A birthday alone

Time again for yet another irrelevant take on the world's most worthless issues....they say only a fool's here to stay....well hey fool, here's your deception :)

My voice is trapped in yearning for that ever so perfect companion to my brain...searching for that something that can give life and credence to the truth enslaved...and all I can come up with is a craptacular diatribe on one of the seediest places in all the universe. I'll spare the guilty parties of implication =P

Knowing that I'm JustAFag, I would wind up at a gay bar....knowing that I was out alone by myself with nobody going solo incognito, I would wind up checking out the scenery, and the SCENERY, only I had no idea that a pre-op drag queen butchering "What's Love Got To Do With It" would be the illustrious backdrop. I was most certainly suffering from bleeding earlobes and burning retinas.

When all we wanted was the dream....to have and to hold that precious little thing.....

Knowing that I am young and beautiful [yes, THIS is the part where you laugh uncontrollably], I am going to have undesirable elements kick it to me all hit em up style and shit. One such conversation went as follows:

Old stranger: "Wow you're cute, how old are you?"

Fag: "I just turned 19 on Thursday" {Insert laugh track here as well}

OS: "Really? I wouldn't think you're even old enough to get in here"

Fag: "Thanks, but of course I'm nowhere near 19. My baby sister is 21 for chrissakes. I'm really 25."

OS: "Damn you look good. You don't know how BAD I want young ass."

Fag: "About as bad as I DON'T want old wrinkly skank To'up ass?" {Walking away very quickly}

To be consumed again....oh I know...would be...the death of me....

So what else to do but to attempt getting some dance on....there is freedom in stillness....and in asserting all thatedness....

Song after song comes on and all I'm thinking is, "It's a helluva long way home." People give nasty looks to those who look happy and unjaded by their years...the recipient of those nasty looks continue to rock on because they refuse to be pressed up against the glass of bitterness...and still those precious few find me inviting. Another stultifying testimonial:

BitterQueen: "What is someone like you doing in a place like this?"

Fag: "Was in town alone tonite, thought I'd check out the scene."

BQ: "You're too happy for this place. You'll never find anyone here."

Fag: "I'm not necessarily looking. You seem very unfortunate."

BQ: "How do you figure?"

Fag: "You can't be older than 21, and your basing your self worth on finding people." {Incidentally I had him nailed because I know that type so well. I continue to dance whilst he realizes that I wanted nothing further to do with him.}

And I'll defend as long as...I can be...left here to linger here in silence...if I...choose to...would you...try to understand?

All around a stranger's flesh is being offered...hoping against hope that the stranger won't take too much...or sacrifice too many beauty secrets....oh wait a minute, and believe this, no one seemed to have the time to participate in any exfoliation, or even have a decency of doing a facelift.

Anyone have a recipe for turning disillusioned, life weary hags into something that vaguely resembles human? I'll even take toast crumbs at this point....

So the tour of the 99 cent bargain basement gay trashland continues....

I'm drunk in my desire....

The final segment allows the bitterness to seep into my own veins, as I am just sick of looking beautiful for no good reason [Stage Direction: HOLLER IN LAFFTER]. I vowed to tell off anything in my sight - and I did exactly that....

Pair of Idiots: "Hey, which one of us do you think is younger?"

Fag: "Believe this, I definitely am."

POI: "Well aren't you a sassy thang?" [Sidebar, what the fuck is a sassy thang? Isn't that an ingredient in Jambalaya?]

Fag: "Yes" [eyes wandering, not even feigning interest]

POI: "I can tell you have no taste in men if you're not talking to us."
Fag: "I've been insulted by better people. I bet I have better taste in pubic hair removal methodology though."
POI: "Man that's GROSS"

Fag: "You want GROSS? LOOK IN THE FUCKING MIRROR!!!!!!!!"

And at that I left the life I wished to flee too many hours before...and for that brief moment I lost my identity, and I was really pissed that my hair did not hold up. Angels speak with jilted tongues and tie themselves to beds of shame whilst hoping that their Pearl Cream is doing something for their pasty dead looks. Bitter 19 year-old queens prance around even worse than cats on crack, weighing their contrived confidence against their apparent heinosity, fooling nobody but themselves.

Lessons to be learned from this? #1 - ANYTIME you go out, do yourself a favor and have some good hair fixings. #2 - No matter how bad off you think you are, there's invariably fun to be had at someone else's expense whether it be to their face or from afar [and NO you're NOT supposed to feel bad for it]. #3 - Toast crumbs have higher IQ and nutritional value than a 50 year old ass-seeker. And #4, last and most certainly least, Lara Croft was a KICKASS movie =)

Final sidebar: I do not fit into the typical picture of the bitter, hopeless, jaded fag. The views expressed are not necessarily the opinion of JustAFag, just those little ants crawling between my ears who know what's best for me. I don't think they're gay though....

*Special thanks to Sarah Mclachlans’ Fumbling Toward Ecstasy, which provided much inspiration to this week’s column…I’d bother with “proper” citation, but…since when am I ever proper?