Note: I HATE that I can’t really describe anyone because people will get mad. That’s why I don’t though.
Thursday.
Sometimes the Foundation sucks any remaining energy out of me, but sometimes it’s one of the places that makes Milwaukee uniquely Milwaukee. Thursday nights there are good because the Riverwest freaks and regulars are more populous than the UW queer frat-hippie hybrids. DiNo and TC were sitting at the bar when I walked in, which was great. I expected the only person I knew would be Skeletor Madman--have I nicknamed him yet???--and that’s ok sometimes, but approaching 10pm he’d be pretty hammered, most likely, and those types of conversations aren’t exactly relaxing. DiNo was jumping and squealing due to her excitement upon discovering a kickass house for rent in Bayview. That lady certainly can convey excitement/spazz out on a level equal to my own. Sometimes I think she surpasses it!
When they left, Cheezit was done with his shift so he sat down. I try not to talk to him at rapid fire speed for at least a half an hour after he gets done because I understand he needs to chill a bit after serving drinks to both amiable social drinkers and obnoxious alcoholics for several hours. Note that I didn’t say I don’t talk to him at all. I really don’t know who can just be sitting with someone and not say anything for that long, especially me. Man I hate how I feel like I have to throw in these self-deprecating remarks. Anyway. The vodka these days has been not been provoking the high energy buzz it used to, and I was thinking of just jetting, but then Yells A lot arrived, which was really surprising because Thursdays aren’t a night she goes out, generally. Some gay boys were flittering around her. That’s when things began getting fun.
But before that, oh damn--the nicknames--my Vacillating Arch Enemy, I guess, he came in. I could sense him behind me, there was a finger…in my ear….half way in there but bam! I grabbed it and pushed it away. I whirled around, gloating that’d I thwarted his wet willy attempt. I am the QUEEN of thwarting the wet willies, and I am also the QUEEN of distributing them. VAE has some sort of ADD and maybe Turrette’s, for fuck’s sakes. He can not stay one place for long. He’s definitely not the type to just sit on the bar stool for hours. He moves around the room, poking this person, chatting with that person, yelling in my face that my haircut fucking sucks because I can’t make it into two ponytails that protrude reservedly from my head like how I wore it in seventh grade. Cheezit, I pleaded, my haircut is cute. I guess, Cheezit replied skeptically, even though he told me earnestly and honestly that it was cute three weeks ago when he also told me to grow some eyebrows. Of course I reminded him of this in my shrieky voice. So then VAE is asking about our internet connection and suggesting strongly that we go download some footage from this Minutemen movie that had shown earlier that evening. I’d forgotten about it and Cheezit had to work. Two seats opened up next to us. Let’s move our chairs! I instructed Cheezit, so that Yells A lot and her friend could sit next to us. I shouted for them to sit, and they did, but then this lanky pale hair dyed black hipster with hat blocked the space for our seats. Then some other hipster fool got in the way. Cheezit easily grows impatient during such situations. We sat. Then hipster two left. Go Jen go! Cheezit prompted. We pulled our stools just two spots down the bar.
The two short skinny gay admirers admired Cheezit while I reported to him my latest boy news and that I’d gone to a counselor. He hoped I hadn’t paid for that shit, because, as he put, if I did I should just be paying him. I really can’t do anything but laugh in those situations. I asked him if he thought I owed him a chicken dinner. Quick, earnest head nod. He wasn’t joking, I could tell, because his eyes were not smirking. A lot of people probably owe you chicken dinners! I asserted. Quick, earnest head nod. Then he’s conversing with someone else and the crinkly eyed gay I didn’t know introduced himself. I remembered him from 1997. He said so, he’s your boyfriend, referring to Cheezit. NO! He’s NO ONE’s boyfriend! I said, the honest truth. Well I saw you holding hands, the gay said. Oh my god! I shouted. You must be projecting your feelings onto me bigtime, he and I would NOT be holding hands. Oh he said. I said you’ll have to fight Peaches Fan for him. Crinkly eyed said I have to fight everyone for him. I have to fight him for him. Hahahahhahahaa! I laughed. I leaned over to gesture to Cheezit, and Crinkly Eyed freaked out. Don’t tell him don’t tell him don’t tell him! Like he can’t sense it, I thought to myself. I won’t! I promised Crinkly Eyed, not even bothering to try to explain how it came to be that I was allowed to sit next to John and babble seductively (haaa!) in his ear.
Of course, the minute Crinkly Eyed went to the bathroom, I turned and reported the conversation to Cheezit, who completely delighted in hearing about it, especially the line about how he’d have to fight himself for himself. Ah, to be so coveted! By so many people he doesn’t have any romantic interest in. That must be a real pain in the ass. (Seriously--it can make you feel awkward. I know this from limited experience.) While all of this was happening, VAE engaged in THREE more attempts at wet willy-ing me and I thwarted them very very well. Once I felt him looming behind me and turned around just in time. I don’t remember the third time anymore, and the last time was when he was on his way out. I just sort of casually glanced over my shoulder, and there he was with his finger in his mouth. I pointed, hahed! I doubt he will try that again. But I wonder what else he will do. He better not talk shit about my hair anymore, though.
Thursday.
Sometimes the Foundation sucks any remaining energy out of me, but sometimes it’s one of the places that makes Milwaukee uniquely Milwaukee. Thursday nights there are good because the Riverwest freaks and regulars are more populous than the UW queer frat-hippie hybrids. DiNo and TC were sitting at the bar when I walked in, which was great. I expected the only person I knew would be Skeletor Madman--have I nicknamed him yet???--and that’s ok sometimes, but approaching 10pm he’d be pretty hammered, most likely, and those types of conversations aren’t exactly relaxing. DiNo was jumping and squealing due to her excitement upon discovering a kickass house for rent in Bayview. That lady certainly can convey excitement/spazz out on a level equal to my own. Sometimes I think she surpasses it!
When they left, Cheezit was done with his shift so he sat down. I try not to talk to him at rapid fire speed for at least a half an hour after he gets done because I understand he needs to chill a bit after serving drinks to both amiable social drinkers and obnoxious alcoholics for several hours. Note that I didn’t say I don’t talk to him at all. I really don’t know who can just be sitting with someone and not say anything for that long, especially me. Man I hate how I feel like I have to throw in these self-deprecating remarks. Anyway. The vodka these days has been not been provoking the high energy buzz it used to, and I was thinking of just jetting, but then Yells A lot arrived, which was really surprising because Thursdays aren’t a night she goes out, generally. Some gay boys were flittering around her. That’s when things began getting fun.
But before that, oh damn--the nicknames--my Vacillating Arch Enemy, I guess, he came in. I could sense him behind me, there was a finger…in my ear….half way in there but bam! I grabbed it and pushed it away. I whirled around, gloating that’d I thwarted his wet willy attempt. I am the QUEEN of thwarting the wet willies, and I am also the QUEEN of distributing them. VAE has some sort of ADD and maybe Turrette’s, for fuck’s sakes. He can not stay one place for long. He’s definitely not the type to just sit on the bar stool for hours. He moves around the room, poking this person, chatting with that person, yelling in my face that my haircut fucking sucks because I can’t make it into two ponytails that protrude reservedly from my head like how I wore it in seventh grade. Cheezit, I pleaded, my haircut is cute. I guess, Cheezit replied skeptically, even though he told me earnestly and honestly that it was cute three weeks ago when he also told me to grow some eyebrows. Of course I reminded him of this in my shrieky voice. So then VAE is asking about our internet connection and suggesting strongly that we go download some footage from this Minutemen movie that had shown earlier that evening. I’d forgotten about it and Cheezit had to work. Two seats opened up next to us. Let’s move our chairs! I instructed Cheezit, so that Yells A lot and her friend could sit next to us. I shouted for them to sit, and they did, but then this lanky pale hair dyed black hipster with hat blocked the space for our seats. Then some other hipster fool got in the way. Cheezit easily grows impatient during such situations. We sat. Then hipster two left. Go Jen go! Cheezit prompted. We pulled our stools just two spots down the bar.
The two short skinny gay admirers admired Cheezit while I reported to him my latest boy news and that I’d gone to a counselor. He hoped I hadn’t paid for that shit, because, as he put, if I did I should just be paying him. I really can’t do anything but laugh in those situations. I asked him if he thought I owed him a chicken dinner. Quick, earnest head nod. He wasn’t joking, I could tell, because his eyes were not smirking. A lot of people probably owe you chicken dinners! I asserted. Quick, earnest head nod. Then he’s conversing with someone else and the crinkly eyed gay I didn’t know introduced himself. I remembered him from 1997. He said so, he’s your boyfriend, referring to Cheezit. NO! He’s NO ONE’s boyfriend! I said, the honest truth. Well I saw you holding hands, the gay said. Oh my god! I shouted. You must be projecting your feelings onto me bigtime, he and I would NOT be holding hands. Oh he said. I said you’ll have to fight Peaches Fan for him. Crinkly eyed said I have to fight everyone for him. I have to fight him for him. Hahahahhahahaa! I laughed. I leaned over to gesture to Cheezit, and Crinkly Eyed freaked out. Don’t tell him don’t tell him don’t tell him! Like he can’t sense it, I thought to myself. I won’t! I promised Crinkly Eyed, not even bothering to try to explain how it came to be that I was allowed to sit next to John and babble seductively (haaa!) in his ear.
Of course, the minute Crinkly Eyed went to the bathroom, I turned and reported the conversation to Cheezit, who completely delighted in hearing about it, especially the line about how he’d have to fight himself for himself. Ah, to be so coveted! By so many people he doesn’t have any romantic interest in. That must be a real pain in the ass. (Seriously--it can make you feel awkward. I know this from limited experience.) While all of this was happening, VAE engaged in THREE more attempts at wet willy-ing me and I thwarted them very very well. Once I felt him looming behind me and turned around just in time. I don’t remember the third time anymore, and the last time was when he was on his way out. I just sort of casually glanced over my shoulder, and there he was with his finger in his mouth. I pointed, hahed! I doubt he will try that again. But I wonder what else he will do. He better not talk shit about my hair anymore, though.
posted by Jen Threat at
6:15 PM
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