Well, Doc, I ended up on a gay bar last night and I actually knew where I was headed. Is that weird? I feel like it is. My new friend, well, I think he is my friend. Maybe not. Probably not. But he is nice and I shall call him friend. Okay. My new friend apparently knew it was a gay bar and he literally bursted out laughing when I told him we should go. He is actually really nice. My new friend, I mean. He is sorta cute and, from what he looks like, he seems of asian descent. Not straight descent, though. Maybe his grandfather was asian. I don't know. He is also cute. But I swear to God I am not trying to get into his pants. I swear. But he is still cute.
While we were talking about the gay bar, I think the name was The Thompson Arms - I have this theory you might know about it because, Dr. Callaghan, you seem very gay to me and a fan of 1980's music. I hope this does not offend you but it's true and we both know I can't lie. Please don't send me to a loony bin or to jail - my probation worker walked in on us and it was awful. I am even going to have to write exaclty what was said because I found it tremendously funny.
"You'll have to go to find out the answer," he says, grinning as I tried to hit him and failed. Because I fail a lot lately, Doc.
"I don't want to be scarred for life!" I said and he laughed. He is nice. He laughs at what I say. No one has ever done that so far.
"It's not that frightening. Just a lot of howling and thrusting and 80s music," he said, stating the obvious. I doubted whether the "It's not that frightening" was sarcastic or not but, either way, that's when Wyatt interrupted our oh so funny conversation. He actually saved me from seeming like a bimbo in front of my friend. I am sorry Doc, I am not going to give out names because I don't want anyone to get into trouble even if they already got into trouble themselves and ended up in community service.
"Brilliant. What on bloody earth are you two talking about?" Ugh. Wyatt. I hate him, Doc. Could you call the Community Center and tell someone Wyatt is causing me brain damage? He is irritating me a lot lately and the other day he almost slapped me. I was so scared. He dragged me all the way to his office and started yelling at me for just sitting there and not feeling well enough to move. I like the other probation worker a lot more even though I don't know her name. She is super pretty. SUPER.
"My brother used to write fanfiction and I'm trying to convince Calixta to read it," he replied. Can you believe that's the first thing my friend came up with? I tried really hard not to laugh because telling me about his brother's fanfiction is the most unlike thing he could have ever told me. I wonder if his brother actually does write fanfiction. Wyatt later proceeded to order us to clean the basement and ruin our life.
Not too late after, we were all headed to The Gay Bar. That's what I'm going to call it because it's a better name than The Thompson Arms. Or whatever it is it was called. PLEASE tell me you know this bar. Really. I could so picture you dancing on top of a table and singing to a Poison song. A really bad yet catchy Posion song. I have found myself singing those while in the shower a couple of times. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Doc.
Anyway, when I arrived, I spotted my friend but he was too busy spacing out or just staring into nothing. Then I saw this girl, who I call Leddie because her name is almost 100% related to Led Zeppelin but she doesn't know this because we only talked one, talking to this really cute guy who also goes to community service but kind of seems to be a douchebag. Actually, scratch that. I think he pretends to be one because he actually has a really sweet face and I could picture him studying a smart subject and caring about those he loves dearly. Maybe I am wrong. But I'm usually not.
I walked around the bar a lot and saw lots of different specimens. Very gay men, 50% gay men aka bisexual men, gay girls - have I ever told you about that one time I hooked up with a girl and it was really fun but I barely remember anything of it because I was really high and almost super drunk? Probably not but now you know, I probably should have skipped the high and drunk part. It's good that I don't do daily sessions and you just read my online journal. Yup. I am glad I threw the actual journal away and told you to find me a platform in which I could write in - bisexual girls, straight girls and they all looked terribly shit faced.
The drinks were really cheap so that was probably it. Bad liquor, bad drunk. That's what I have always said, to be honest. The only highlight of my night was helping this poor boy who was being punched by another guy that was hundred times bigger than him. He was almost as skinny as me and it made me feel really bad for him so I just stepped in and stopped the big dude. I called him a douchebag and he seemed surprised I called him that. I also have the feeling these brit lads are not used to american people being around. Most of them have stared at me a few times because I don't say "bloody" a lot and because I don't talk as if I had a potato stuck in my mouth. You do that too, Doc. You talk as if you had a potato in your mouth. All you brits do it. But it's funny and kinda cute on cute guys. The guy I happened to save was really cute too. I have the feeling he wasn't enjoying himself while I was talking to him but I was talking too much because I was a little drunk. I swear I only had two drinks, okay? But I haven't drunk since I was arrested and taken to hospital and blah.
Anyway, I called this guy a massive asshole as well and he seemedto be really pissed. I know he wasn't going to hit a girl so butting in was not a problem. The cute guy was bleeding all over the place. The big guy was punching him with such passion that I came up with the following a. big guy's boyfriend was hitting on cute guy, b. big guy knew cute guy from some place else and hated his guts or c. cute guy was an ass to him and deserved it but he seemed to be just a little tragic human being so I decided against letter c. I remember helping cute guy up and asking him "what's your name, dude?" in case I had to pretend he was my brother or my cousin or my boyfriend or my father. I introduced myself as well and we shook hands. His were a little sweaty and bloody but that's fine.
Hell, when I was brought into hospital I was covered in blood from head to toes and I did that to myself.
Cute little guy and I talked for a while. He recognised me from community service but I didn't because I hadn't seen him before at all. He said he owed me so I told him to buy me a drink but he didn't buy me anything. I don't know why. I just wanted Bourbon and the bartender cut me off because he said I was talking too much and I was being a pain in the arse. So I left and saved this little guy. I keep saying little guy because he is so bony but also very cute. This is what I was talking about. His potato actually gave him a nice and enjoyable accent. Anyway, he said he hides from Wyatt most of the time and said he was not a stalker, that he had barely seen me but happened to recognise me. I like being recognised. I don't feel like such a plain human although I am. I asked him what he does when he is not in community service which, basically, takes up most of our current life, thank you very much, and he only said he was taking a sabbatical year. I got scared I was talking too much to him and making him uncomfortable, which I was, so I just said a very lame and very boring phrase aka "keep it up, boy!" gave him a kiss on the cheek in hopes his wounds would heal and just left.
And by left I mean I went home. To my boring flat. And I just read Tolstoi until I decided it was time to write to you. But this is boring me too. I said last night mostly ebcause it's almost 6 am now. And I should probably get dressed and go somewhere or go to the community center but I don't want to go there anymore.
