Esteemed

In typical Friday night fashion, I am sitting at some resturant-slash-bar or another having a few drinks with friends. This is just how we roll in good ole Dallas, Texas. Since the margaritas are especailly good tonight, I have more than one. Uh..I have..two. Am mega giddy and boisterous, as I tend to be when drinking. Since I’m really not a heavy drinker, a little alcohol goes a long way.

Of course, Cake, my trusty friend and companion for all things alcoholic is right there beside me, laughing for the hundreth time as I make a joke and proceed to laugh whilst thumping the table and yelling between giggles ‘I CRACK MYSELF UP’. I do this even when sober (though probably not quiet as loud) so I don’t know why she’s laughing just as hard as I am.

“Oh I forgot to tell you,” she says, when we are done giggling. “I went to lunch with Bill today.”

Bill is our ex-boss and both Cake and I got to know him on a friendly basis when we worked for him and enjoy the very gay Bill’s company very much.

“We were talking about you,” she continues as I roll my eyes exaggeratedly, which sends us both into another fit of giggles.

“Umm hmm,” I say “because y’all have absolutely nothing else to talk about.”

“Oh we DO, but he was just saying how he thinks you’re absolutely beautiful and its a shame that you don’t know it,” she said.

“OH GREAT SO A GAY GUY FINDS ME HOT,” I must of said it a tad loud, since the entire bar turned to stare at our table.

“UH yeah,” Cake chokes out. She’d just taken another sip of her drink. Ill-timed, right before my outburst. “He said that if he thinks you’re gorgeous and he’s gay he just wonders what straight men think when they see you, its a compliment of the highest order.”

Hmmm…is it really? Or is it just the gay guys that think I’m cute. This is the second time in a week that a gay man has told me how hot I am…where are the straight ones? Cake seems to think that I scare them off with the perpetual scowl I wear on my face when one approaches or looks in my direction. Maybe she’s right, maybe I dont smile. I give off the ’stay away or I will cut you’ signal because I am not ready for anything at all. But I fear that if I don’t let this armor down soon, I will freeze this way, just as your mom told you that “your face would freeze that way” when you incessantly stuck your tongue out at your little brother. Maybe I should take this compliement from Bill, let it stroke my ego and my self-esteem and smile at the next hot man that happens by.