Dividing My Time

Busking First, Movies Second
Dole Day Afternoon  half of Sacred Heart get their government checks today.

I was full of energy for busking, after having arrived back at the apartment, set up to watch movies all night.

78 Points

It occurred to me that I don't really love movies enough to be able to think that it would be more enjoyable to sit and watch them, rather than go out and busk.

I had no cash at all, and hardly anything on the American Express "Serve" card.

This, to me was a good time to go out and busk, as, I had everything I needed, waiting at the apartment, beans soaking in warm water, movies ready to go in the VCR, for instance.

5 Dollar Wednesday

I got the the Lilly Pad and checked the time as I sat down. It was 10:19 PM.

I played for a while. Very few people walked past.

After about an hour a guy put a 5 dollar bill in my jar, which had looked like a one, from my angle.

After discovering that I had made 5 bucks in an hour, I decided not to play another hour for 5 more, as that was what I was telling myself was the going rate.

If I were still drinking, then I would have surely turned that 5 bucks into a drunken state and then would have come back out to play sloppily.

It is Southern Decadence time, when the Quarter is flooded with gay and lesbian people and their ilk.

I Remember Last Year's Festival

A quick consultation of my notes from previous festivals reminded me that the gays are, generally speaking, very self absorbed.

I had changed the words to a Beatles song to "Queers Never Give Me No Money," during last year's festival, when I was a drinker.

I remember that I had to move down a couple blocks from the Lilly Pad, due to sound volume coming from the bar area, where a variety of gay directed entertainment was part of the program. The gays can hoot loud enough to drown out a guitarist if a guy is dancing in a g string in front of them, for example....

After pocketing the 5 dollar bill, content that Harold the cat would eat, I went to the Quartermaster, where they usually give me free coffee, and where my friend, Jerry is a cook.
Jerry gave me a friendly greeting.

There were two guys at the counter, both had just flown in from California for the festival, and had made a stop at the Quartermaster one of their priorities.

81 Points

One of them was having a conversation with Jerry.

He was Asian and effeminate looking. It looked like his bones were soft, as his legs seemed to bend backwards at the knees, and it looked like his stomach was soft, as he was rather pear shaped. He spoke with the lisp that I notice in at least half of the gay guys that I have ever met; an observation that has prompted more than one person to tell me that I was "stereotyping" gays.

I don't think that I'm thtereotyping gayth when I thay that.

The guy had said that he flew in from San Francisco, and mentioned that he "always" took home a lot of food from the Quartermaster, and that, this year he was going to buy his own containers, as one of them had broken open during the plane voyage last year.

I could see that this was probably one of Jerry's big tippers, since the guy had made it a priority to stop at his kitchen, and I kind of stayed back while Jerry schmoozed him, offered him samples of his lasagna sauce, etc.

But, when I finally got the opportunity to get in a word, and began talking to Jerry about my fortune in coming across a VCR and bunch of movies, the Asian guy, as if I weren't even there and as if he had just remembered something else, cut me off and started to talk to Jerry again.

I could understand Jerry diverting his attention from me to the guy; he can talk to me every night but only sees the Asian guy once a year, perhaps, and the guy tips him a c-note, perhaps, but that pissed me off.

It was almost as if the queer rolled his eyes at the mention of VHS movies ...oh, that's so ancient history... gave me a quick once over, and lost a modicum of respect for me.

But, it was more like he is a self absorbed fag, who takes it for granted that he will be wealthy and fly in from San Francisco once a year and return home with gourmet food (some for Sniggles, his poodle) and doesn't realize or has, again, taken it for granted that without the crony network of gays, to which he owes his job -selling something or providing some service to gays, through that "network," that they have, which is probably second only to the Jews in the strength of the fabric of it- he would just be an Asian queer with lust of the palate as a weakness. Lucky for him he wasn't born back in the 1940's when all of that was underground.

I opted not to snap at the guy after the second time that he just began talking right over me.
It was a reminder and a heads up for what I am in for this weekend: Self absorbed Queers; many of whom will not even notice a busker, or will stop another one from throwing a tip upon determining that I wasn't one of them. If I were, my fag friends would have gotten me a fabulous wardrobe and a gig at a swank gay place ..You jutht pluck your little stringies until your hearths content!