Amber's Abode

It's raining men...

Hopefully, there is now a light at the end of the tunnel regarding the money situation.  I convinced the upper level people here that they really need someone to answer the phones for a few hours a day.  The administrator liked the idea, but told me they can't pay me officially.  However, Denise, my favorite nurse who now is the resident care manager for my side of the building, says that I will get paid something, she will whine till she gets her way with the administrator, especially because I only need $20 or $40 a week to be OK.  So we will see. 

And I still want to try selling street roots, a local newspaper which was at first the only source of news by for and about shelterless people in the area.  But it also an income possibility for them and others who need it.  You buy 10 for three dollars, and then sell each copy for one dollar each.  But I've heard that most of the time people give you more and tell you to keep the change.  So I think I will be OK.

Last night, I went dancing with my friend Nick to this place called Cc Slaughters.  It's basically a dance club aimed at gay guys.  But the music was fabulous, as the saying goes.  It was so much fun, even though I'm not a bear and it was bear night.  I was amazed that they have gay porn playing silently on every TV in the building, and bartenders in tights and nothing else.  I kept dancing in front of people so they would block my view of the televisions when I got over saturated.  I think I saw more dicks last night than I have ever seen in my life.  I wasn't really all that impressed.  There's a reason why I identify as queer now.  :-).

One night about a year ago at the place where I usually do karaoke, which is called the Egyptian club, I met this guy called Hot Toddy, (click on his name to go to his blog, it is somewhat informative and wildly entertaining and he even has his own podcast now) who was there with his boyfriend at the time.  I convinced them that they should sing a duet together, and suggested Elton John, so they did a profound version of what came to be called Don't Let Your Son Go down on Me.  We e-mailed back and forth a couple of times after that, but then faded from each other.  Although I still think of him a lot and read his blog often.

*waves to Hot Toddy because I know you'll read this*.

Anyway, the whole point of introducing you to Hot Toddy is that in his blog he regularly mentions trips to Slaughters.  That seems to be his regular spot, like the Egyptian is mine.  So I was really hoping I would run into him yesterday on my first venture to slaughters, but there were so many people there, and I barely remember what he looks like.  I wonder if the bartender at a back bar, the one in tights, is the person he calls the Toddtender.  I'm pretty sure he will let me know.  I want to go back there again next Friday, so maybe I will see him.

I had fun dancing, and I was very welcome on the floor despite my wheelchair.  But I seem to have attracted the only straight guy in the place, or a very inebriated gay one who thought he really needed to be nice to the poor little crippled girl.  He kept coming up to me, grabbing my arms, and forcing me to dance with him. 

But that wasn't all.  He kept shouting song lyrics at me (particularly annoying during the "It's Raining Men" part of the apparently requisite disco set in the middle of the evening; but they played "Dancing Queen" afterwards, so it was okay.  I can't help it.  ABBA rocks) And poking me in the chest for emphasis and performing the kind of gentle hair smoothing one does for people they really love.  And grabbing my controller without permission.  It was really strange.  He didn't even tell me his name, so Nick called him a man of mystery, and thereafter, logically, I named him Austin Powers.  Fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen during the extended mix of "Closer," by Nine Inch Nails.  That would've been really awkward.  :-).

Stay tuned for more of the profound mundane...

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