bl(ip)og

I think I’m at least 15 lbs heavier after all of the awesome food we ate in Charleston. Thank god we walked a bazillion miles seeing the sites or it’d be more like 30 lbs.

Everyone was soooo damn friendly down there, with the exception of a few other tourists. In fact, there were so many straight guys acting like real gentlemen that my gaydar was rendered ineffective. I felt like such a rookie. Le Sigh

In addition to being friendly, everyone down there smokes. I actually wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to have seen a dog with a Marlboro hanging from its mouth.

For my May installment of “Karma can be a bitch”, as Jason and I took the stairs to the third-floor of the Southend Brewery (only because the line for the one elevator was obscenely long), I made the comment “elevators are for pussies“, and then proceeded to stumble going up the stairs. As a frequent stumbler on the stairs at work, I’ve have ample time to perfect my “just make it look like you’re trying to kneel on the stairs” routine, … or so I had thought. When I tried to do that, BOTH of my feet lost their footing and I ended up doing a nice face plant. The staircase was “open air”, giving everyone on the packed first-floor a spectacular view of my performance. Ugh. Anyways, after two pints of some awesome microbrew (god, why did I leave Portland?), we took the elevator back to the first floor.

Got to meet up with a cool kid that Jason had been talking to online for a few months. He introduced us to Vickery’s, a cool mixed/gay-friendly bar/restaurant, where he proceeded to buy us shot-after-shot-after-shot, but we liked him even before that — honest. ::urp::

We also got to catch one of The Lady Chablis‘ performances for Charleston’s Picollo Spoleto Festival . Now that’s how drag is done. Attendance at one of her shows should be mandatory before anyone in drag ever sets foot on a stage.