my day with a gay
as i mentioned in my last post, not every girl is cut out to be friends with a gay man. you have to embody certain characteristics while also balancing those characteristics with polar opposite ones. it's a tricky personality, and only the strong few are able to maintain it and inspire with it. of course, gay men come in all shapes and sizes (literally). there are uber flamboyant ones, extremely manly ones, laid back ones, ones who will talk shit with you all day long, and those perfect ones who represent all of the above and still make cookies like a bitch and will tell you if they hate your outfit.
this past sunday, i had the ABSOLUTE PLEASURE of having my first shopping experience with my new gay friend - let's call him "Bob." he refuses to let me name his name or put up a picture of us because we "have no hot pictures together yet." ugh. that's SO like Bob. anyway, we decided through a series of sarcastic and ridiculous texts on Saturday night that i was going to drag him along with me to the mall Sunday morning. of course, he was all over this. not only because he likes men, but because he's one of the most fashionable and spontaneous people i have yet to encounter in my life thus far.
i told him i'd pick him up at 1130 SHARP since the mall opened at noon. WELL, you might guess how taken aback i was when he let me know that a) he had been up all night pinning on Pinterest and was addicted and b) the mall actually was opening at 11! i told him i'd finish vacuuming and be in front of his apartment by 1040. and guess what? he was ON TIME. imagine that. most of my girlfriends are rarely ever on time. he was clad in a zip-up vest and ready to fucking go.
after him yelling at me where to turn and where to park, we got a fantastic spot far away from all the chaos and crazy bitches running through the parking lot screaming, and breezed through the fucking mall like we own it. we were amazed by how amazingly amaze of a job we did. we hit every store we needed to while pausing briefly to snap photos like this:
i watched in awe as Bob sauntered right in front of customers without saying "excuse me" and held open every single door for me. he even calmed me down when i started to stress and said, "take your time. i love to go slow and really see everything. oh em FUCKING gee, hellooooo long-sleeved v-neck!" we gawked at an American Apparel employee who couldn't be older than 15 and had full braces, a massive side ponytail, and her odd looking pale thighs shoved into a pair of super tight jean shorts (did i mention it's December? i don't CARE that it's Dallas). we tried our damndest to joke with people but they all stared at us emptily. we stood in line at starbucks so i could be pretentious and get a dirty chai latte and drink it with a straw. Bob found a coffee mug he was dying for and played with it for 2 minutes while exclaiming, "are you kidding me right now? i NEED this. like i don't even care that i just bought one. i need this one."
after our escapade at the mall, we got the hell out of there and i was forced to drive us to our next shopping stop: a tiny little "station" in a trendy part of Dallas that has a parking situation that would make anyone want to off themselves. but, of course, i had to listen because i was with my gay and what he says goes. i tried my best to snap a picture of us at this point in the day (mind you, it was only about noon thirty. we move fast and we're efficient), but he REFUSES to let me use the one decent picture i took. he's a bitch.
we sauntered into West Elm and i spent the duration of the time texting while Bob pointed out that almost every single item in that store was in his apartment (that i soon would see). we then made our way into urban (duh) where i basically just took pictures the entire time. examples:
most amazing picture/photo caption ever? that's a rhetorical question. AMAZING. i think i laughed for 2 minutes.
i made Bob capture this on camera. i'm pretty sure the whole "stache" craze is on its way out, though... maybe i'm wrong? it just seems sooooo.... NOVEMBER.
after all of this shopping, we were getting worn the eff out. i hadn't been on a friendship shopping trip in months, maybe years, and all the gossip and complete lack of inner monologues was really making us hungry. to my complete disbelief and excitement, Bob suggested Twisted Root for lunch. what???? this gay literally weighs 86 pounds and can probably fit into size 24 jeans for women (not that i own any even close to that size) (if i did, you KNOW you KNOWWW i'd make him try them on and prance around for me). i didn't want to NOT jump on this golden opportunity to show off how much i can eat in front of my uber thin man-loving pal, so i took him up on the burger offer. the only word i can use to describe watching this guy who usually brings lettuce and lemon juice for lunch CHOW DOWN on a burger is erotic. he went to town on every single sauce on the table, squirting GLOBS onto each bite and following it up with a pickle. pure magic.
you think the day's over just because we ate? ARE YOU CRAZY, BITCH? obviously i needed to buy some chicken at the store and drop it off at my apartment, so Bob got to see my place. my heart was racing as we climbed the stairs. "what if he hates it? what if i can hear him lying and can never look him in the face again?" as i opened my apartment door, we were both struck in the face with the smell of asshole mixed with dead animal. "FUCK. THE CHICKEN I THREW OUT THAT WAS OLD." i had totally meant to take the trash out, but got lazy. HOW WAS I TO KNOW HE WAS GOING TO SEE MY APARTMENT? i was mortified. "it smells like ass mixed with good smells," he told me as he proceeded to literally run around my apartment screaming. we got the fuck out of there fast and decided to end the day at his abode.
and what an abode it is. he's not kidding when he says he owns pretty much everything from west elm and restoration hardware. i don't know how he does it, but my god. this gay has his apartment DECKED in everything fabulous: modern, yet vintage. exposed, yet well-finished. gay, yet totally bachelor pad (minus the DVD of "my best friend's wedding" sitting out in his room). after the very short tour, Bob decided the wine he had originally bought for his grandma for Christmas needed to be opened and poured for us. he'd replace it later:
just gorgeous, isn't it? i would expect no less from a $6 bottle of shiraz and a gorgeously decorated apartment. we cozied up on his leather (yet somehow totally comfortable) furniture with our cheap wine, and spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening getting kinda shitty, watching italians cook, gawking at how NOT enormously upsetting christina aguilera's body used to be in Burlesque and listening to the Shirelles and Carole King. we belted out our on rendition of "and i am telling you..." from Dream Girls, and i even put my phone on the charger for about 30 minutes. it was a great day. one of the bests i've had in a while. and all thanks to a skinny wanker named Bob.
here's to you, Bob! or should i say Bub? HA (he hates that term of endearment).
go out there and get yourself a gay, ladies. just be sure to treat him right, feed him wine and let him run the entire show. it makes for a beautiful, lasting relationship.