Douchebag alert!

I was originally super excited for my new promotion, but recently the quality of clientele entering my hotel has been - well there is no other way to word it- simply douchey. And with my new position, which requires me to be the manager on duty, I have dealt with more douchebags than I care to deal with. Well, I care to deal with absolutely zero douchebags, but the douchebag to nice person ratio has recently gotten extremely out of control.

A few days ago, I had a particularly super douchey day at work. It started off well, but throughout the night, it just got progressively worse. The first douchebag sighting, or DS if you will, happened during happy hour. A woman wanted to give me her Corporate American Express to pay for a tab, but didn't want to start a tab. She wanted to wait until her friends arrived. I calmly explained to her that I could not pre-authorize a credit card for zero dollars and that I would have to hold on to it if she wanted to start a tab. This is when I got the first pretentious sigh from Queen McBitchy. Then, after attempting to start a tab with me, she proceeds to order drinks from my barback, who gets the order wrong and I don't deliver her high maintenance drinks to her immediately. Now the second sigh rolls upon me. Then she is ready to tab out and I am extremely busy, so I don't cash her out immediately and she comes up to me and says verbatim, "You need to get your shit together." I say absolutely nothing because I am in such shock that someone would have the nerve to talk to another human being like that. Oddly enough, she tipped me 20%. WTF?


That same night comes douchebag number two. I presume he has had a particularly bad day as he drank his Grey Goose Martini like a shot. He drank it so quickly in fact that I thought he had spilled it. I went and made him another martini and although he took slightly longer to drink that one, it still went pretty quick. He then told me that they were in bit of a hurry because they were going to see a show and needed a check. My foolish ass thought I would be nice and mention to him what I have heard about this show he was going to see since we get people in our restaurant who have seen that show all the time. "Just get us the check," he said, as he cut me off mid sentence. 


Later on in the evening, there was douchebag number three. As the acting floor manager, I had to deal with an upset table in the dining room who was concerned about the amount of time it was taking for their 32oz steak to cook. I walked out to his table to get details of why he was upset and see how I could be of help. Instead, this man stands up and tells me if his meal isn't out in the next two minutes, he and his family are walking out. 


New York might be an amazing city, but it's full of douchebags. I keep looking for new opportunities so that on my last day at Hotel Douchebag Central, I can finally have my Julia Sugarbaker moment. I dream of this day when yet another douchebag pisses me off and I go into a five minute speech. Until next time... TGG.

Work part deux!

I just had my three month anniversary at work now and I've gone from brand spanking new bartender, who had to barback to be able to pay his rent, to the new beverage manager. That's right boys and girls, I am in control of all things liquid. Well all things except wine, we have someone else for that. But beer, liquor, soda, coffee, tea, bottled water- those are all my bitches. I'm also in charge of creating the cocktail list and I must say, making myself drinks all day is not a bad way to work the day away. Additionally, I was smart enough to still work off of tips and get a higher hourly wage, so if those fuckers want to work me to the bone, they will be paying me overtime!

It's been a surreal experience so far. I am learning a lot. I'm also learning that once I feel comfortable working in my new position without having to run to my boss for every little question, I'll be looking for this same position at another hotel. Why do you ask? Let me explain. First of all, there are the constant emails I get from our beer distributor and multiple liquor distributors telling me that our invoices are overdue. If I actually paid the invoices, I would be concerned, but we have an accounting staff that for some reason does not understand the concept of 30 days net due. Then there is the clientele. Being in west Chelsea, I was excited that there would be lots of gays visiting, but at our hotel priced cocktails, all we tend to attract are the pretentious gays. They are not nearly as much fun as the middle class gays. We of course get other clients besides the pretentious gays. I like to call them the "overprivileged". I would call them the 1%, but they are most foreigners who rarely tip, so I have decided to create my own buzzword for these people.

In addition to my full-time work at the hotel, I also started doing direct sales for J.Hilburn, a men's custom clothing company. I'll be setting up appointments with guys to come to their office to measure them and then have their clothes sent to them in a few weeks. I'm excited about this opportunity after going to my training and learning about how high quality the fabrics and construction really are. Unfortunately, it has made me realize that the really nice dress shirts that I owned now seem supercheap to me. Sometimes it's nice to just be happy in your own ignorance. My wine bill has gotten astronomically more expensive after I actually learned about wine. And I can see my clothing spending getting much higher as well after learning about J.Hilburn. Thankfully, J. Hilburn isn't any more expensive than Brooks Brothers, so I won't have too spend much to look amazingly fabulous. Well, I need to get to work and if any of my readers are in New York City and looking to expand their wardrobe, don't hesitate to leave a comment! Until next time... TGG.

Work!

So I've been living in New York for over two months now and am finally starting to settle in with some regular work, which means I'm officially off of unemployment. On the plus side, it will be nice to possible afford my monthly rent, however I sure do miss having the entire week free except for the few hours a day I spent job hunting. Still don't have the dream job, but I have a job and possibly jobs that will fill up my time.

So here's an update on the job front. I got a job as a bartender at this fancy new hotel in Chelsea. My friend was one of the managers there and after they fired one of the bartenders for attempting to walk out with over $800 of hotel property, I was quickly called in to work the next night. I also was offered a position to bartend at JFK airport, actually before I was offered this hotel job, but the process of getting security clearance has been a huge pain in the ass.  I've been at my new job six weeks now and still haven't cleared the process for working at the airport. As much as commuting over an hour to work each day has its own annoying appeal, things are going just fine at the hotel now, which is only about half an hour from my place.

I know it has been a couple of months since my last post, so I need to provide some adequate drama for you all. Unfortunately, my life has been riddled with disappointment for the most part, but work has provided ample entertainment for me to share with all my readers. My first day at work, I'm walking through the dining room and look at this woman sitting at dinner and thought to myself, "She looks so much like Anne Hathaway." That's because she was Anne Hathaway. Supposedly she is friends with this guy I met when I was living here in New York last year and he was having a birthday party downstairs in our private lounge. And by "met", I mean I made out with him for a few minutes before going to have a three way with his roommate and my friend, but we were all too drunk, so I just hooked up with the roommate in the morning while my best friend was asleep in the bed next to us. That's how single gay guys say hello. 

Anne Hathaway was just my first of many celebrity sightings at my new job. A week or so later, Michael Trevino, AKA Tyler Lockwood of Vampire Diaries and Jenna Ushkowitz, the Asian chick from Glee show up at my bar. By the way TMZ, they are so dating. And of course I'm the only queen in the restaurant at this time and no one else watches these shows but me. So while I'm gleaming like a little school girl, I have no one to share my news with. It was very frustrating. Another week goes by and Kyan from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy shows up. Again, I'm on the only queen in the restaurant that gives a shit.

Since then, the celebrity sightings have seem to dwindled, although I was told that Beyonce showed up one time when I wasn't working because her recording studio is next door. Jimmy Fallon was due to arrive one night, but then the manager who invited him was fired due to budget cuts. Speaking of employee cuts, let me tell you about how I got promoted from the new guy to head bartender in a matter of a month. One Saturday in January, when I had asked off of work for some random reason, there was a party in our nightclub at the hotel and all the other bartenders were working. They decided to hang out after work, get shitfaced, steal a hotel room key and party until 6am. Suddenly, I had more shifts and the rent getting paid was no longer an issue. Still looking for that MBA level career, but until then, things are working out well at Hotel Drama Central. Until next time... TGG.

Zippy and the City

My Daddy, Typical Gay Guy, has been so busy trying to find a job that he hasn't been posting on his blog like a good boy, so I decided to be a good dog and write a blog post for him because I love my Daddy! Since I'm a dog and don't type much, I apologize in advance for any typing errors and if I get randomly sidetracked from those damn squirrels.

So Daddy took the plunge and moved in with Uncle Sean and of course brought me with him. It has been hard for me to get used to living in the big city. I miss my backyard and there are SO many bicycles here. In case you didn't know, I hate bicycles. I think they are unnatural, and when I see them, I just want to chase them. Humans should walk or drive, bicycles are just like big metal squirrels to me.  Besides all the bicycles, there are a few other adjustments I have had to make regarding city life. 

First of all, squirrels here are just plain dumb. They prance around in front of me, thinking my daddy won't let me loose because all the other pretentious New York dogs know it's bad to eat them. My daddy encourages me to embrace my natural instincts and I finally caught my first squirrel. He ran around the tree trunk instead of going up it and I jumped and grabbed him while I was in mid air. I took that bitch down, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He latched onto my lip while I was shaking him to death. I did not care for it, but it didn't prevent me from trying to kill another one. This time it was personal. Also, there are black squirrels here, which I've never seen before. All the squirrels where I live are grey. I think the black ones taste better, but I have yet to catch one to confirm my theory.

Secondly, I miss my back yard. I used to go to the back door and Daddy would open it and I could run around all I want. Now, if I want to go outside, I have to go into the magic box. I walk into the magic box, the door closes by itself and then when it opens, I'm transported to another place where I can easily go for a walk. I can feel my ears pop while I'm in the magic box, but haven't figured out why. Also, I can't figure out why all these strangers come into the magic box with me. They must have to go outside to pee as well.

But there are some good things about living in New York. There are random food scraps all over the street! I keep finding food and trying to eat it, but Daddy tries to pry it out of my mouth. Sometimes I let him have it, sometimes, I swallow that shit whole! I'm always finding chicken wing bones on the ground. Daddy says that's because we live in the ghetto, whatever that means.

All in all, I'm happy to be wherever my Daddy is. When he tries to leave the apartment, I sometimes shake uncontrollably and guilt him into not leaving until Uncle Sean comes home. Sometimes it works. I need to be entertained! Well, hopefully my daddy will write more about New York soon. He got a job bartending at some hotel, or so he says. Supposedly he needs this "job" so he can buy me nice things. As long as he realizes that it is all about me, all will be okay. Until next time... Zippy.

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth!

Two things disturb me. One is the embarrassing state that I was in this past Halloween and the other is how many images you get when you type "drunk pumpkin" into Google. You all can check out the Google images yourself, so let me tell you about my Halloween. 

In hindsight, I should have known that the night was probably not going to end well considering how it started. I got a part time gig sampling wines at supermarkets and liquor stores, so I drove down during the day to do a wine sampling at one of the local supermarkets in DC. That lasted about three hours and it was pretty uneventful except for the random "urban" customer coming to my table and asking the two most annoying questions you can get at a wine tasting. Those two questions are, "Which one is sweet?" only to be toppled by the ever classy question of "Does it have liquor in it?".  After I left the wine tasting, I asked the management what they would like for me to do with the open bottles, thinking they would take them home to their family or use them personally since they were already paid for. Their response was that I could just put them in the trash because they did not want them. By trash, I took that to mean they meant the trunk of my car, or boot depending on which country you are reading this from.

So when I left the supermarket, it went from raining to snowing. Just what you want when your costume involves wearing shorts. But that was hours from now. For now, all I wanted to do was hang out with my boyfriend and start on all these open bottles of wine we had. Oddly enough I wasn't that thirsty, probably cause the wine really wasn't that great, but moreso because I was starving and food was more important than liquid at this moment. We ordered take out, AKA take away and just chilled out for a few hours until it was time to go to the multiple house parties we had planned for the evening. 

So the time was finally upon us to get ready to go out for the evening. One of Sean's friend arrived and dressed up as the Heisman trophy, complete with gold paint and football. The picture is there on the right, so I won't bother explaining our outfits, but FYI, the Heisman trophy also had a matching gold helmet that she wasn't wearing in that picture. Looking back on that picture, I can see I'm pretty plastered already, but it clearly doesn't hit me until later on in the night. And the reason you ask? I blame the witches brew! The witches brew was a concoction made by the host of the first party which is composed of kiwi, mint and vodka. Oddly enough, those first two ingredients easily hide the last one, to the point that you down the shit like it's Snapple. After about an hour or two at this party, we ventured to the next house party, which was only a few blocks away.


It is at this point that the night becomes blurry, but thank goodness for Sean unfortunately remembering most of the night. When we arrive at the next house party, I am so plastered that I sit down in the lobby of the apartment building and tell Sean, "We have to go" in my sexiest drunken slur. He happily agrees and we step outside trying to hail a cab because it's below freezing, wet and I'm wearing rugby boots. After multiple tries to acquire a cab, my boyfriend starts yelling out racial slurs at these foreigner cabbies who can barely speak English. I supposedly am very upset with my boyfriend's attitude, so I punch him in the face, so pathetically, that three people on the street see us and don't even bother making a comment. I didn't even leave a mark on his pretty face, I wish I could have said the same for my pretty face. 


Rightfully so, Sean walks off in a tizzy for what I did and I do the same. It quickly hits him that I'm staying with him and we both have to go home. It quickly hits me that I don't know where the fuck I am and neither does Sean. I don't remember how I got home or what happened to the three hours in between me walking away and me finally getting home, but during that time, I do recall a few things: 

1.) Trying to hail a cab and failing miserably, which turned out to be a good thing, since I had no money on me.
2.) Arguing with a police officer in what I believe was a 7-11 about why I was so drunk and he suggested I catch a cab and I said, "I would LOVE that!"
3.) Getting a call from Sean's friend since I had Sean's phone and left mine at his house for costume logistical reasons. And telling this friend that I was in Southeast DC, which would have been impossible since I was miles from there.
4.) Falling flat on my face while jogging on icy sidewalks in rugby boots.
5.) Meeting a nice man, who I think was named Joel who informed me that I was bleeding (from the fall)
6.) Finally making it home (perhaps thanks to Joel?) and finding my way into my boyfriend's apartment building.
7.) Knocking on his door and him not answering because he was asleep since I had been gone for hours.
8.) Passing out on the landing right in front of his door like a dog, but not before realizing just then that when I fell, I cracked my two front teeth. 

And the next morning, having this picture taken of me.  That picture says so much, so I will say no more for now. Until next time... TGG.

Therapy!

Okay, right after I announce my popularity, I disappear and don't leave a post for over a week. I am a bad, bad blogger. Please forgive me! I've been seeing a therapist because I'm so distraught over how much I have abandoned my viewers. It's tearing me apart inside. Well, I have been seeing a therapist, but really it's not all about you. It's all about me. You should know this by now.

I've actually seen two therapists in the past couple of weeks. The first one was Sean's therapist. We've been bickering a bit over some menial things lately, so we both thought that it would be a good idea to get a professional opinion. I originally blamed our bickering all on Sean's craziness, but after he went to a few sessions, I agreed to stop by and have a couple's session. I went to two sessions. The first session was a bit awkward and after talking for a few minutes, I started to realize that all the reasons we are bickering are really just our own issues, so I investigated going to see my own therapist. Not having a job and not having health insurance, I had to make sure that I would be able to afford it. But until then, we still had a free session with Sean's therapist, so I figured I would give it one more try, but this time I was prepared to talk about some of the issues that we have been bickering over. 

This story will not be funny until you try to visualize Sean's therapist, who I lovingly refer to as Broom Hilda. Imagine Dr. Evil's girlfriend from the Austin Powers movies and you pretty much have a good visual of what I am talking about, complete with the thick German accent and standing maybe five feet tall in heels. So there were two issues that I wanted to bring up during this second couple therapy session. The first session was that I was feeling a bit smothered, worried that perhaps Sean was a bit too needy. Broom Hilda knew exactly what to say. She said, "Well, he adores you. You should take that as a compliment." Who can argue with that? I went from having what I thought to be a needy boyfriend to one that adores me. I can't blame him that I'm so irresistible. 

The second issued had to do with our sex life, specifically in regards to the pitcher/catcher dynamic. You see, my boyfriend is what I like to call a "healthy boy" and no, I'm not referring to his weight, so when healthy boy tries to go where "no man that large has gone before", it causes a problem. So I tried to be as politically correct as possible with Broom Hilda when trying to explain to her the dilemma that we are having and she pauses as I wait for another piece of enlightening wisdom to come from her lips. She responds with, "Have you tried Crisco?" with a completely deadpan face and my jaw just drops. Not any questions about why anal sex is such an issue when there are other forms of intimacy or maintaining balance in the relationship, just, "How about Crisco?" And as fucked up and completely random as that was, it made me realize, "Maybe I should try a different lube?", but there is no way those trans fats are going anywhere near me. My ass is big enough, I don't need it getting any larger by injecting it with Crisco. Unfortunately we haven't been able to try out Broom Hilda's recommendation due to some other factors going on, but that's for another post. Until next time... TGG.

I'm so popular!

OMG! I am so popular! I just surpassed the 500 view milestone. And no, it's not from me looking at my own blog. I blocked myself from tampering with the numbers. This isn't Enron. There is no creative accounting going on with my statistics, although I do have a feeling that a certain boyfriend may be stalking me on here a little more than necessary, so we'll have to have a talk with him about how his performance is negatively affecting the conglomerate that is the typical gay guy.

So much pressure now to keep you coming back! I feel like the past week has been a bit uneventful, mostly because I have been sitting on my ass most of the week. There are two main reasons for that. One is that I recently got a new tattoo that has taken longer than expected to heal properly, so I haven't been able to work out as much as I would have liked. Or maybe I'm just passive agressively using the tattoo as the reason for my lazy ass not exercising. The other reason is that I have not had my Zippy with me lately as he is visiting his Grandma and Papou so that I would have more time to focus on my job hunt. Papou is Greek for grandfather and my dog understands that Papou is my father. Yes, my dog is bilingual. 

With all this free time, all I've been doing is putting an indentation in one of couch cushions with my large ass and then periodically visiting my boyfriend in DC more often than usual. Lots of exciting things are coming up in the next weeks though. I have two therapy sessions, one with my crazy boyfriend and one for my crazy ass. Tomorrow I am volunteering at a wine event featuring 250 different samples within a four hour period and Monday I am off to New York for a job interview with a wine importer. So the next weeks should be eventful for all my many fans. I just blocked my boyfriend's browser from affecting my statistics, so if I don't get to 1000 views in the same time as I did 500 views, I may cry a little bit. So to prevent that from happening, please tell your friends how super awesome I am and check me out. Until next time... TGG.