Extreme Lows, Jesus Christ Superstar Highs, and then Back Down to Reality
This past weekend begin with some lows, went up to highs, and then back down to reality. It was as if I was starring in my own weekend movie. Perhaps you can pick the title of my movie.
On Saturday morning, I was pretty much told I am not a nice person. The exact quote was, "May I ask what you do for a profession? Surely you are not a rodeo clown entertaining children?" OUCH! This was after an intense doubles match against a gay rival. There was plenty trash talking, smirking, and attitude. Since Whipping Boy and I lost the match, we left the courts with a bitter taste in our mouths.
When I got back home, I realized that I needed to find something to do. My other half was in Florida with his straight friends. I knew I would only sparingly hear from him the entire weekend. He did try his best to find me stuff to do around the house, but I'll be damned if I was staying home! That would have been like a death sentence to me. I always have to be doing something with someone or I am not happy.
I was hellbent and determined to spend time with friends that I hadn't seen in a long time. These are friends that drink excessively. To me, heavy alcohol consumption is NOT attractive. I personally view it as a horrible liability to my tennis game. That's why I have been scarcely seen in the New Orleans bars.
So, I put aside my alcohol judgements and made appearances out at the various venues in New Orleans. At the Country Club, you would have thought I was a porn star by the way the locals treated me. Since I am not a good swimmer, the bears kindly served as flotation devices. There was so much hospitality that afternoon!
In the bars, I was back to being FRESH MEAT. Yeah.... at 38 years old... who would have thunk it? I swear it felt like I was Jesus Christ Superstar with all the attention I got. They had missed their hot-headed-tennis-racquet-swinging Cajun. It felt so good to feel the love again. I had so much slobber in fact, that I had to wash my face when I got home. Good times!
I was still basking in the glow of my wonderful weekend this morning as I fed the chickens. When I bent over to pick the eggs, I felt sharp pains in the back of my leg. Ugh. My rooster Rocky was attacking me. Some things never change. I was back down to reality.
On Saturday morning, I was pretty much told I am not a nice person. The exact quote was, "May I ask what you do for a profession? Surely you are not a rodeo clown entertaining children?" OUCH! This was after an intense doubles match against a gay rival. There was plenty trash talking, smirking, and attitude. Since Whipping Boy and I lost the match, we left the courts with a bitter taste in our mouths.
When I got back home, I realized that I needed to find something to do. My other half was in Florida with his straight friends. I knew I would only sparingly hear from him the entire weekend. He did try his best to find me stuff to do around the house, but I'll be damned if I was staying home! That would have been like a death sentence to me. I always have to be doing something with someone or I am not happy.
I was hellbent and determined to spend time with friends that I hadn't seen in a long time. These are friends that drink excessively. To me, heavy alcohol consumption is NOT attractive. I personally view it as a horrible liability to my tennis game. That's why I have been scarcely seen in the New Orleans bars.
So, I put aside my alcohol judgements and made appearances out at the various venues in New Orleans. At the Country Club, you would have thought I was a porn star by the way the locals treated me. Since I am not a good swimmer, the bears kindly served as flotation devices. There was so much hospitality that afternoon!
In the bars, I was back to being FRESH MEAT. Yeah.... at 38 years old... who would have thunk it? I swear it felt like I was Jesus Christ Superstar with all the attention I got. They had missed their hot-headed-tennis-racquet-swinging Cajun. It felt so good to feel the love again. I had so much slobber in fact, that I had to wash my face when I got home. Good times!
I was still basking in the glow of my wonderful weekend this morning as I fed the chickens. When I bent over to pick the eggs, I felt sharp pains in the back of my leg. Ugh. My rooster Rocky was attacking me. Some things never change. I was back down to reality.
posted by Brettcajun at Monday, August 04, 2008
4 Comments:
Good memories from Country Club. I must ask though...were you skinny dipping? ;-)
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, this statement from your post was pretty revealing:
"I always have to be doing something with someone or I am not happy."
Unwittingly you've hit on the root of most of your problems in life, Brett - if you're not happy with yourself, by yourself, why are you surprised when others aren't either?
What's going to happen when you can't play the "new meat" card, no matter how long you go between bar appearances? When even moderate tennis players are able to eat your lunch on the court because you just don't have the mobility you have now (or, more likely, had a few years back)?
You're the big Madonna fan. What is it about "Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another" that doesn't register? As long as you rely on other people to be happy, you're their prisoner.
Glad to hear you were nto going to stay at home. Everyone needs time with their firrends as well. Fresh neat, must have made you feel good to know other thinkyou are Hot as well. Sorry about your cock trying to attack you from behind..lol
Ray
Well, look at it this way. Clowns are effing scary.
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