This blog post was inspired by a story I told tonight.
I've never shared this story with you.
I've never shared this story with anyone. Because it used to be embarrassing. But honey, I'm a blogger. What is embarrassing at this point? Seriously. What's a little humiliation amongst hundreds of strangers?
This happened yars and yars ago, back during my club days. Not the thin and gorgeous club days. The Chub Club days. The days when I squeezed my poundage into bursting at the seams clothing and hoped I could keep it sucked in long enough for the beer buzz to kick in.
My friends and I had gone to a gay bar because we wanted to get hit on by gorgeous men who had no interest in us. I can't explain it any further than that. You either get it, or you don't. And in this case, we didn't, because we didn't want it and neither did they. Sometimes a girl just needs that kind of a night to feel appreciated in this world.
I was leaning oh so fashionably against the bar when a drunk man stumbled onto me and then started apologizing profusely. "Oh sweetie, I'm sooooo soooo sorry! Did I hurt you? Did I knock your drink over? I'll buy you a new one. What are you drinking?" Then he stopped and did a double take. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! You are beautiful. YOU are gorgeous! SO SO gorgeous!!!"
He motioned for his lady friend to come closer. "Come here. Come look at her. Isn't she GORGEOUS?" His lady friend gave a bitchy toss to her skinny little head and shrugged. "I guess."
"NO!" He stomped his foot. Then both feet. "Honey! You are fierce! You. Are. FIERCE!"
Skinny Lady Friend began moving him away. He turned backwards to yell at me as she drug him away, "You stay strong now! You stay beautiful! Always stay beautiful!!!"
I turned proudly to my friends who were also leaning fashionably against the bar next to me and looked terribly amused. "Look!" I said pointing to the duo as they exited. "Did you see that? Did you see him tell me how beautiful I was? He was GUSHING over how beautiful he thought I was!"
My friend looked bored. "Yeah. That's because he thinks you're a drag queen."
"He also said I was- What?"
"Yeah. He thinks you're a man dressed as a woman."
"No. No! No he does not. He knows I'm a woman."
"No. No! No he does not. He thinks you're a man. A drag queen."
And with that, more friends came in to join us and the subject drunkenly changed to boots or purses or drugs or whatever it is 20 something year old straight women talk about in gay bars.
The subject of that drunken gay man thinking I was a drag queen was never brought up again. Until now. ACK! Why am I telling you this story?
Because it's always made me wonder. Did he really think I was a drag queen?
You know what? At least he thought I was a beautiful drag queen!
And that's my some gay drunk guy thought I was a drag queen story.
Top that, Mommy Bloggers!