In just one Saturday night out on The Hill (aka Capitol Hill aka gay neighborhood quickly becoming the home of gentrified cheaply made mixed-used overpriced apartment buildings...I digress), I experienced quite the hilarious array of Seattle characters. Some I love dearly...others just made me SMDH and LOL. Here's a recap:
Text my favorite Mexi-Arizonan transplant bar hopping buddy, Jose. Arrange a meet-up in 25 minutes. Hop in shower, throw on clothes, walk 8 blocks, hugz, order cocktail, small talk, catch up on life, ogle at the handsome blokes posing in the bar, laugh, and....scene.
Get a text from friend Michael (my gospel singing diva, yet trapped in a tall handsome white dudes body) who's up stairs having his own party. Jose & I walk upstairs to join, to be met with Michael's usual hilarious banter... he calls me Harriet Tubman, I allow it because he's... well... Michael. He also makes fun of my well fitted v-neck shirt that apparently was purchased at Baby Gap. The laughs and jokes continue.
The bartender upstairs is none other than my stocky dark chocolate com-padre name Tru. He works hard for the money by day in health care and by night, he keeps the drinks and the laughs flowing in the bar. Tru refers to me as Uncle Ben... and I allow it, because...well... he's Tru (and he would snap me like a twig if I ever complained about it).
All is well with friends I know and love and then this...
Enters.... handsome preppy dressed guy who clearly projecting the "uptight look" to fit in with his str8 bros flanked on his left and right. Debate ensues with Jose and I "straight or gay?" My vote: gay. The only way to know... I walk over to say hi and clarify the orientation (I was right) and bid a compliment for being handsomely dressed. He's new in town, dental student and clearly wants to keep a low profile with his "bros". So, he quickly retreats to (likely) a lower key not-so gay bar on the hill. #goodluckgurl
Run into a guy who, despite having close mutual friends, gives me the stink eye whenever I say hello. I finally get fed up with the unwarranted cold shoulder routine and gently confront him to see if I actually did something to justify the stink eye. He swears I've done nothing and apologies for the stinky looks.... only to find me on facebook the next morning and apologies because apparently I "hit on him" the first couple times we met, and he apparently doesn't know how to handle those types of situations when the feelings aren't mutual. #blesshisheart #gurlBYE
Dark bearded very masculine stalky-construction worker type guy in a bar walks by. I stop him and compliment the handsomely groomed beard. He says thanks. I say you're likely str8. He confirms he has a girlfriend...but adds that he's not THAT str8 and invites me to dance. I obliged. All goes well until he proceeds to turn around and "put it on me" in manner of which I can not handle... seriously, bucky the bronco. Afraid I'll get bucked off the not-as-str8-as he-says bronco, I excuse myself to the restroom and forget to return. #toomuchbuckinthebronco #cantbelieveididthefadeaway
The night ends with more and more laughs with friends, and Jose and I make our way home to our quiet side of the hood. Goodnight Caphill. See you next time.
