I'm in the Big City for the weekend and won't get any sewing done, BUT we'll get to use the whine/wine bag tonight so I'll be sure to get a picture of Hans and I enjoying ourselves with it.
Let me leave you with this:
I read a story that Angelia's Bald Man (Angelia is the cute, little, belly dancer who by the way makes her own costumes) wrote that reminded me of something that happened to Hans and I. The Bald Man's story was about his experience at a gay bar. Now, he's like my boyfriend; not at all afraid of gay men. I think it takes an intelligent, confident man to have this attitude. Why is it that men are afraid of gays? Because quite frankly, the gay men that I know are well educated, intelligent, all around fun men and wouldn't in the least be interested or attracted to the very men that fear them.
Recently Hans and I attended a function of about 40 people, 99% of whom were gay. Gay men throw the most wonderful parties. The food is plentiful as well as fantastic, the music is great, and the company is stimulating. I always look forward to these events with giddy anticipation.
Attending this event was one other straight couple, and a hand-full of women, and judging from their attire, I thought they might be lesbians. Which seemed to me to be strange. It's been my experience that lesbians and gay men don't generally socialize. The lesbians that I know hate all men, gay or otherwise.
One of the lesbians, upon hearing that Hans had lived in Florida for awhile, pointed at me and said "You are soooo Miami." in a very waspish way. I immediately replied, "I am not!" (I grew up in a little swamp town in the North). "Oh yes you are." She said and floated away.
Instead of a sit down function, this was an appetizer event, which as a former banquet manager (now lowly waitress) to me is the most brilliant idea in the world. The food was delivered in well timed increments all night long. First the soup, in adorable little cups, that was to be sipped and not spooned. Each appetizer was awaited with eager anticipation as we all drank wine, or champagne, or mineral water, and mingled. There is no sitting around at these parties.
Eventually Hans drifted away (I'm putting him on a shorter leash next time) and I talked with the only other straight couple. When Hans came back to me, on my little bar stool, about a half hour later I was ready for him.
"So tell me," I said. "What did old 'you're so miami' have to say? I saw her back you up against the bar and plaster herself all over you like a cheap, coat of paint. She's obviously no lesbian!" Hans sputtered and said he hadn't noticed that she'd done anything like that, and any way she was higher than a kite.
"So then how about Janey?" (Janey and Hans had grown up together as neighbors, a million years ago in another country, she happened to be at this party, and I know she's not a lesbian). "I saw you lay about ten kisses on her! And I mean on her mouth!"
"Now I can't help that." He defended himself. "She was getting ready to leave and she said we're just like family, and everytime I went to kiss her cheek she kept turning her mouth at me at the last minute! And it was only like four times!" All of this was said in a rush.
"Well then what about that thing over there". I pointed to a woman across the room. "What thing?" Hans wanted to know, and by now he was starting to sound desperate.
That thing over there wearing the awful 'reject from a thrift shop' outfit, that's who!"
"Your dress came from a thrift shop." Hans observed.
He may have been right but that was the wrong answer.
'Never you mind that!" I smacked him. "I watched her run her fingers all up and down you like you were a harp and she was a.... a... harpy!" (What the hell is the name of someone who plays the harp?).
"She was just telling me, and demonstrating how when she was little, she and her brother used to fight."
"How incestuous!" I said with horror. " My sister and I fought all the time and we didn't do stuff like that, now you behave yourself."
Apparently my warning went in one ear and out the other, because shortly thereafter Hans came rushing back to me, this time with a gay man in tow.
"This is Ken!" Hans said with glee. "And guess what? He thinks the Skipper is hot."
"The Skipper. You know, from Gilligan's Island."
I looked at Ken who smiled happily.
"The Skipper?" I asked, and again Ken nodded happily.
This surprised me a bit as most gay men are very lean and fit and attracted to the same.
"I would think you'd find the Professor hot." I remarked. "He's good looking plus intelligent."
"Well, I like the Skipper." He said, and wagging his finger in my face said, "You are soooo Ginger."
"I am not!" I said. "I'm Mary Ann."
"Noooo." Finger still wagging. "You're Ginger." And with that, he was gone.
"That was so funny," remarked Hans.
"What?" I asked.
"Well, Ken came up to me and said, " 'You remind me of the Skipper from Gilligan's Island, and I think the Skipper is so HOT.' "
"Hans!" I exclaimed.
"What?" He asked innocently.
"That guy was hitting on you!"
Hans looked mortified. "He was not!"
"Yes he was! My God, first those women and then that gay guy, what am I going to do with you?"
Hans gazed off into the distance with a little frown of concentration on his face.
Then, smiling, he drew himself up proudly and stated, "You just can't take me anywhere."
Not without a choke chain.