Thursday, August 09, 2007

What do I look like?

I had a funny night today. There I was at Cafe Flore, a pretty popular cafe (a coffee house that serves mix alcoholic drinks, how gay is that?) and as usual, I'm killing time waiting to meet up with a friend. This time around, I'm waiting for my friend Jason.

He told me that he was busy in meetings till about 8, so I sat down with my IPod (I'm listening to "A Dirty Job" by Christopher Moore) and some hot "Tension Tamer" Tea and got ready for more "reading". I got a few minutes into it when I heard them announce that they were going to have a benefit for "Under One Roof" a local charity that will benefit about 30 agencies here in the San Francisco Bay Area. They were kicking off the night with a raffle drawing, live performances and selling abstract art by an artist from Palm Springs.

I always want to support as many agencies as I can, so had decided to buy some raffle tickets. I saw the art that was being sold and I was never going to wear any of that tacky faggoty clothes or hang up that kinda stuff in my place. So I'm a bad fag, sue me. I'm Chinese and the raffle was the best deal. Each raffle ticket was one dollar. Five dollars gets you six tickets. Ten dollars and the volunteer will measure your inseam for that amount of tickets.

Did I hear that correctly? Measure my "inseam". I think I probably have the shortest legs in the whole place, no way am I going to get any value there! I would be better off buying with two five dollar bills and get twelve tickets!

So as Rob the volunteer comes near me, I hold up two fives. Damn it, another volunteer sees me and says, "Oh, ten dollars? Do you want your inseam measured?" I shook my head no, cuz I really didn't. She looked confused and asked am I sure. I told her, "Yes, I'm sure."

They really wanted to measure me, they had already seen that I was Asian and wasn't very tall, the bastards. So I told them that they could measure the white drag queen, who I had just seen being measured and saw a huge line of tickets. I figured, hey, at least I'll have as good a chance as that queen!

So off Rob goes, to measure her again. I took a picture as proof. They asked me if I wanted to tear the tickets in two. I said, "Sure." and stood up. I was handed on half of the ticket and the drag queen the other. As I pulled the ticket apart, Rob grabbed my dick through my pants and jack me off!

I was shocked and of course I got hard! I'm just hoping my boyfriend, Scott doesn't show up unexpectedly, that would be a bad thing. So I got my tickets, thanked both Rob and the drag queen, I think her name was Sister Belle Of The Ball (of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence) and I sat down again to read an actual book that I brought along to read. I wasn't going to be able to hear my IPod with this event going on.

As part of the event, there was an alcohol promotion going on. I'm not going to mention what the alcohol was, because although several rounds of the free drinks were passed around all over the place, I wasn't offered any!

I mean, do I look like I'm underage or can't drink or something? I already proved that I had money by buying raffle tickets and I'm still in my business casual clothes since I didn't have time to change after work. So what was it?

I would have to chalk it up to old fashioned racism. Yes, folks, it is still alive and kicking here in San Francisco. Even over something as stupid as free fucking alcohol. I noticed that everybody got drinks, many people got seconds and thirds, I never got one. The lady with the glowing drink tray was standing three feet away from me and made it a point of always having her back to me the whole time as she passed out drinks to everyone except me. How fucking obvious can you get.

If my tea hadn't cooled off, I would've thrown the whole damn thing all over her skinny ass.

Instead, I just went back to my book and wished every there a happy case of jaundice or food poisoning.

The raffle happened and I didn't win anything, but I wasn't surprised, my night was turning out to be pretty crappy anyway.

My friend Jason did show up and we chatted for a bit before he had to take off to meet with another friend of his. I stayed and waited for Stkyrice, who eventually came and we went to dinner.

The two of us headed across the street to Bagdad Cafe. I don't know what it was, but tonight was not my night.

I wasn't very hungry, since I had a slice of pizza earlier, so just ordered a bowl of corn chowder. I thought that was safe, no cooking needed, just scoop it into a bowl and I'm happy. Stkyrice ordered the sloppyjoe with desert fries.

We noticed that the quality of the servers had gone down, dramatically. Another party of seven came in after us and they were treated horribly. By our server. It looked tonight is our lucky night.

Our food arrived. I should say, Stkyrice's food arrived. Mine was still M.I.A. (Missing In America) and was nowhere to be found. I told you tonight's my night. Stkyrice was halfway through his sandwich when my soup came. It was the wrong soup. I looked at it and since it didn't look anything like any kind of chowder, much less corn, I sent it back.

My chowder came back. I felt like I should've checked to see if anyone spit in it or something. How can you tell if someone spit in your chowder? Oh well.

I ate it, and when Stkyrice asked me how it was? I told him that I liked Scott's better, cuz I did. My boyfriend, Scott makes a terrific corn chowder. At that point, Stkyrice asked me if I wanted to leave.

I looked at him and asked if he wanted to start working there, since it looked like he already had the attitude down pat. Stkyrice was already finished with his food, so we waited till I was finished with my soup to leave.

I had always considered Bagdad Cafe one of the best places to eat around the Castro. The food was tasty, inexpensive and the service great. Now, I'm going to have to change my opinion of it. The service has gone down hill and doesn't look like it's getting better anytime soon, or ever and the food along with it.

I love fries and usually sneak as many as I can off of Stkyrice's plate. I had one this time and regretted having even that one!

It's sad when even the fries sucked ass.

So Bagdad Cafe, come for the crappy food, stay for the attitude.

This just ain't my night
From one place to another
It's time to move on.


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