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.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

With This Ring

An actual conversation I had back in May

Her: Patrick! Guess what? I'm pregnant!
Me: Wow!
Her: Guess What Else? I'm getting married!
Me: That's great!
Her: And Guess What else? You're performing the ceremony!
Me: What?

I have done some crazy ass things for my friends. I've housed them during breakups. Fed them when they were unemployed, and even offered to have sex with one who was going through a dry spell (I'm a giver). But becomeing a minister and finding Waldo...I mean Jesus (He's up on the hillside behind the merchants) has got to be one of the craziest things I've ever done. Yet 15 minutes and one online form later, I became a registered minister and leagaly allowed to marry anyone with a valid marriage license.

People always say we need to stop gay marriage, but I think what they actually meant was to stop gays from marrying. I have the power to really fuck up your lives. For instance, in the state of Colorado, all you have to do to be considered "common law married" is state you are a married couple. No forms, no license, and no minister needed. Just the two of you telling someone you are married. Look out catering crowd. Piss me off and *wham*...your married. Go file for a divorce!

For most of my adult life, I've been making a mockery of organized religion and suddenly I am now a part of it. I am a freaking reverend, and conisdered qualified to tell people to spend the rest of their lives together (like it or not). I'm barely qualified with my own relationship (how hard is it to say the "b-word"?).

That being said, I've noticed their is one good thing about being a reverend. Do you know how many guys want to role play priest/alter boy?

Now if you excuse me...I've got to give a certain man who is on his knees communion.

Patrick - 12:41 PM -

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Sneeze

Tonight I am facing a problem. I'm not alone in this problem as every catering waiter and waitress I know has had to face this same problem...but tonight it's my turn. I have to face "the situation".

I didn't call it this first, but rather some of my predecessors have and it's sort of passed down to the newer folk. It was coined in this fashion.

A black waitress was working an event waiting on a table consisting of some extremely rude and racist people. Throughout the evening, the customers spoke down to her including asking her if she was working the catering gig to keep off welfare. The waitress never reacted, but was fairly miserable. At the end of the meal, the head of the table patted her on the ass and said she was a "good girl".

The waitress, infuriated, put the platter down and walked away from the table, and spoke to the managing party planner. The planner said there was nothing she could do. She then spoke to the other waiters, lamenting that she woudld have to work for the same people in another week. She had to make a choice.

A: She could carry this up to the main office, indicating both the racial and sexual harassment that she had to put up with, and insist that either she not have to work these particular people or if she did, that they be not allowed to treat her in the fashion she was treated in. That being said, raising that kind of problem would likely insure that she would not get future bookings of anykind as she'd be a trouble maker.

B: She could put up with it, swallow her pride, and pray the other wait staff can run enough interference to keep her away from these miserable people. That, and if she could get away with it...serve them a sneezer appetizer.

Thus, she chose B...and last night I worked with her, and explained my upcoming evening to her.

I am working at a venue that books a lot of business through my catering company. The events are generally large scale, usually with 300k or higher budgets, and the catering firm salivates on these parties. The last time I worked at this venue, the person who runs the event space got drunk. Really drunk. Drunk enough that several times in the evening, he backed me up against a wall, and one particular time, actually put his hands down my pants. He's a lecherous creep, and I hate working when he's around.

The situation exists. I guess I'll be bringing a lot of pepper for a sneeze attack.

Patrick - 12:34 PM -

Friday, October 24, 2008

Newness

Last night, after getting home from a catering shift, I completely cleaned my apartment. Wiped down and washed the kitchen, cleaned the bathroom, put away any clutter, and brought out the vaccume for an early morning sweep when I'd wake up.

This morning, waking up sick, I've been cleaning my place a bit more, while napping on the side. I washed my windows, wiped down the mirrors, and folded and put away all of my laundry. I've now just finished changing my sheets.

You know that inital part of the relationship where you always want to clean the house before he arrives, make everything look its best, have fresh pressed clothes, and have him think you have no bad habits.

Yeah that part is getting old.

Patrick - 2:19 PM -

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Whitey Got You Down?

Oddly, this political season, I've not blogged about politics or the political candidates. Frankly, it bores me when only one side is being stated. The pro Obama crowds read thier own blogs, and the Pro McCain people read their own blogs, and neither care to read the opposing opinion without spewing off some uneducated rambling tirade that usually is more emotionally driven and less thought out.

But I do have a thought I am posting out there. Back in 1980, Bush Senior was pretty harsh on Ferraro during the vice presidential debates. The press and the public looked poorly on Bush as a man picking on a woman. Had Reagan not been able to spin things back around, and our economic situation not been so bad), Mondale may have actually had a fighting chance.

It's why Biden had to run such a fine line when debating Palin, as he didn't want to look like he was picking on a defenseless woman. No matter what...men aren't supposed to pick on women.

This has me wonder. Would McCain be making a much more agressive campaign against if Obama was a white man? Or is the risk of appearing racist so easy and dangerous in the public eye that it's better to not have the traditional mudslinging that happens at the end of the campaign?

Remember that when McCain used the phrase "that one" to refer to Obama during the 2nd debate, people claimed it was derrogatory and racist. Personally I think McCain got shafted on that call, but it's all about public perception.

It makes me wonder, has this been a fair political race at all? Can a white man run against a black man without the race card coming into factor?

Patrick - 12:15 PM -

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Conversations

Excerpt from an actual conversation last night:

Me: So I got the results of the skills interest survey from the career counselor. Apparently, my top three career matches are Financial Analyst, Lawyer, and Interior Designer.

Him: Interior Designer? Ummm...I'm not so sure you have the eye for that.

Me: Excuse me? Do you ever want me to give you head again?

Him: Yeah...you're definately a lawyer.

Patrick - 1:33 PM -

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Careers

Today, I have a meeting with a counselor. Not a psychological counselor (althought I'm the first to admit I could benefit from one), but rather a career counselor. It's time to throw it to the professionals and have them help me to figure out what my next steps are in regards to what and where I want to go.

Now I had met with a director of HR at one point a few weeks ago, and he asked me a not so fun question. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

***Blank Stare***

I'm not sure I understand those words. "Free time". I've been working non-stop for nearly 3 years. It may sound odd, but I really don't have any hobbies anymore. I don't play sports like I used to, I'm never able to take time for myself, and when I have a free shift (a day is unnaturally odd), I'm more likely to just sit in front of the TV.

Yet, the first question the career counselor asks is "what do you like to do?", followed by telling me I need to incorporate what I like to do into what I want to do for a living.

What do I like to do?
Drink with friends
Have enormous amounts of sex
Converse with other people

Great...I'm either a prostitute or a US Senator.

Patrick - 11:33 AM -

Friday, October 17, 2008

Friday Fun

Ok...so I decided it was time to learn photoshop.

This was my best first attempt.

Patrick - 4:11 PM -

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Planners

As an Atheist, I really have come to not believe in a god. No all knowing, ever good, ball of light that is planning on dooming me for me sinning ways. No everlasting heaven, no dark tunnel with a bright white light. Just worms and decomposition. I'm fine with that.

Except

If I don't believe in heaven and and all good and loving deity, how can I believe in hell and an all evil creature. And unfortunately, I've met that all evil being. They are called Wedding Planners.

And last night, I had to wait on the classless bunch. A famous crystal manufacturer (it begins with a "S") holds a bridal showcase event each year at this time in Rockefeller Center. Bridal designers showcase their wedding gowns, cake companies sample their cakes, and different alcohol companies give their alcohol as ways to show you how much you can spend. And these wedding planners are the ones to prey upon the young women and convince them to overspend themselves into premarital debt.

We start with the venue. This prize piece of real estate is located at Rockefeller Center and diagonally across from St. Patrick's Cathedral (where you can get married if your Catholic). This is one of the smaller venues, with only 5000 sq feet of outdoor garden space. All for only a mere $50k rental. Staffing and catering are extra, so expect to pay $200 a person for the dinner you'll be serving.

Now no wedding would be complete without the wedding gown. This taffeta hand sewn pearls mass of clothing (which can weigh many many pounds) is placed on the bride in a fashion that will have her constantly fearful that she may spill something on it all evening. These wedding planners ate it up, and by far, the hottest dress was the Vivienne Westwood (which went for merely a half a million dollars)

But in the event that the parents are too cheap to pay that much for their daughter to look the most beautiful on "her special day", their are other alternatives, each running just under 100k.

Most importantly, every wedding isn't complete without making enough cake to feed the entire nation. While passing drinks last night, I overheard a planner speaking to the press about how he recommends as a wedding planner an average of 4 slices of cake per guest.

And people wonder why we are the fattest nation? 4 slices of cake per person? I had wedding cake last night for dinner, and I could barely get through 1 slice. (Granted, I can't swallow that easily...but come on!)

Now I fully know that the people attending this event book only large expensive weddings (with 2+million budgets), but the sentiment behind the planners is the same regardless of the budget. Spend as much as possible to have the "dream wedding".

Catering weddings used to depress me a little. In my lifetime, I never expect my family to gather together and toast my relationship to another man, and after seeing the ridiculous amounts that these planners are selling things at, I'm not sure I'd want to get married.

I'd rather just tell him "I love you...let's go eat", while my closest friends join us in a potluck than go through all of the pomp and circumstance.

But that means I'd have to say the "b-word" outloud...and that's not something I do very easily.

Patrick - 12:50 PM -

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Reading the Signs

In 2004, while living in Cleveland, I took unofficial polls of the election. I would driving around and count all the political signage I saw on the lawns of all the homes. What was interesting to me was how when Bush was re-elected, just how angry people were. Businesses that had placed a Republican ticket sign in the window had to deal with post election organized boycotts.

This year, living in probably one of the most Democrat friendly areas, I'm seeing a whole different story. The socialites willingly discuss how Obama will be a good choice for the country, and McCain Supporters are very quiet in the city.

But walking around, I notice just how few signs I'm seeing in apartment windows. In this city, making your political choice in writing for the world to see is nearly nonexistent. I've had to rely on "official" polls, which although more accurate, really don't tell me much about my neighborhood.

I'm wondering...will there be more calls for boycotts based on how people voted? We're polarizing in this election in a dangerous way, and unless our leaders can work out compromise...nothing will get done over the next 4 years.

Hmmm...sounds like history is about to repeat itself.

Patrick - 12:52 PM -

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Banshee

A few years ago, I was sleeping next to someone who was snoring peacefully next to me. It fascinated me that he could look so damn sexy and so peaceful at the same time. Before I knew what I could really think about what I was doing, I reached out a placed my hand on his chest.

Ok...I'm lying here. I actually reached out and just ever so lightly caressed his nipple. What can I say? I've got an enormous sex drive and when a half naked man is sleeping next to me, and I wake up, I'm going to want sex again. Why not start out by lightly caressing his nipple.

Except that my bedmate at the time screamed like a banshee. Seriously, if had been a cat, I would have had to pry his claws out of the ceiling. He wanted to know what I was doing, and I did what anyone would have done. I denied that I had even touched him and said he must have dreamed it.

Saturday night, while sleeping in a tent, I woke up again, and looked over at my sleeping partner. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your outlook) I couldn't see him, as it was freaking pitch black out. So I lay there, trying to get back to sleep, listening to the sounds of the woods, and what ever wild animals were planning on attacking the flimsy tent we were sleeping in. We city folk are used to having more than nylon for bedroom walls. As I lay there, I imagined the bear that was most likely looking at our tent as a small snack, and unfortunately, I had to pee.

Bad.

Thus, at 3 in the morning, I had to crawl out of my sleeping bag, out of the tent, and wander in the pitch black woods to a tree outside of the camp area to relieve my bladder. And I didn't think to bring a flashlight. Feeling my way back to the tent, I misjudged, and tripped over my tent mate.

He screamed like a banshee, and wanted to know what I was doing.

Can you believe I actually tried to convince him that he had dreamed it?

When I was first asked to go camping, Sitting in the woods, Saturday night, freezing my ass off, I realized something.

Patrick - 12:57 PM -

Friday, October 10, 2008

Hassling

Dear Elizabeth Hasselbeck,
Recently, while wating at the dentist for some preliminary work to be performed on my molar, I had the opportunity to watch you on Barbara Walter's The View. Before that, I had watched you on survivor.

Although I don't agree with your personal and political ideologies...I have to admit...I thoroughly enjoyed you getting told off by not one or two, but three of your cohosts. Perhaps if you actually were prepared better, you might be able to at least argue your point, without getting a finger wagged in your face.

Oh...and one more thing...

Never piss off a black woman.

Sincerly.
Patrick

Patrick - 2:53 PM -

Thursday, October 09, 2008

First Impressions

Ok...so I decided I needed a change to the layout. Feel free to criticize. As for RSS and Atom feeds, since I'm hard coding, I've not figured out how to do this yet. I'm getting there.

I won't be the first to say this. I've dated quite a bit. Ok...that may be down playing a bit, but I'd like to think that I'm more difficult to get into than a community college. So believe me when I say this. There are some rules to dating that must always be followed.

For instance, when dating someone new, you don't tell your family about it until you are both ready, as you don't want the expectations of too many people hanging over your heads.

Last weekend, the rules were broken.

The guy I've been dating told me that his sister would be in town for the weekend, and he'd love if the three of us could go out to dinner. Although nervous about meeting a family member, I agreed.

The two of us were to meet her at a local and very casual restaurant in my neighborhood. We waited at the bar, my date and I wearing jeans and t-shirts, and drinking beers. As his sister walked in, she walked quickly up to my date and said "I am so sorry".

His parents were with her.

My date introduced me to his sister, his father, and lastly...his mom. One look from the woman said it all..."You're the man who is fucking my son." Which although true, really was something I wasn't prepared for.

I finished my beer in one drink and ordered another one, asking what his family would like to drink. They ordered water. I now looked like the "Alcoholic man who is fucking her son".

We sat for dinner and conversation begins. They ask what I do for a living. That's always a complicated question for me, but comparing it to my date...let's just say he's got a very professional degree and job and I'm a nobody in the job world. I accepted it a long time ago...but trying to make my self look better in the parents eyes...well that wasn't happening.

I am now "the careerless alcoholic who is fucking her son".

I drink more beer, and order a salad off of the menu with nuts. I should know better. I have accepted a long time ago that I will likely not ever be able to eat as comfortable as everybody else. Steak, pasta, heavy breads and nuts are not allowed to be eaten, as I just can't swallow it. So me being a nervous dumbass, I ordered a salad full of walnuts.

And promptly puked it back up in the bathroom. Which would have been very covert, except that my date's father was in the bathroom as well.

Now I am the "bullimic, careerless, alcoholic who is fucking her son."

I skip dessert, as I'm ready for the evening to be over. My date has no clue the apprehension I have been going through, although his sister leans in and says I'm doing fine. She knows the rules!

We walk back to my apartment...I thought to myself. He's so lucky that my family doesn't live anywhere near me.

Patrick - 11:05 AM -

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Answers

He says: "This weekend, why don't we go camping. I know a great place near the lake, and if we bring warm enough clothes, we should be really comfortable. We can go fishing one day, and cook what we catch for dinner. We can also do a nice hike the other day. It's not supposed to rain that hard, so if we bring rain gear, we should be comfortable. What do you say?"

"fuck"

The things I'll put up with to get laid...

Patrick - 1:02 PM -

Friday, October 03, 2008

Head Waiter

I would have much rather been home when the debate was on last night, but I was scheduled to work a job at a private residence last night. Thankfully, I was told it was a debate watching party, so I'd at least get to hear the debates while serving appetizers and white wine.

Now as with most Central Park West residences, all service staff must enter the back entrance where you are to ride the service elevator to the back door that opens into the kitchen. It's the new millennium version of "back of the bus". Upon walking into the kitchen, the place had a nice familiar tone. White walls, white cabinetry...something about it looked vaguely familiar.

I set up the bar and waited for the rest of the staff to arrive. The owner of the apartment came into the kitchen to introduce himself and as we shook hands, I looked him over. Well built, hot body, strong arms (this is way too familiar)...I remembered where I had met this man before.

Back in January...this man and his boyfriend had a sex party in this very apartment. His boyfriend who was also my doctor.

I could tell by the look on his face that he vaguely remembered me...but was trying to place where he had met me. I considered dropping my pants to give him a better idea, but instead continued to work. About 10 minutes later, I saw that all to knowing look of recognition on his face.

When he boyfriend arrived, the look was immediate. As well as for some of his male guests (but not their wives).

At the end of the night, he handed me $100 for my troubles, but didn't bother tipping the rest of the staff. I wonder if he tipped me for my service, or my servicing?

Patrick - 2:19 PM -

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Gay Men in the Mist

Yesterday night, I did something I've not done in a very long time. I went to a straight bar. Now this was not really my choice, but I was asked to check out a group of people that were meeting at this bar, and see if I was interested in joining in a ski house share (oh the pitfalls of dating someone who works ski patrol on the side).

Walking into this place, I immediately got the feeling I usually get in straight singles bars. The same feeling that straight men get when going to gay bars. The feeling that I don't belong.

The group of guys that were meeting there were 7 men, all in their late 20's and early 30's, and all very heterosexual. As in, when the waitress walked away, they all started commenting on how much they really wanted to "get a piece of that". (insert ogre like agreement here)

*shudder*

I left the bar, and called a friend and asked him why is it that I, like so many of my gay friends feel uncomfortable in straight bars? He answered it was the "lingering smell of vagina". Ok...he was joking, but he honestly wasn't able to answer it. I've even been hesitant to join my own alumni club because it's been primarily straight men in their late 20's swilling beer and cheering on their college football team.

I got home and thought about it more, I have to wonder...can straight men and gay men really be friends, without having a woman friend as a commonality? Why is there such a difference between the two, and why is it so rare to find a common ground?

I've been out as a gay man since I was 15 years old. I currently can't think of many straight men I actually know on more than just a work situation basis.

As for the ski house...I wonder how comfortable the rest of this 11 bedroom house would be if they knew 2 gay men were sharing a room in their midst?

Patrick - 10:46 AM -

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

My Hole

Three weeks ago, one of my molars cracked and I am now missing a portion of my tooth. It feels weird, I'm concerned about this getting much worse before treatment (insurance takes forever to pre-approve crowns) and it's always on my mind.

So my dentist put a temporary filling in. And it promptly fell back out 24 hours later during the Italian gorging fest.

I went back to the dentist and he put in a "stronger" temporary filling, which lasted a whole two weeks, before falling out while eating onion soup in a restaurant.

And I called my dentist *again* looking for a temporary filling, but he says at this point, a temporary filling isn't the best option and instead I need to start the process and get a crown for the tooth. His secretary checked his calender and informed me that the first appointment he has available is October 17th. That's 16 days I exclaimed.

The secretary tried to appease me, but seriously...16 days?!? I ended up saying to her as I was hanging up "all I want is for him to put something in my hole!".

I hate when I have my own personal Beavis and Butthead moment.

Patrick - 2:50 PM -