Bobby, Kile, Kevin and I trekked out of "The Valley" into Philadelphia for the night. We all needed a night away from the same old places and the same old faces. (You can only sit on the same face so many times before it's considered "used furniture." Just kidding... Well kind of.) It was Bobby's and Kile's idea for the road trip and Bobby was named the Designated Driver or at least to remain the least drunkest. Which can be a feat for Bobby Bunny. When he is nervous (which is usually all the time when we go out. He calms down after we're there for bit.) he devours a drink much the same as Kevin would a cock. And as we all know Bobby's poison of choice is a margarita. So how many margaritas equals a non nervous Bobby? Around 3.
Our car ride down (Philadelphia is about an hour away) consisted of the usual catching up. You know gossip and trash talk about other people. We are gay, it's what we do. I sat in the back with Kile as he snacked on Swedish Fish and drank soda. Kile is actually diabetic and wears one of those Insulin Pumps that is attached to him with a tiny tube. You can barely see it and if you didn't know what it was you'd think it was a phone or something. He popped the Swedish Fish in his mouth and called them his "uppers" because well technically they are. His poor sugar levels! We reminisced about the times (yes more than once) Kevin accidentally pulled out Kile's Insulin tube. Kevin's response, “It gets in the way! Whoospie!” When I'm on my death bed and hooked up to machines Kevin isn't allowed in the room with me alone because he'll be like “What's this do?” and push random buttons!
We arrived in the city around 8:30 (which is sooo early for us) and I immediately texted Knockers to tell him we were going to Woody's first. He texted me back saying he was in south Philly and would be there soon. In Knock terminology "soon" means in a couple hours. I am still shocked as to how good Woody's looks from the remodel. It looks like a totally different bar. The downstairs has that sports bar relaxed vibe. If you just happened to glance you wouldn't know it was a gay bar. Well until you noticed the skin tight muscle-t wearing bartenders and saw the medley of big girl diva music videos (I was waiting for "These videos are brought to you by KFC and Popeye's Chicken") playing on all the TV's expect two where they had *gasp* some kind of sport playing! After we were settled in. (All had drinks) I texted George to let him know where we were.
As we waited for George and Knockers, we all downed another drink. We kept telling Bobby to slow down a bit. When Bobby gets drunk he starts to get louder. I get touchy feely especially if it's someone I like. Kevin gets slutty, mouth open and tongue out. Kile had disappeared outside to smoke (he is the only one in the group that does) and was gone for awhile. Kevin said, “Jeez, did Kile fall asleep outside?” I looked at him and said, “No he is probably seizuring on the ground. If he isn't back in five minutes we should check.” We both laughed and continued to sip on our drinks. I know we are horrible and going to hell for sure, but even Kile thought it was funny when he returned.
The Social Experiment
Bobby had an idea for a little experiment to try while we were in the city.
•Tally all the messages up at the end of the night to see who had the most.
•Read them later on to see how ridiculous they were and to see if they actually lead anywhere.
The goal was actually to see how piggish guys can be and how mostly all gay guys just care about is appearance. After all that's kind of what Grindr is about. It's all about attracting. Which profile picture appeals to you the most. You can't really tell someone's personality off of it. We all had a different kind of picture on Grindr. Bobby had a shirtless nippletastic pic that was positioned at a pleasing angle, Kevin's was focused mainly on his long tongue almost as if he could lick you through the screen and mine was just the simplest one of me smiling with a little bit of dimples showing.
I said to Bobby that it was kind of like we were fishing. We were the bait and I joked that he had the biggest worm and would win. Kevin joked, “Yeah Bobby I bet when you came out of your mom you were all dick and balls.”
I was sitting at the bar texting Knockers and telling him to hurry the fuck up. He was at another bar downing a bottle of champagne. He sent me a pic of it and my response, “Um Ew! You could have came here and gotten us one.” Bobby interrupted my fit and said, “Hey isn't that your friend?” I turn around and there's George. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. He alway is so quiet so it could have been a few minutes. I stood up and gave him a hug.
This is what happened from George's point view:
So I ventured out to the Philly scene last Saturday night with Mr. J., Kile, Kevin, and Bobby, with a cameo appearance by Knockers. The boys made their quarterly trip to Philly from The Valley, and I needed to get out of West Chester and mingle with my fellow homos. It’s not too often, anymore, that I get out. I lived in Philly for almost 3 years, so I was out often enough in the Gayborhood at Woody’s, Tavern, Uncle’s, or 12th Air, or whatever it’s called now. (*cough* iCandy) These days I feel more like Barry from Will & Grace (Karen Walker’s not-so-in the scene gay cousin). Beware, if you go on a date with me, you might get a rainbow flag as a present. And point proven, I walked into Woody’s, and thought I walked into the wrong bar. I said to myself, “wait, this bar looks cool, it can’t be Woody’s.” I even looked back outside (they have windows in their bar) *insert Southern accent here* to see if I was at the right street corner, and I was, and sure enough I found the A-town crew at the downstairs bar, which is all one big room now. Last time I was at Woody’s was October 2010, the night the Phillies lost to the Giants in the clincher. (George lost me at the sports talk.) The Phillies play baseball, for those who aren’t familiar with the bat and ball sport. So somewhere between last year and last week, they re-did the bar. I must say, it looks rather nice. The fake brick walls really bring out the fake pecs and butt cheeks in the room.
I’ve become a two beer queer, so I was pacing myself considerably on my Milo & Otis adventure out. The boys were in town for an hour or so when I arrived. I’ve only met Bobby and Kile once before at Stonewall, on separate occasions, at home in The Valley, and only the third time seeing Kevin in the last year. So let’s break the ice and recap what we’ve done since seeing each other last, and complimenting on how well the bar looks compared to the dump that it was before. Mission accomplished, I need a beer!
At this point it had been over an hour and I started to feel my self-esteem get lower and lower. Still no Knockers either.
It doesn’t help my cause any that I’m a shy and quiet guy. I’m the most awful person to mingle with. I’d be quite content with just being in the presence of others, with not having to talk every second. Then I’ll get “why you so quiet?” *in an Asian accent. It’s just how I am, that’s all, nothing against anyone else. And there’s all these televisions playing songs that I hear on Glee that I don’t know the words to. How un-gay of me. Is there a football game on somewhere I can watch and scratch my balls? (George's "gay card" is going to get revoked) Through this process we are all awaiting on Knockers, who seems to have found himself somewhere else in the city. He’s quite the mingler, and gets caught up quite easily. Must be a Jersey thing.
Had to drink up, we were off to Tavern. My ability to chug a beer quickly is one of my few drinking skills that I’ve retained. It’s good to know I can still get a lot down my throat in a quick amount of time without gagging.
I'll admit I was impressed by this quite a bit. I have no gag reflex but George is on another level of swallowing than I! It's like his throat is a black hole!
On the way we stop for a slice of pizza. What better way to soak up that alcohol than having a nice greasy slice of pizza from the shop across the street from the bar.
I literally was the red headed step child that no one wanted. I knew it was silly and I shouldn't let it get me down, but I just kept thinking this is why I am single. Apparently I don't attract anyone. Am I not cute enough to even deserve a hello?
Tavern’s one of those places where if you don’t know it’s there, you won’t know it’s there. It’s on a side alley in the middle of nowhere. Of course, you walk in right to the Piano Bar, where they play showtunes and The Little Mermaid on a more than semi-frequent basis. The upstairs bar is cute, with a dance floor. I avoid the dance floor at all costs. Give me a bar stool and a beer and I’m just fine, thank you very much. I tried out my dance skills, I pointed out to Mr. J. my best efforts of dancing like Baby’s sister at the end of Dirty Dancing, with her hands to her side trying to be hip. Yeah that’s me dancing. I think I’ll have another beer.
George's dancing lightened my mood a little bit. He was a fish out of water. At this point I was like 6 gin and tonics in. I felt like I needed another one but my money was almost gone. Knockers texted me back saying he wasn't going to make it back to us and that he would make it up to me. All the Grindr nonsense really put me in a foul mood that I was trying to cover up. Forcing a smile isn't something I'm good at. If I'm depressed or upset usually others can tell. I needed Knock to come back to distract me. He is good at that. Oh and to buy me some Grey Goose! I started drunk texting my friend Tristan. I figured maybe he would know how I felt or at least could related. Being surrounded by people and still feeling alone isn't a good feeling. I felt like an even bigger idiot texting him though. “Why am I texting Tristan?” This has drunken disaster written all over it. I stopped put the phone in my pocket and I danced a little bit with Kevin, Kile and Bobby.
George walked off:
I decided to venture down to the Piano Bar for a beer, and to listen to the American Idol wannabes put their best foot forward singing Phantom of the Opera. I’m kinda sappy in this respect, because as Lucy put it in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, “it’s always been my dream that I marry a man who played the piano.” I love to sing, it’s my favorite hobby (yes even more than masturbating). And I dream of finding a man who can play the piano and sing. Everyone has their sappy moment, and that one’s mine.
After waving my lighter at the piano bar, back upstairs to the boys. By this time it was almost 1:30, they were on their last drink, and it was getting time to wrap up and call it a night….but not before another slice of pizza for the road. Gotta get in line before the bars let out at 2 a.m., or else you’re in line FOREVER. And we got in line just in time, cuz after we came out, the line was enormous. Smart thinking on someone’s part.
Until the next time I see the boys, which’ll probably be at home the next time I get up there. I’ll have to remember my pepper spray at The Wall. And maybe I’ll have some of those Glee songs memorized (probably not).
We said our goodbyes to George and it was back to the parking garage to get Bobby's car. Here's Kevin and Kile peeing behind a stairwell trying to avoid the parking garage's security camera.
Our final tally on Grindr
So our social experiment really did blow up in my face. I'm over it now but still feel like I'm not good enough. That I am not the ideal gay man. Like I don't have the right kind of bait to attract that type of guy I want. I'm sticking my worm in the water and no one is biting. If I want to catch Jaws I'm gonna need a bigger boat!
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