God has a hard-on for Marines

i worked the Saturday following Veteran's Day. i walked in a little early, laundry hamper on my back, into a celebration of the 235th birthday of the Marine Corps. it was very quiet. twenty or so men circled another, who spoke to them in a firm, loud voice. when his sentences were over, they responded in kind. HUAH! i stood there in a kind of awe, my mind fluttering around, some how reminded of being at an intimate catholic mass when the door man broke the Corps's spell.

"You'd better go around."

"Huh? Oh, right...yeah, looks like it."

as i exited i couldn't help but notice three of the bouncers were Marines. crazy.

the first two people who come in are Marines. they are pissing side by side.

"Whatcha packin there?" One asks.

The other shakes his head.

"Nothing too great, huh?"

"Hey man, you're the one in the kiddie urinal," he finally responds.

"Ha," he scoffs, "yeah this is bullshit i get mad back splash. How am i supposed to do this?" He asks, turning to me.

"You gotta squat!" I say.

He squats. "Oh yeah, there it is!"

"I've never seen black stalls before," other says, "perfect for my black cock." [he's white]

"Soooo," I begin, "what's up with that assembly and all these Marines? Everyone here is a Marine?"

"Yeah," a Marine says, "we're celebrating our anniversary. we do it every year. the Marines started in a bar, y'know."

"I did not know that."

"Well..." *shrug*

"So is this like people from all over, or did you serve with most of these guys, or what?"

"Nah, these are people from everywhere. None of my buddies are here. Some of them are gone, some haven't come back yet."

"I'm sor--"

"Nah," he cuts me off, "all these guys are my brothers!"

Another Marine walks up.

"What's this devil dog tellin you? Some craziness?"

"Just informin' me about the core," I say. "What's a devil dog?"

"German forces called us that in WWI," he says, "cause we fought so ferociously."

"So, it's a good term, then." I say.

"Yeah, it's a respect thing."

"Can it be used as an insult? Like if I called you a devil dog it would be not cool, yeah?"

"Nah, nah, it would be fine. Now that you know, what it is, you'd have to say it out of respect so it is all good."

"Cool," i say.


I think one of the best things about this job is that it has changed the way i think about the military and those who serve in it. Hanging out with a lot of the leftist people, i never really interacted with anyone in the military. I've taken part in some protests that demonized people who've served in the process of condemning war. Justification or not aside, people in the military have always treated me, a lowly bathroom guy, with the most respect of any patrons.

*shrug*

search your feelings, you know it to be true.

i got a new laundry hamper. now i roll up on my bike, two hampers, a back pack full of stoges, new flask in the pocket. medium pimpin, baby.

another guy tried to talk me into selling drugs in the b-room.

"whatuya make in here? twenty bucks? that's shit. imagine if you had some yay"

"sir, i don't know nothing about that."

"aw c'mon, you give stoges for tips, what about a lil bud?"

"nah, i'm alright."

his buddy walks up, and backs him up.

"yeah baby, you should move some o dat powdah. i did last night." he proceeds to put his hand out as if on the back of some bent over hottie, "and made," *humps his arm pallus* "six hundred dolllaaasss"

this tall man walks in. "alo," he says in a strong french accent.

as i hand him a towel, he begins, "there is nothing like this in france. i don't know it is very interesting."

"yeah, a lot of my friends told me this job seemed like it was out of some 80's miami vice or something."

"yes,"he says--seeming to me, a little confused--"the clubs in france it just would not work. do you have gum?"

"yeah, sure."

i hand him a piece, and he gives me five dollars.

"wow, thank you sir, how much do you want back?"

"no, no, no, no. this, for you"

"thanks a lot, lemmie know if you need anything else."

as he opens the door to leave he turns around and says "may zeh force be wizzu"

i respond with a live long and prosper.

"exactly," he says smiling.

later, when encountering another frenchmen, i ask if they are there together. he says yes and informs me via sick videos on his iphone they are on a team of skydivers who are touring the US for competitions. you can visit their website, Reflex Parachutisme.

remember, if you tip, i'll plug ya ;)

congratulations, you have a huuuge dick.

man oh man. people at clubs have hearts! you don't know how many times i've heard "i feel so bad, i have no money...you're the man though." it really gets to people when they can't tip me. life must be so hard for their broke asses, buying 4 dollar miller lites, 50 dollar half bottles of vodka, and 20 dollar hookahs. those broke ass chumps! it's okay, though. there's always a silver lining. like on my last shift, i washed all my towels way early, made sure i was ready for my shift on time and everything. i open up my bag after i've set up the table...i forgot to get new supplies. fuck. i have less than half of three packs of cigs, no condoms, no gum, and no cigars. alright. i look in my wallet: cardinal sin, i forgot change.

too many times tonight i can't make change for a 10 or 20 and lose at least two bucks each time. the big boner patron from the first post comes through, however. every time someone washes their hands he says in his argentinian accent, "tip this man! he has four children!" as the night progresses, i've more children than i have fingers and have three sick dogs. thanks, guy.

i got a hug on this shift. a somewhat rare, yet no out the ordinary occurance, most of the time i get hugs from cute guys. this one was no exception. minus the trucker hat he was quite the looker. somewhere between jeff buckley and paul j. alessi (the actor who contracts HIV in TLC's 'waterfalls'). maybe jeff buckely is pushin it, but hey i was drunk.

to end the night, this guy stumbles on in with a half full bottle of bubble gum vodka. as he pisses, he raises it violently screaming "my girlfriend just told me i have a big penis!"

no response...

he turns around. we make eye contact. "my girlfriend just told me i have a big penis!!!"

"congratulations, man. i'll drink to that!" i finish my rum and coke and he takes a shot.

"hell yeah dude," he says, "take a shot of this."

i drink the lukewarm bubblegum vodka. it goes down like some kind of reverse acid reflux cotton candy face fuck. "uggggh..."

"aw c'mon man, take another," he pushes.

"alright man, to your dick!"

*glug glug fucking glug*

the ladies love it!

when guys don't wash their hands, they always talk about it.

the most common explanations are:

my dick['s] clean

my mom taught me not to piss on my hands

i have no money

whateverrr i'm drrrruuunk

but i got me's a special one last night.

"nah, dude i'm good. i got piss all over my hands though!"

"and you don't wanna wash?

"naaaaah, the ladies love my piss fingers, baby. i can get like three of em suckin my hands off. they can't get enough of piss fingers ;)"

these two other guys were pissing next to each other, one putting his hand on the partition so he can stay standing up.

the one who needs no assistance begins conversation:

"yo, you alright? look like you about to fall over."

"what? i'm good, i'm chillin."

"well then why are you holding yourself up on the wall? you sure you're alright?"

he then proceeds to put his hands being his head as if he's about to receive oral, dawg "oh yeah, i'm chillin"

"what is that?" the other guy responds, "you don't need your hands?"

"nah, dude, i just let it hang."

"shit, i gotta hold it, i'll probably piss on myself otherwise. how big is yours anyway?"

he laughs, shakes his head, and doesn't answer.

dick asking guy (DAG), then comes up to the counter. i offer him soap and a towel.

"man, some people," he laments with a dissapointed tone, "sometimes i just like to come in here and talk. some people could talk enough to write a book, some don't say enough."

i guess not getting a dick size is really getting to him. he continues...

"you know there was a fight earlier?"

"no shit," i say.

"yeah man, you gotta have a good time, cause if you ain't, then you're having a bad time."

as he says this he turns and looks at the guy who didn't answer. apparently his silence is really making DAG have a bad time.

he finally responds: "haha, man, you're a short story at best. i'm an epic novel."

i never thought that would be a metaphor for dick size.

the more you know ~~~~^***

i can't give you anything but(t) love.

it is kind of strange figuring out when to talk to someone who is urinating. maybe i shouldn't talk to them at all, says the guy who drunkenly, if not aimlessly--thank jebus--launched three darts at my head because "i should know better than to say hey to someone who is trying to piss." a lot of guys though, wait. after unleashed and mid relief, they start lookin around and chat me up. it's an interesting phenomenon. in some bathrooms any view is blocked by a partition, in others depending on an angle i get a glimpse at many a phallus, taking the form of various kinds belts . they could be [knock off] leather, perhaps a guy harvey rhinestone, or even a 'punk rock' belt dick. either way, i must watch my eyes, and my tongue, for a curious wanderer gets little tips ;). a few nights ago, a guy unzipped looked at me and removed his pants, boxers and all, down to his ankles, and as i was 'forced' to look at his bare ass...

"BOOYAH! there's a lil' treat for ya!"

so far though, an all time favorite, was at the end of my [first] night at one particular bar...these two guys walk in arms around one another drunkenly stumblin and singing along to la roux's 'bullet proof'. there's a partition separating two of the stalls, but one guy pays it no mind directly starting over the wall taking his friend in full view. i puff on a cigarette while he begins to lament:

"dude, your dick makes mine look...puny i'm so embarassed"

he begins to respond, "dude..."

i take a puff...

"...don't worry about it man. your'e fine. it's all about confidence."

"thanks, dude, but how can i be confident, pissing next to that"

i laugh a little, and attempt to mask it by quickly inhaling. i cough like i've never smoked.

"aw shit, this bathroom guy thinks we're gay! guy, we're NOT gay."

"hey man, i don't assume anything. i learned early on that i can't really get a square read on anyone. i see so much crazy shit. i wouldn't worry about it."

"but seriously though, we're straight." he turns to his friend, "hahaha, this guy things we're faahhgggs.

"we're totally straight," he assures my while handing me 4 singles.

"i appreciate the tip, but i don't care if you're gay. if you are, i've got shields. take a couple, and do your thing. if you're not, whatever, this kind of shit happens in here every night ;)"