A Queens' Queen - Stranded in the Forest...: beer with a queer

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Living in NYC....

We often feel like keying peoples' shit, but we don't. If you live in the city, parking is often more important than driving...

We did, however, tear down some caution tape today that blocked our way to the bodega to buy beer...

We are quite proud of ourselves.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

We Have to Share This & Then We'll Do a Richard Post....

In the First Person...

Really,
Honestly, one of the kindest things happened to me today...

I went on that interview with that gentleman, and as I have said, he gave positive feedback and did imply that he would indeed call my references and speak to the owner about me.

Savvy as I am, I immediately phoned my people to give them the heads up.
One of my friends (and references), that I have been dismissive of as of late, not for any nefarious reasons, but because, the two of us together is tantamount to "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf"...

You do understand....

Anyway, the conversation is always one of love, which can be very hard for a man from his part of the world (Gotta love New York). Amongst other things we spoke of, I mentioned, in my demure, southern way that I don't have money for the rent (I was and am never one to drag my friends into my miasma, however, a subtle intonation to the truth is, after all, just honesty amongst loved ones)....

Lemonade???

So, then I made the joke that if I get the job, well then, I would be able to take him out for a drink, ha ha; ha ha. Then we left it there, with him not doing anything but telling the truth about my talents and abilities... And we will get together real soon.... (he is straight, I'm writing about Love, not sex).

Now all is well and good, references notified....

Two Hours later:

The Phone Rings....

He commences to explain to me how slow he is on the uptake. Then, he asks me if I need money to pay the rent, and asks me if I need money...

What is left of my heart, puddles...

He went on to explain that "hard times" was common conversation, worthy of disregard.
People with family and houses, complaining about how their lives are going to shit. No recourse, they say.
Meanwhile, my friend and I know all the good outdoor enclaves in Queens (lots o' bridges here), my momma didn't raise no stupid...
Some might think it a joke; as they are, and perhaps always will be.
I don't judge.

SO...
As the story goes...
My first friend in NYC found that, in my understatement, he heard the truth, and then proceeded to tell me what a dim-wit he was....

He is the sharpest man that I think that I know, right now.
He said that he could pay one or two months rent for me...

I said no.

And did explain that this was the kindest thing that I have heard from anyone that I have known in many years.

Wally wept.

He has actually walked a mile in my shoes....

I'm not surprised as we are both stags; he a fag-stag and me a stag-fag.

Which Begs the Question:
Who is Afraid of Virginia Woolf???