bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
nuts in my beardThe good news is that when I left work at midnight, I had 17 dollars in my pocket - 2 hours and 3 beers later, going home, I had 27 dollars. The bad news is that this morning, with the sun poking at my eyelids and the horrible sound of snoring somewhere in my bed, I awoke to discover it was me, just me, doing the snoring. At some point in the evening, staring into space and waiting for a bad tune to end and praying for a good tune to begin, my progressive lens eyeglasses gave me something to waste a few minutes on. They're sorta like bifocals, but more complicated. There are these zones of differing prescriptions, so depending on the distance of the thing, or man, or manthing, you are looking at, you need to adjust your head and look thru the correct part of the lens. So I'm busily studying the peanut shells on the floor, the barstools, the men at the bars, the low ceilings, and I spot what looks like paper currency on the floor. Directly between two guys on stools with their backs to each other, there was no way I could walk up and inspect the paper. OK, there is a way, and I've done it, but scooping stuff off the floor, a little wobbley after 2 beers, with your face in someone's crotch, doesn't seem to attract friends. Don't ask me why. I've done it, and even offered the bills to the men in close proximity to the dough, only to get a "what's with this weird guy?" look.
Sometime later, from a distance enjoying the free peanuts generously dispersed around the bar, I notice two guys leave the bar and head to the back, either for sex or drugs, opening up a space near the crumpled paper. Walking over, and looking down, I see it's still there. I don't bother figuring out which part of the glasses to look thru to see what the heck is on the floor, but just bend over and grab what turns out to be a brand new 20. Woo-hoo, as they say.
I go sit back down in the comfy chair, finish my beer, and notice the two men who had headed to the back head into the smaller bathroom. Drugs. For sex, I think the routine is to go in separately, and look non-chalantly, somewhat sheepishly, back and forth before heading in, making sure your friends don't see you. For drugs, you go in together, the one not 'holding' opening the door for the guy with the drugs. Sigh. I didn't really like that one guy anyway. I head to the bar, the bartender who I know comes to serve me, and as he hands me my beer, says "You have nuts in your beard." Indeed. I drink this last one pretty fast, and head home.