I am up very early in the morning, and I don't want to. I did not stay up. I was so tired from not napping in the afternoon (alumni club and fantasy league duties) and going to the State Fair in the evening that I listened to my body instead of my dick.
See, I called a strip club to see how long they would be open. They said 3. After coming home from My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) I went home when it was pouring rain out. I was tired but bored, and I figured that if I just nap for a little bit, till about 1 or so, I could get up and make a night of it. After all, it's Labor Day Eve.
So I go to my bed and see where my body takes me. The storm outside makes for an effective sleep-inducer, and I closed my eyes listening to the rain-delayed Cleveland-Kansas City baseball game on SiriusXM through my smartphone. I got up, once, at 12:30. That would have been a perfect time to get out of my bed, put on my new porno pants, and hit the town, hanging out with my wang out. Sure it was raining, but that means less people, less guys that could potentially see my cock.
But I made the fateful choice of crawling back in to bed and giving myself till 1. I was tired. And, you know, it's raining out. And I closed my eyes, only to wake up at 4, just an hour after that strip bar closed. And now I can't go back to sleep.
I should not be getting up this early in the morning. I should be getting into bed right about now. Then I can sleep through the sunrise, have a leisurely wake-up time in the afternoon, go the fair one more time and relax. Now I regret seeing the dawn. Now I am alone in my thoughts, and my fears of going back to work to face that asshole and what he is going to say or do.
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I love the State Fair for the people watching. The great new transit hub, created when they knocked down Heritage Square and polished off the old arch to make for a grand new entrance, sets up a new way for me to see my favorite scene of the year. The center of the fairgrounds is lower in grade than everywhere else. So when you went through the old entrance or now the new, you can see the street lower, and that allows you to see a sea of humanity, pretty much the entire state of Minnesota, walking through the fair. An agoraphobe would immediately run the other way, but for me and a few others Sunday afternoon we took some pictures. This is what doing the most Minnesotan thing possible looks like, and it's glorious.
I was able to poke and skeeter my way through the throng to do the Minnesota Historical Society tour, get my prize for punching all the signs around the grounds and reward myself with Sweet Martha's Cookies and all-you-can-drink milk. I sat down on the sidewalk to eat my milk and cookies, and to watch the families and couple stroll by, and I talked to two girls who sat beside me for a little bit. That was nice.
On my way back to the bus I stopped by to see this new ABC show, Cristela, on the KSTP barn. I didn't know it at the time, but the people watching the show were taking a survey on it, after which they would receive a battery-powered fan. I think the comedy's broad (as indicated by a laugh track) but I liked it enough to give my feet a rest and watch.
It was interrupted by a guy, sitting alone there, like me. He started our conversation when a girl moved off of the bleachers after seeing a bee. Then he talked about being a hand for KSTP and working at the barn we were sitting in. He seemed to be one of those lonely over-sharers, someone I could be when I grow old. But then he started complaining about the girls overseeing the survey not being dressed properly. And then he started saying "fuck" a lot. Oh, he's one of these weird loners ... someone I could also be when I grow old.
Nevertheless I stayed. For one thing my feet were tired, for another it's the Fair, and I'll never see this guy again, so who cares? He then got into the reason he was at the Fair by himself: He got into this car accident with a roommate who said that he was driving. Although he admitted he had fallen off the wagon again (later in our conversation I could smell his breath) he was furious at this guy and was debating on what to do get him thrown out of his house before he got thrown out. He didn't want to come in and deal with the situation, he said, so he's out here, to enjoy and to forget.
I relayed his plight to mine at work: I too wanted to have a good time at the State Fair, but I dreaded going to work Tuesday and facing that guy. I relayed the story to him, and like him he thought he overreacted: "You just asked one question!" he said, exasperatingly. "I know!" I replied, "I wanted one answer and I wasn't going to bother him again!" I shook my head.
Then, this guy, this drunkard who said that he lost everything (his job and family) to the bottle many years ago and has not gotten either back, grabbed my shoulder a couple times. And that felt so good. I don't know if this guy would be someone I could hang out with. There's a possibility he would flip out on me over drinks and kill me. But at that particular moment, we sympathized with each other. We needed a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on in the middle of hopeless situations, and we found it in each other. I felt a connection with a guy who felt like he listened to me, and I think the feeling was mutual. Sometimes it's easier, and a lot more rewarding, when you seredipitously find support and the strength to carry on from a stranger at The Great Minnesota Get-Together.
He said his goodbyes and I was off. We ended as perfectly as a State Fair conversation could.
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At My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) I hit the last hour of one shift and the first of the next. I had nowhere to go and nothing to do, so I stayed for over an hour, something I rarely do here, even though this is my favorite. Stuck around to see someone I had not seen in a long time, someone I am facebook friends with but thought to have left The Life.
Otherwise it was a slow night. Sometimes I think stripclubs would be packed on holidays, but like My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version) Saturday night, turns out people want to spend their long weekends with their friends, not nude women. So there was an emptiness in the bar, and that allowed my melancholy about what I have to face in 24 hours' time to depress me.
*****a, a girl who's trying to set up a party so she can see my penis (at least that's what she said to me) was working the late shift. She said hi and how was I doing, and I couldn't help but tell her it was a rough week. After she went around the bar saying hi, she came up to me seated at a table. Without saying a word she put her arm around my back. Then, I put my head on her shoulder. And we were just like that for a good, oh, 20 seconds. I just felt so safe with her holding me like that. I didn't want that to end. And if I ever get any one-on-one time with her, part of me would eschew getting a handjob or blowjob or rimjob. I wouldn't mind just lying in bed with her, cuddling, protecting me from the wolves outside my door and the demons inside my head.
But it had to end because she had to change into her costume, and I left in a downpour soon after.
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You know, it's a bit after 7. This is usually when I wake up to go to work. This is reminding me of work, goddammit, this sucks. Since this is vacation time, I should be asleep. Yet another reason I should have gone to that stripclub late at night and stayed up. I just can't even deal.
I should go to bed to escape the break of dawn.
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