The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Surprised!

Last Sunday night, I had drinks with some friends in the East Village. That I went out on a Sunday night is one thing, but that I went to a bar over 70 blocks away from where I live is surprising. That's two subway trains on a Sunday. Do you know how slow the trains run on a Sunday night? I could grow a full beard waiting for a damn A train on a Sunday Night. Yet, I was meeting friends, and to me, that's more important than waiting on subways (and isn't that what cabs are for?).

At this bar, which was primarily filled with college students, the "hosts" of the special night were making announcements on the microphone. Only in New York City, where bar competition is so brutal, does nearly every bar have a "host" that plans a special party. This particular party consisted of hippy men, many who haven't seen a bar of soap in some time, walking around the bar without pants on. Before the amateur strip show had started, the hosts made a particular announcement. "Heeeeyyy! Come up to the bar right now, and show you're dick, pussy, or ass and get a free shot."

I considered it, and wisely chose not to do so...seeing that I didn't need free alcohol that badly. However, when the cocktail waiter came by, and offered the free shot, I figured what the hell, flashed him and got my free shot.

Surprised?

I was. But not for the reason you might think.

Upon getting my free shot, I asked him exactly what was in the shot. His answer was "booze".

Back in my college days, I would never have dropped trou for a free drink. In fact, showing my dick would only been done in the privacy of a sex situation. I was modest, and would never have done so. At the age of 37, I've been naked in front of enough people that I've not even flinched at being asked to show it. Heck...I've emailed a picture to two different people this week.

At the same time, in my early 20's, I would have drank the shot and asked questions about what it was later...usually when I could barely walk. I distinctly remember a cocktail waiter shooting an entire shot into my mouth using a super soaker. Now...well I have to get up in the morning...so drinking shots of bad tequila is not my idea of fun.

"When did I grow up?" I thought on my 70 block subway ride home. What happened to my carefree youth where I just didn't care, and was I really that stupid? Wait don't answer that...I already know.

Patrick - 11:55 AM -

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