5:54 p.m. - July 28, 2001
Friday Fiasco
Last night was quite an adventure. Not altogether fun, but an adventure.
I went to meet some friends at South Beach. A gay club. I asked Walter to drop me off, so I wouldn't have to worry about parking - or drinking & driving. And my husband would never go to a gay club. South Beach is a mere 7 miles or so from our home. I was planning to hook up with my group, hang out & dance with them, and catch a ride home with them. We were supposed to meet between 10 - 10:15PM. I showed up at 10, ordered a drink, and waited.
Does anyone know what it feels like...for a girl? What is feels like for a girl (who looks feminine, not BUTCH), sitting alone in a gay club? The gay boys don't like to sit next to you or talk to you. I had two empty chairs next to me, at the bar. A guy named Richard sat down next to me, and we chatted. He was waiting for his friends to show up. After about 10 minutes, they showed up and I heard one of them say, "Just tell her it was nice talking to her, and walk off."
Oh my god.
Richard turned to me and said, "Honey, it's not you. You're a woman. You have a Uterus."
Oh my god.
So...I was alone again. I walked around and finished my drink. It was cold in the club and I didn't feel much like dancing. So, I walked outside, to thaw.
At 11PM (after waiting an hour), I closed out my tab and left.
I walked to the Mausoleum. When I got there, I was relieved to hear good music playing. A band was playing "Break on Through" and it sounded like Jim Morrison. I paid another cover charge - this one was only $5, as opposed to the $7 I just paid at the last place. I listened to the band for awhile. There was a young and very beautiful girl on stage, singing. She looked a little like a young Annie Lennox. She was definitely worth staying for.
After awhile, I had had enough. I sat outside for awhile and people-watched. At 11:40Pm, I decided that I needed to figure out what I was going to do about getting home at some point. I decided I would head home. Walter had to work in the morning, at 7AM. I figured that it wouldn't be a huge deal for him to come get me. It was so loud in the Mausoleum. Too loud to be making calls. I called Walter from a payphone next door. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Then went to voicemail. I left a desperate message, asking him to wake up and come get me. Then, I called back agin. I figured he would hear the phone ringing again - and determine that it was important enough to wake up and answer. The second time, Walter answered. He grumbled and I told him that I was stranded. He said, "I'm asleep. What do you want me to do?" So, I said, "I'm alone and I'm stranded and I want you to come get me."
And do you know what he said?
He said, "Go back inside and find someone to call you a cab."
Oh my god.
I slammed the phone down.
I was so pissed. I was FLAMING MAD. And I was hurt. I started to cry...and I started to walk. I walked some two miles, pissed. Then I hailed a cab and rode the rest of the way home. Needless to say, I'm taking some space from him right now. I'm cat-sitting for a friend. I know it doesn't take 3 1/2 hours to feed a cat, but I'm enjoying the space...and the time away. I played on the internet for awhile, including writing this journal. I exchanged some IM's with a 29 year old Oncologist. Interesting. Tried to convince a certain person to come hang out with me, but was unsuccessful. :( No worries.
