queer

If you were gay!

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

June is Pride Month.  

A whole month dedicated to the celebration of all things LGBTQ+.  

So by default, a month to celebrate me.  

For you innocent bystanders it’s in June because of the infamous Stonewall Riots, that took place on the last weekend in June, in 1969.  It was a few days after the death of Judy Garland, and a large number of queer folks had gathered at The Stonewall Inn to mourn.  In the early morning hours, the police raided the bar, because two men dancing was illegal, and men dressed as women, was even more illegal.  

What resulted was a pushback from the LGBTQ community.  Bricks were thrown.  Police cars overturned.  The riots went on for several days, escalating again each night.  

This is often considered the beginning of the gay right’s movement.  Which is a OVER simplification as both men and women had been pushing for the overturn of anti-gay laws.  

However, this was a big turning point, resulting in public marches and men and women openly fighting back.   This is why June is Pride Month.  

Not every city holds their pride march in June.  They are spread throughout the year, so that people from all over can attend.  NYC’s pride march is always the last Sunday in June.  Maine’s celebration is the weekend prior.  

This Saturday Portland held it’s annual Pride Parade.  The weather was beautiful.  For the first time in 17 weeks, it didn’t rain on Saturday.  I always say it’s because God likes the Gays.  The turn out was insane, the parade was a lot of fun, and I got to hang out with my friend all afternoon.   

On Sunday, Adam and I went to the Peak’s Island Tea Dance.  It’s the first time I’ve even gone, but it will not be my last.  It’s a great opportunity to hang out with all the gays in southern Maine, day drink and see amazing entertainment by the drag community. 

This year’s headliner was Detox, from Rupaul’s Drag Race, who really was not more stellar than our local queens.  

Long story short, it was fucking fun weekend, and it was fun to spend it with my people, watching great live entertainment, and celebrate while we can the fact that we are free to live our lives out of the closet, openly.  

I hope all of you have celebrated Pride Month this June in your own way.  And remember, things are fucked up right now, so it’s important to make a lot of noise.  Demand to be seen.  And remember, if you are not part of the LGBTQ community, your kids are watching.  They are deciding if it’s safe to share with you their own story.  If they tell someone before you, you now know why.  

Look over there. Look over there. Somebody cares that much.

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i’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Picture this!

Perhaps it’s time to rename my blog since I very rarely talk to the manager anymore.

Anyway!

Picture this!

Lexington, Kentucky. 1994.

I’m working at an Italian restaurant called The Italian Oven.

It’s a fun concept, in a strip mall off Richmond Road.

It features a wood fired oven, used to make pizzas, calzones and pastas.

I would often get the pasta carbonara until I discovered it was the dish with the most calories on the menu.

The owner’s name was Wayne. He was a bit crazy as all restaurant owners are.

He had an assistant, who’s named Nina, who was a host, then became assistant manager. She scared everyone but me.

For some reason she liked me, which I appreciated.

Turns out the concept, a franchise operation has gone kind of bust except for one location in Georgia.

Home

Same idea, except we only served beer and wine.

My ex-boyfriend Jim got me the job there, after I walked out of O’Charley’s when my manager was on maternity leave, and the replacement manager was a dick.

The concept included, black and white checked table cloths, with white craft paper on top. When you approached the table, you introduced yourself and wrote you name upside down in crayon. There was a small glass with crayons on the table for people to draw while they waited.

Fun fact, when someone who was artistically inclined we kept the drawings in the back on the walk-in.

We also were way ahead of our time, as we used pasta as straws, long before cities were banning plastic.

I worked there for two years, until I moved to Cincinnati to teach at the School for Creative and Performing Arts.

That was a long introduction to the meat of the story.

On a summer day, in 1994, I was at the restaurant for lunch.

Lunches were busy. Business was starting to wind down, when a table of four was seated in the back of the restaurant.

The server approached the table, we’ll call him Scott.

It’s funny. I can see his face, but for the life of me I can’t remember his name. He was an older gay man who didn’t even try to hide his gayness.

He walked up to the table, wrote his name upside down on the table, and before he could say more, a man at the table stopped him and asked for another server.

He responded, “Did I do something wrong?”

The man responded, “You are gay. We don’t want no gay server waiting on us.”

Scott said, “Of course, I’ll be right back.”

We were all hanging around in the front when Scott approached us, and told the three or four servers as well as Jay the manager what was said.

Jay said, “I’ve got this.”

He walked through the dining room and approached the table and said, “I’m sorry, is there a problem?”

The man at the table spoke up and said, “We don’t want no gay waiter. Give us somebody who ain’t gay.”

“Well sir, that’s going to be a problem. See that woman over there. She’s gay. See that man standing beside her, pointing at me, he’s gay too. See the guy with the beard making pizzas in the kitchen, he’s gay. In fact, I’m the manager, and I’d offer to wait on you, but I’m gay too. So if you don’t want no gay person waiting on you, then I guess you’ll have to just eat some place else.”

With that he walked away.

To be honest, I think they stayed, but I don’t remember.

The thing about Jay was, that if you’d asked me when I started, fuck if you’d asked me 24 hours earlier, I’d have sworn he was a little homophobic. But that day, he did the right thing. I’d never loved a manager more.

This was 1994, conservative, Lexington, KY.

The times they were a changin’.

So when my spirit starts to sag, I hustle out my highest drag, and put a little more mascara on

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

The summer of 1984, I worked at Wendy’s in North Park.  It was an awesome job, making $3.35 an hour, that I saved,to pay for college each semester.  Yes, it paid for college, with the bare minimum of loans.  

We were open late, and often got a crazy late crowd.    

One night a car drives thru, I’m working the drive thru.  It pulls up to the window, and I tell them the charge will be 9.76.  The driver pays me cash, and we chat while he waits for his order to be ready.  

The chatting becomes flirting, and then he forwardly asks me what time I’ll be off work.  I tell him around 1:00.  He says, he’ll come back then.    

And he did.  

And we dated for about 6 minutes.  Yes, minutes.

And I use the term dating loosely.  

I would drive to Lexington to meet him at closing time at the Video Village that he worked at on New Circle Road.  Fun fact, turns out my friend Todd Lacy, also worked at that store, with this guy.  I found this out about 8 years later.  

I also saw him long enough for me to meet his drag queen roommate, who was very funny, very gregarious, and very sweet.  I’m pretty sure she was the first drag queen I ever met.  

After about 6 minutes, he told me that he didn’t think it would work out.

I was very hurt.  For about 3 days.  

Then I moved on with my summer. 

Fast forward to the fall of 1984.  

I pledge a fraternity at my very conservative, liberal arts college.  

And why did I pledge a fraternity.

Because living in the dorms, meant always watching your back to see if someone saw you drinking.  Or someone saw you out late.  Or someone saw you doing anything that the Bible deemed sinful.    

I pledged the Phi Kappa Tau fraternity.  

And thus started the pledges life.  

Just before Christmas break, the windows of the house were covered with newspaper.  We brought ou mattresses from our dorms.  

And hell week started.  

What happens in hell week is super top secret, so if I told you, I’d have to kill you.  

One thing we did, was have a scavenger hunt.  Get a menu from here.  Get a ticket stub from there.  

Get the autograph of a bartender at Johnny Rockets, the gay bar in Lexington.  

Fun fact, the big gay bar in Lexington has been in this location for decades.  Its right next door to the police station.  And the city has tried for years to buy the building, but the owner has never budged.  

So there we were, driving all over Lexington collecting our souvenirs.  

And it’s time to go into the bar.  

I volunteered along with one of my pledge brothers, but I don’t remember who.  

We walk in, and approach the bar.  

I go up to the bar and wait for the bartender.

I look to my left and I see my friend’s drag queen roommate.  

She smiles.

I smile, while saying a prayer that she doesn’t acknowledge knowing me.  

She’s not dumb, and plays a long.  She says something sassy, and winks at me.  

We get our autograph and go on with our evening.  

I was very grateful that she did not out me.  

It was my first time in a gay bar.  

But certainly not my last. 

The sex is in the heel, even if you break it. The sex is in the hell, honey you can’t fake it.

/ fightmasterwrites / 1 Comment

The sex is in the heel even if you break it
The sex is in the heel, honey you can’t fake it

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Edition!

I spent 1987 and 1988 waiting tables at Bennigan’s.  It was located at The Lenox Mall, in Atlanta, back when the mall was only one floor, and Rich’s and Macy’s were the anchor stores.  Banana Republic still focused on cargo shorts.  Abercrombie and Fitch had not started selling sex yet.  Structure was a favorite store of mine.  

I’ve written about my time there, and how it was the beginning of my coming out.  

Everyone I worked with knew I was gay.  

And as with every restaurant, the cast of characters was ever changing.

The beginning of my first summer there, a very cute, very masculine young man was hired.  He was a very straight, very sheltered, straight fraternity guy.  (This becomes important later).  

He starts work, and I trained him one of his shifts.  Believe it or not, I was a trainer, in every restaurant I ever worked for.  I always loved it, because I felt like I was a great server, and could share my talent with others.  

I train him, and he becomes a real server. 

As he gets to know me, and the rest of the staff, he can’t believe all the gay people.

And he can’t believe that I’m gay, as I don’t look gay.  I’m assuming he meant that I didn’t walk the runway in front of the bar as Jason did.  And I didn’t wear makeup like Kelly did.  And I didn’t gesture with a limp wrist like Billy did.  

I however, did not hide it.  I sang showtunes in the kitchen.  I learned to be caddy along with the best of them.  And if you took a second look, the façade always gave way to the truth.  

Imagine my surprise, when one Saturday night, I’m waiting tables, and this young man comes in for dinner, with three of his fraternity brothers.  And ask to sit in my section.  

I wait on them, have fun teasing and joking around with them.  They pay the bill, tip me well and are on their way.  

A couple of days later, I work with this guy and he tells me why he wanted to sit in my section.  

He wanted his friends to meet a real life out of the closet gay guy, who didn’t look gay.  To him I was a novelty.  He’d never met someone who looked and acted straight who was gay.  

I took the comments with a grain of salt, understanding what he was trying to say.

However, I did say to him.

Greg, how many men are in your fraternity?  

He replied, 70.

I said, well think about this.  It is estimated that 10% of the population is gay.  So that means that 7 of your fraternity brothers are gay.  And I can assure you, it’s not the ones you think.  And I can assure you that a couple of them act straighter than me.   Think of that tonight as you are showering before bed.  

And I turned on my heels, and sashayed away, walking the runway in front of the bar.