The rude bartender and church

I know I suck at writing blogs these days. The truth is that I haven’t been focused very well, so I’m hoping to get back on track. But until I do, here’s a quick rundown of what’s been going on.

As those of you who watch KIDDTV have seen, I am not in the studio with the crew anymore. Now I’m in Kellie’s old office. The studio has been re-engineered to accommodate the TV part of the show. And since I am not part of the Dish Nation cast, I don’t need to be in there. So I now run the controls in Kellie’s room and go into the studio during breaks to set Kidd up for what he needs. It’s freezing in that room. And it’s uncomfortable for me to be away from the people I’ve worked so closely with since I was 17. But it’s reality and I’m going to try and make the best of it. I’m going to attempt to set up like a Google hangout type thing or YouTube live channel. Really all it will be is me pushing buttons and talking to them through a glass wall when I disagree or strongly agree with something. But maybe there’s an audience for that. I don’t know, but I guess we will see. At least I didn’t get totally Ann Curry’d and get fired.

Last weekend was greatness. My favorite people came into town to spend it with me. Minus Keith. He couldn’t get on a flight. Amber was here for the day on Friday. Christy and Alina were here Friday through Sunday. I had enough fun to realize that my body can’t handle all that anymore. I’m like a zombie the next day. That’s dumb. But I survived. Here’s the rundown. On Friday, Amber and I went and picked up Christy and Alina from The W. We then went to Kellie’s pre-birthday party at another hotel. From there we caught the ambulance turned into a party bus with loud speakers and a stripper pole inside to Al’s bar. I might need to have one of those electric fences put up around the stage whenever we are there for that kind of party. I think I’m awesome. I think that everyone wants to see me dance and pretend to perform the song that Spindarella is playing. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it’s all in my head. I don’t know. Regardless, I was up there as often as I could be and I loved every single second of it. It was really a cool thing that Amber was able to come down for the Spindarella show. When I think of the song “Push It,” I think of her. So when that song came on, I made sure she was on stage and in a camera shot where I could get her on the stage with Spindarella while she played her song. Being there for that was so seriously cool for me. I’m glad we were able to share it.

Saturday night I was the special guest at Gay Bingo. It’s held the third Saturday of the month and proceeds benefit the Resource Center of Dallas. Cool. I’m down with maybe drawing some people there to help charity. And I got a few tickets to invite others along. Win win, right? The Bingo part of the night was fun. They do games in patterns instead of having to fill up the whole card. I guess having to get fewer numbers to win helps keep things moving along. Well the game I was calling had no G’s. But when a G popped up and Jenna Sky showed me the ball, I called it out. Oops! My bad!  But then the audience started chanting “Jail, jail, jail.” See, there’s a Gay Bingo jail on stage for people who don’t follow rules. If you don’t stand up and say OOOOOHHHHH when O-69 is called out, you go to jail. And someone has to pay $20 to get you out. But when I had to go to jail, Jenna Sky seized the moment and said that it would be $1,000 to get me out of jail. That’s 50 times what it usually is! So I sat there in jail for a couple games and then thru intermission. And then times got tough. We were a couple hundred dollars away and I wanted to go back and play Bingo, so I offered up my DJ services to the person who paid what was left. That went quickly and now I’m DJing Sammy’s wedding in October. Which is fine with me. But so much pressure!

Bingo is held at a place called The Rose Room. It’s a room upstairs at the club that is aimed to bring in young gay boys who like to dance with their shirts off and pretend to make babies in the corners. I get that I am not their demo clientele.  So after Bingo was over, we left S4 and got our hands stamped to come back for the drag show. Easy breezy. We left for a while and came back for the show. Get in no problem. Go upstairs to the same room they had Bingo in. the same room my butt sat in jail for ever to raise money for the Resource Center of Dallas. And that ‘s when it happened. The front of the room was pretty full. Every seat was taken. The back of the room, on the other hand, was empty. Seriously every chair in the back was open. So my friend Christy and I see about 50 empty stools sitting there and decide to go grab some and bring them up. That was apparently the worst, most offensively rude thing I could have done in the eyes of one bartender. There was music playing at a loud volume and plenty of people in the room. Yet I could still hear him screaming at me that I couldn’t take the stools out of the back and who do I think I am and all this other unnecessary stuff. Not just a “hey, you’re not supposed to do that.” He was berating me. So I stopped and asked him why he was being so rude to me. His reply was “why are you being so rude moving stools blah blah blah.” If I had been told 12 times before that I couldn’t move the stool and still insisted on doing it, MAYBE I could understand him getting loud with me. But I didn’t know that it was such a catastrophe to MOVE A STUPID STOOL. I so wanted to get in his face and tell him what I thought. I would’ve gotten kicked out. So what! You don’t treat people that way! I hope that place slides downhill fast and none of the bars with NICE people will hire them. It’s insanely expensive to get into that place. Drinks are high. And now I can add that the staff treats you like CRAP if they don’t want to get in your pants. This story has nothing to do with Gay Bingo or the people who put that together. They are great. It’s the jerkface coked out bartender upstairs who should be called out. And S4 for hiring such a rude person to represent them.  I went on the Caven website to email them about this bartender, but there’s no contact for anyone other than the reservation taker. Haha. What a joke. What goes around comes around…

Fast forward through last week to this weekend. I’ve had a runny nose, cough, sinus headache, and all that mucus stuff this weekend. So I’ve not done a whole lot. I did, however, go to church this morning to see my friend Kelli sing with the band. They were awesome. And I really liked the sermon about infidelity. Until the end. At the end the preacher said that wives should consider themselves and not meeting their husbands needs as a reason for him to go out and cheat. He said it’s like sending a starving person into a field of food. It’s mans instinct to have his sex needs met. This is where the preacher lost me. I guess I’m a strong advocate of personal responsibility. Here’s the reality of it, preacher man. I can take 10 naked playboy playmates to a man with the bluest balls ever and it would be HIS CHOICE to act on his feelings. We all handle situations differently. But to ever blame any other person on an act that you WILLINGLY do is wrong. What a cop out. I could sit here and say “I did this because you made me feel….” Or a teenager could say “I stole the car because you wouldn’t take me to the movies with my boyfriend.” And I guess at the end of the day holding someone else responsible for our actions does make accepting our actions much easier, but it’s so unfair to the person you’re trying to blame. You didn’t have to steal the car because I wouldn’t let you go to the movies alone with your boyfriend. You could have easily sat me down and given me a list of reasons why you should be allowed to go. You could have accepted the fact that it wasn’t going to happen this time, but maybe next time. Heck, you could’ve just walked to the dang theater. But the path you chose to take was the one that involved stealing, deceit, law breaking, risking lives, and wasting the cop’s time when I called 911 because my kid and my car were gone. Teenagers are going through growing pains and figuring out right and wrong and trying to get what they want out of life. It’s their time to be selfish and not give a crap about anything other than themselves. But a grown ass man? And to hear the preacher stand on stage and say…out loud…that wives need to meet their mans intimate needs and nurture their marriage in order to keep him faithful is complete bologna to me. And then to tell the story of David who cheated and had illegitimate babies and ordered the death of a husband so that he could have the wife. And then in the same breath talk about what a great man he was and how God will forgive any transgression. WTH? It confuses me as to why we try and live a good, moral life if in the end we can ask for forgiveness and then jet right up to Heaven. I want to believe in the idea of Heaven so badly. I want to feel secure in the knowledge that my Ethan is in Heaven with God watching over me. I want to believe that he heard my prayer today while I sat in that pew. But at the same time I really don’t understand it. And before I go any further, let me clarify that I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO TRY AND EXPLAIN THIS TO ME. YOU HAVE YOUR BELIEFS AND I HAVE MINE. I’M NOT KNOCKING RELIGION. AT ALL. I JUST HAVE SOME CONFUSION WITH IT. YOU CAN DISAGREE WITH ME AND HATE ME OR WHATEVER. KEEP IT TO YOURSELF AND STOP READING MY BLOGS. THAT’S OK.  Now, moving on. Gays aren’t allowed to get married in the state of Texas for a long list of reasons. It destroys the sanctity of marriage. It doesn’t promote the growth of the human existence. Homosexuality is a sin. But ho are the people here to judge if I can sleep with all the girls I want to while I’m alive, but ask for forgiveness on my deathbed? If God forgives me for that, why should people…sinners…on earth be allowed to pass that judgment on me? I can promise you this. My ability to commit and love is just as good as, if not stronger than, and heterosexuals. So isn’t it sort of hypocritical for fellow sinners to judge my sin as worse than theirs? Does this make sense? This is why I typically don’t go to church. I think that a lot of the beliefs that are preached are pure hypocrisy. And a hypocrite with a Bible in hand is no better than the hypocrite who sleeps in on a Sunday. Whew. I feel better having typed that. Even if it only makes sense to me.

So, now I turn on What Would Ryan Lochte Do. This sinner is going to enjoy my life on earth while it’s given to me. And Ryan Lochte’s ignorance makes my heart smile.

The end.