Beyond Queer

"Faggots, faggots everywhere and not a drop to drink."

- Emmett (QAF)

A lot has happened the past few days. Or as I call Wednesday and Thursday: my weekend.

Let's see... (1) Billie's birthday party! and (2) Milwaukee's Brokeback Mountain premier

Maybe there really is a "gay lifestyle."

(1)
I was all in a tither about Billie's party. Seriously, a tither. While trying to find someone at work to be my "guest," so I'd be assured of having someone to talk to, I repeated the line over and over.

"But, it's invitation only. Strict invitation only. That's gotta be a reason to go: others can't."

Am I the only person who thinks this is just a grand ole reason to go to a party? Plus, it's Milwaukee. Nothing's exclusive in Milwaukee. Nothing. At all.

Alas, no luck at work. You'd think the fag hags, at least, would get it.

Besides the whole "exclusive party" thing, I was all about celebrating. When I moved to Milwaukee there were people here and there who befriended me and introduced me to their friends and so on.

I really took a leap of faith when I moved from Chicago to it's far northern suburb in Wisconsin. I knew a total of two people in the entire southeast Wisconsin area; both were actually mere acquaintances that were friends of friends of friends that I didn't have too much in common with. I started to go out to the bars as often as i could, pretty much alone, to meet people. It wasn't a sad thing at all because I was all about having fun. It's not like I was a hermit or a recluse. I had school and work and volleyball teams. But still...

Enter Billie one summer. To be honest, I don't remember too much about when or how we met, but that's a good thing. He just kind of befriended me and treated me like we had known each other for a long time. Anyone who can skip the whole awkward "getting to know you" stage straight to "bitch, where u been?" is my absolute favorite kind of friend.

Back to Billie's party. Of course we were packed at work and, of course, I got stuck in a crappy section AND STILL sat with a late party that refused to leave an hour and a half after our closing time. I ended up walking into La Cage, invitation in hand, around 12:30.

A few things struck me: (a) the "invitation only" sign was hand written, off centered, in sharpie, (b) it seemed I was one of the few who didn't think that just showing up was present enough and (c) I knew a total of 6 people...in the entire place...including the bartenders.

Now, the sign really wasn't a big deal. I wasn't exactly expecting a red carpet and I was a little late for that anyway. I was still hoping though...just a little. Walked in, looking for the big bouncers with sun glasses and ear pieces demanding my invitation. Nope. I ended up looking like a big dork who thought "exclusive" was a big deal. Who thinks that?

I found Billie to give him a little ole gift certificate from the gay bookstore. I wanted to assure him that if he wanted to buy porn, it was a-okay with me.

Billie was so happy he just licked me.

On the eye.

I still want my contact back. It's expensive. I have a stigmatism. And, it's half of a pair.

I considered leaving.

Four Corona's later and I was all about hanging out and having a good time.

Plus, there's this really cute guy who seems really cool. Only, he looks a lot like this other really cute guy who doesn't. Four Corona's in about 45 minutes makes things even more difficult.

The only way I can tell them apart is when they speak. Or sign. Sign language? Cool guy. Speaks? Wrong one.

I SWEAR, that's not the only reason I'm taking ASL classes starting in January. It just helps.

Overall, it was a good time because Billie was just having the grandest ole time in the world sans any of the drama (which--believe--was never more than a whisper away). Maybe everybody was being so damn cordial out of respect or maybe they didn't bring a present and figured not-causing-drama was a damn good gift. I can't really argue too much about that. And, in Milwaukee, that's one helluva gift.

More on Brokeback later.