stuart the fleshy redhead

it's really no surprise that i ended up at the gay bar again last night. at this point i should just know myself well enough to know that if i'm hanging out with my friends at someone's house, drinking beer and watching tv, and get the slightest bit tipsy, that i'm going to end up going to the bar. no matter how much i initially protest, when it comes down to parting ways with my friends and getting in bed or walking with them to the bar--especially when my ex-boyfriend-cum-roommate is going too--i choose the latter. and i totally wasn't dressed for it, in a ratty old t-shirt and flip-flops. kel said that i looked cute. i think he was lying.

it was a very good time, though. the only cloud that descended on the evening came in the form of a fleshy, freckled redhead named stuart. i have never in my life met someone more adept at pissing off such a fantastic number of people so quickly. in three minutes he had made enemies of kel, tom, terry, and me, each for a different reason. it was like watching looney toons's tazmanian devil whirl dustily through our group of friends.

what a strange metaphor. i'll leave it like that.

anyway, this stuart character starts out on the wrong foot, rudely introducing himself to our little group by shoving into the middle of our circle of conversation. kel, wearing beer goggles that were an inch thick (i measured), let him stay because he thought he was "hot." stuart the fleshy redhead proceeded to insult terry for having his collar "popped." i'm sorry, collar-up might be over, but terry pulls it off. he then turns to me and says, "so, you must be the queeny one."

YOU MUST BE THE QUEENY ONE!!!

readers of my blog will know that this gets under my skin. it's ironic that this is how he decided to pick on me, because it's the subject of my column in gay life this week. (shameless plug) "yes. i'm the queeny one," i told him. now fuck off.

thank goodness, he fucked off.