Christmas is coming, Are you prepared?

You will have to excuse my recent rant of sadness. Sometimes I get really sad - that was just a rough day at the end of a rough week in what could only be called a rough season.

I am not so sad anymore, I am not crying as much - which is good. Cuz I am so the anti-crying type person.

Things have been good in the last few days. I have been out shopping, wrapping gifts, making plans for the holidays. Keeping busy is always the key.

I worked the door for my roommate and his business partner for a night at a club. It was pretty interesting...
Since some stupid poster gurl didn't show - there was no advertisement. This is a problem as the club is out of the general area - and is relatively new. People just don't know to come way down Church street on a Sunday night. They have to be led by the hand.

It was looking pretty bleak - at 11 pm we got out 2nd customer. Terrified the boys looked in their DJ booth. Sad too. Which is just too bad - cuz seriously, they are awesome at getting the party started.

Then things changed. A friend of the boys showed up... He is this cute little Madonna Lover who is some sort of curator for a art gallery down on Queen street. This boy is fabulous in the gayest sense. He knows everyone in town, he is the life of the party, and he is brilliant at everything he does. He has the Midas touch.

It turns out he was at some fancy holiday party at Carlu. Carlu is this super high end establishment. It is made for the nouveau riche, and the old money. I have never stepped inside the doors, and will most likely never find the opportunity. This is the place Donald Trump would go when he comes to town.
So our little galleryboy talked up all the people at Carlu who were looking for a jumping party. Scotch and scallops is alright for a schmoozfest... But sometimes a gay power man just wants to dance and drink and see cute boys....
So - within about 20- 25 minutes... 35 men climbed into the place. And somehow, other people not associated with the crew also showed up... It was a party.

It was nice to see everyone having a good time. I even had my own moment.

I went out to have a smoke and sat on the bench of the neighbouring Irish pub. Some guy comes pouring out of the pub and lights a smoke and just starts talking to me. I quickly realize he is a little wasted. It is ok though, as he is funny and kinda cute. We get into some conversation about small towns, it seems he is from one too.
I am entertained by him and he makes me laugh, but I have to get back to my station as "spickett" is manning my door and I feel guilting taking up her time. So I say goodnight and disappear.

I get back to the door and like 2 minutes later, he is there talking to me. He came upstairs to ask my name and tell me that I am sexy. I was smitten immediately of course.
Anyways, he left, and didn't ask me for a phone number - and this made me a little confused. He comes up, just to introduce himself and find out my name, tells me that he thinks I am hot, and leaves.

My friend the Jerk claims that he probably chickened out and that was it. How can that be- when the hardest part would have been to come up?

Regardless - I don't work that door again for 5 -6 weeks. And, will he be drinking again on a Sunday night? He seemed to be a bit of a regular... I guess if fate will have it... it will be so.

Only 6 more shopping days folks...