it's been a long couple of weeks with school, holidays, and rent. what follows is a general recap of the 6 month stint that is this job...i started the blog a little late.

it was my second ever shift at one particular night club. still very nervous. i'm still not really used to talking to any of the patrons at this point, and if i don't completely fumble over human interaction i'd treat it as a plus. i still was quite scared of homophobia at the time; worried that i'd give off a gay vibe.

one particular customer struts on in.

'how's it going, sir?'

he doesn't respond, he just looks at me with somewhere between puzzled and very discontent.

'shit, that was weird, hope i didnt give him any strange vibe. wait it out, it will come naturally soon enough,' i think to myself.

as he walks through the threshold to the stalls, a strange smell crawls up my nose, like a cresendo of crickets that start to sing at dusk.

UGH YOU FARTED! and the whole time i was blaming that awkwardness on myself. i knew his half eyebrow raise wasn't on purpose.

more recently, i saw a patron who reminded me of Phillip Seymour Hoffman. maybe i see it more because i'm looking for it, but telling patrons that they remind you of famous people is always good. i happen to like hoffman--he's a total qt--but with this guy i kind of struggled.

'who's that?' he asked.

'he's in the big lebowski' i say, then i think, he's alos in capote--shit don't tell a guy he reminds you of a gay character, he's in boogie nights, fuck!, ummm, 'oh yeah, i say, 'he's the rock journalist in almost famous, too...umm he's the reporter in red dragon...'

'i don't know who that is,' he says, 'i've seen big lebowski though.'

'he's the assistant to the big lebowski...her life is in your hands dude, ya know?'

oh that guy? c'mon, man, i was thinkin brad pitt.

'haha, dude it's totally a compliment, PSH rules! and you really look nothing like brad pitt, dude'

'oh it's like that?'

'it is what it is...'

after i sold out my first batch of condoms, i never bought them again. from getting them stolen by my friends, to just never really selling them i figured it wasn't worth it. plus EVERYONE always said, 'get magnums. if you had those i'd get three!'

apparently everyone has a big dick. a few weeks ago i figured, hey, put up or shut up. i was gonna get magnums and regulars, but a [lady] friend of mine says, 'c'mon given magnums or regulars every guy is gonna choose magnums. plus, who is gonna not take a condom because their dick isn't big enough. no one is gonna admit that to you.'

i agreed.

boy was i wrong.

'haha, man' a patron begins, lookin at the condoms, 'i'm not even gonna lie. i can't use that.'

'heh, i figured everyone would be all about it. so many people talk about their super dick you know'

'yeah, all talk' he says. 'only 8% of the dick having population needs magnums. i'm perfectly okay with being in the other 92%.'

'well, hopefully some of them are here tonight. or at least they have magnum egos.'

'also, i'm not washing my hands.'

'alright, your choice, you gross bastard.'

'haha,' he laughs, then extends his hand for a shake.'

'nah you didn't wash.' i put out my elbow, and he responds in kind.

'elbows are handshakes with condoms' i say.

'haha, have a good night, dude'

'you too, man'



a few patrons walk in together.

'oh shit, lemmie get a magnum.'

'two bucks.'

'two bucks?! thasa pack! now lemmie ask you a question. are you fuckin with these?'

i throw up a finger.

'c'mon son, you don't need these, hook me up.'

'sorry man, two bucks or nothin'

two muscle head patrons walk in together. they approach me intensely.

'you dude,' one says, lifting up his sleve, 'who's bigger?' he flexes his bicep.

i, grinning, turn to his friend and await his muscly display.

he lifts up his sleeve and flexes as well. i turn back to his friend, who once again 'struts' his bicep into my face. i turn back to his friend, he does the same.

'hmmm,' i say, drawing up anticpation, 'which one is bigger? define bigger? bigger is better right?'

'oh yeah,' they both say, 'bigger is definately better.'

'well, i'll be honest. yours is longer, and yours is thicker. it's so hard to choose.'

'you gotta choose!' he says, flexing hard.

'hmm, longer or thicker. i guess it depends how you like it. show me again.'

they raise their sleeves and flex extra intensely this time. i'm the judge of a bathroom body building contest. i drag slowly on a black and mild....

'hmm, longer or thicker...long's got nice tone, but i guess i'm gonna pick thicker. it's got a little more umph, and is a little tan, and i like that.'

'yessss!' he says victoriously.

i shake my head and sip on my gin and tonic.

after they leave another guy walks out of the stall.

'ya' see? this is totally okay, cause you weren't talking about their dicks. arms are totally understandable.'

'haha, yes i was. i mean, their arms are their cocks. at that point. are we splitting hairs?'