's Birthday Bash for the fourth time. I will hold up a glass and toast along with John Travolta and Gayle King. I will sit there with whatever fast food I pick up (probably Popeyes) on my way home and celebrate again and again and again. Happy Birthday, Oprah!

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