Not in a Gay Bar

Last friday night SML took me a dive-bar called the The Republican to celebrate a friend’s birthday. The Republican is a mixture of an irish pub and a toilet bowl, filled with cigarette smoke and burley men competing in shuffleboard. SML’s glasses became foggy when we entered the bar, drawing attention to our collared sweaters and SML’s neatly ironed dress pants. After SML had properly wiped his glasses he approached the host and said, “Two Please.”

“La Esti-Nice”

I cannot pronounce the name of my new favorite cafe, so I call it “La Esti-Nice”, a version of the name I think is awfully close to the real thing. La Esti-Nice has some seriously good Green Tea that reminds me of my past life as a Japanese Woman. Due to a lack of customers, La Esti-Nice started closing early this week leaving the staff bewildered by the sudden absence of patrons. I felt bewildered too, because the lack of patrons suddenly equated an increase of loitering homeless people. Wait, maybe it’s the other way around?

Fight Club

Riding home on the train Wednesday night, a group of twenty-somethings began egging each other on, demanding a resolution that involved a beating of some kind. I moved to the end of the train, feeling excited about the possibility of a live fight and worried that my stop might approach before the sight of blood. At 600 East the fight dissipated with one party exiting the train, leaving me frustrated and considering the Sandy Station for future brawl spectacles.

Benjamin Barker

On friday night, I went to see the movie Sweeny Todd with SML. I was excited to see this movie since I saw the first preview displaying London in shades of blue, grey, black and white. Depending on your tolerance of blood and Johnny Depp, this movie will unseat the Rocky Horror Picture Show as your favorite movie of all time. Now someone’s going to tell me I’m the only person that likes Sweet Transvestites from Transylvania.

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