The Grossest Thing Happened on the Way to the Men's Room

Another reason why I never ever go to bars alone ever:

I went out last night with my friend Stuart because Splash does this Broadway thing on Mondays with a 2-4-1 drink special on everything they've got. It's fun, but he left and I didn't wanna. So I talked for a while with the couple at the next table over. They were nice and I ate their pretzels.

Anyway, then I was gonna go so I went downstairs to the bathroom real quick and this guy stopped me by the basement bar that's real quiet with just a few people around it. He was extremely yucky with long hair and about 15 years on me, which isn't a problem really. I'm not agist, I'm yuckyist. He was slimy looking and his shirt was open halfway down, exposing his shorn chest and making him look like he lived in Miami in the 70's. He probably did. The shirt had flowers on it.

But who cares, I'm feeling nice and so I humored him and said hello. But then when I asked that he did, he said he was a porn star and I said "No you're not" but he stood by it. I think he does bad-smelling hair videos. It's a niche.

Also, he talked like a frat boy making fun of gay people.

He was trying to be sexy, so I undermined it be telling him he smelled strongly whisky and looked like he'd had a long day. His response was to order another drink and one for me. There was no way I was touching it, I said "There's whisky in there, I hate whisky, it stinks."

Anyway, it was quickly time for me to leave and never come back, but I knew saying "I have a boyfriend, he's just not here tonight" would not be enough. (Don't ask me how I knew, I just knew.) So instead I said "I have a boyfriend, he's waiting upstairs for me, I have to go. Now. Before it's too late." But he said "No, stay and talk with me a little longer." Jesus. Ok, so I said, "No, I don't think so, my boyfriend's pretty jealous. Plus he's really big and plays football so he'll probably want to kick your ass."

I might tell a lot of lies, but that man is no porn star.

"He sounds hot," the man says. "Oh yes, he's very hot. And young" by which I meant "hotter and younger than you." Anyway, he finally says "Ok, go ahead but how about a kiss goodbye" to which I truthfully replied "That is a fabulously bad idea", which he did not hear because he was busy leaning in. The most terrifying part was that his tongue was already out of his mouth before he was even within striking distance. I lept back, tripping over a stool and smashing the jack and coke he had bought me all over the floor. Successfully attracting the attention of the entire bar, I also firmly and forcefully said "Stay. Away from me" before stalking away, catching the eye of the cute blonde at the corner of the bar who gave me a bemused smile.

Success. This marks the second time I have humiliated a desperate asshole at a gay bar since moving to New York. Well, technically they humiliated themselves, but I'm gonna go ahead and take credit for it.

Moral of this blog: Appearances are never deceiving.