If I learned one thing this past Sunday it's to never leave home without my camera. Especially when I've been invited to attend a brunch with a bunch of drag queens, strippers, and the drag queen equivalent to groupies. If I had to sum up this experience in one word it would have to be WhatTheFuck!!!
First off, let me premise this explanation by stating that the dude that invited me was very sweet to do so, considering my newness to the gay scene here in Atlanta, but also given my alleged low status in the gay scene. Until Sunday, I wasn't quite aware that I even had a status in the gay scene! Those who know me well know that I pretty much hate the gay scene. I've even blogged about it a few times. Well let me rephrase that, I really don't like to be immersed in it. Sure those boys know how to have a good time, but that's just about it.
So Sunday morning, I find the restaurant, park the car, and walk into the lion's den! Within the first five seconds of approaching the very long table made up of smaller tables that were just pushed together, I am met with about twenty-five matte finished faces all asking the same questions to themselves: who the fuck is that? I approach my inviter who was the head of this super-gay social hour. He introduced to me to everyone around me, and that was pretty much the extent of the conversation that I had with everyone!
Something happens to me when I'm around people like that. I climb back into myself and don't say a word unless there is actually something to say. I'm usually pretty good with the small talk and shmoozing, but such was not the case on Sunday morning. It's fair to say that those at the table with me were probably just responding to my standoffish behavior. It's just that I wasn't able to contribute even small talk to the conversations going on around me, which consisted of hilarious recounts of the night before, gossip on "some tragic queen", or splenda-sweetend comments about someone’s D&G sunglasses. I didn't know any of the clubs they were talking about because I don't really go out that much, I didn't know any of the people they were talking about because they didn't attend Portfolio Center! and I think it's ridiculous to spend $500.00 on sunglasses--or any article of clothing for that matter! Of course I couldn't interject these comments into their conversation, because that would've further alienated myself from the group.
So about a good twenty minutes of eaves dropping on conversations, the six people sitting around me have now moved away from me, breaking off into their own little group, leaving me sitting alone at an empty table. I was panic struck, and refused to move. Probably a mild to moderate case of social anxiety has now set in, and I want to walk out and forget that I even attempted to socialize with the gays! Suddenly, I hear one guy utter "Oh yeah, I'm writing a book on...." excited by the idea of someone working on something involving their mind and not their dick, my eyes shoot over to him as I leaned in to ask "what are you writing a book on!!!?" Only to be met with a dead-pan stare as he informed me that he was being sarcastic--this from that guy that had just spilled his ice water down the right side of my leg ten minutes prior--NICE!
It's clearly not going well when my inviter approaches me and states the obvious "my goodness Kevin, you're quite! You're making me nervous being all quiet. Hey so-and-so, isn't Kevin making you nervous being all quiet over here!!!" It took the force of God's hand covering my mouth to prevent me from letting him know exactly what I was thinking, though my facial expression and body language said it all. It was at this point that one of the guys to my left started mouthing something to me as he smiled. It was hard to make out what he was saying, as he was wearing helmet-like sunglasses that covered 96% of his entire face--yeah it was weird. So I ask him "what!!?--and smile." He then let me know pretty quickly, that he was talking to the person behind me! GREAT!
So now I'm sitting there, feeling pretty humiliated, and I decide that I should just be myself and say fuck it. So I did. And this is what happened. I turn to my inviter and, in jest, ask him "did I see you with a doo rag on the other day?" My accusation was sarcastic yet playful. His faced dropped and eyes pierced mine as he told me "it was stocking cap--not a doo-rag!" "Is there a difference?" I asked. "YES!" A doo-rag is something you tie around your head, a stocking cap just slips over it" he informed me. WELL SHIT. FUCK. WELL ALRIGHT!!
At this point I had nothing to loose so I ordered a very STRONG mimosa and started to drink my way into their club. I suppose the alcohol loosened me up a bit, because before the brunch was over, I was chatting with one of the guys about his $12.00 hat from Target and puffing on a cigarette. I had given in. I assumed the role that I hate to be, which is caddy, chatty, gay. My conversations started by asking "OMG, where did you get those shoes, they're fucking great!" Bla Bla Bla! I guess is some social situations we always have to alter ourselves just to "make it through the hour" but man I really fucking hate that shit.
I don't think I'll be asked back to Sunday brunch!
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5 comments:
that sounds like a complete nightmare.
Hey Man, sounds like you need to stop trying to fit in somplace that you don't quite belong. You sound more mature with better things to do with your time.
i give you an E for Effort. You were at least open to trying new things and you got a blog post out of it...welcome back!
Minus--a nightmare indeed. One which I still haven't quite woken up from
Anonymous--thanks for positive feedback; who are you?
5--the drag brunch has certainly inspired a blog post and poem for T's class! Perhaps I should do more things outside of my norm!!
I hate the "gay scene"....like most "scenes" it is just this contrived collection of superficial people trying to impress each other. (yawn). It's hard, though, when you are new to a city and are trying to meet people...because these folks are the most readily accessible...The Atlanta gay male scene is especially "cut throat"...it is just one big competition of who makes more money, who has the nicest car, who wears the most expensive clothes, who has the best body...you really have to "dig deeper" and get past that layer of idiots to find people that are of substance. You can hang out with me and my girlfriend anytime and we can drink mimosas and talk about things-not-botox-related. Sorry you had such shitty time.
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