Homoward Bound

Customer: “Is this a gay bar?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Oh.”

[He glances about at all the gay surrounding him.]

Customer: “Where are the straight bars?”

Me: “… Everywhere else?”

As soon as he walked out, I remembered that there are a lot of bars up and down Washington Avenue, so I ran after him and yelled, “WASHINGTON,” but I don’t think he heard me, which probably worked out for the best. Considering the powers of deduction he exhibited, he wouldn’t have known whether I meant the street, the state, or the city, so God only knows where he would’ve ended up.

I do hope he finds a nice straight bar, though. Even if dollars to donuts says he wanders into a Mexican restaurant and starts ordering Chinese food.

I do NOT live for the applause, Ms. Germanotta. Not any longer.

Customer: “Having fun yet?”

Me: “I am. It’s been a good night.”

Customer: “Yeah, I’ve been out there entertaining the crowd, but now it’s time for the long walk home.”

Me: “Well, you have a great evening.”

Customer: “I only live three blocks away.”

Me: “Oh, okay, cool. A short walk, then.”

Customer: “You know, with your hands being the size they are, you could probably get both of them in me and clap.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “And again, I’m only three blocks away. If that’s your thing.”

Me: “It’s… really not.”

Customer: “Oh.”

[awkward slience]

Customer: “It was the clapping comment, huh?”

Me: “Yeah. It was.”

Customer: “Understandable. Understandable.”

But hey, at least he’s open to constructive criticism. As opposed to just being… y’know… open.

I’m going to think about anything else now.