G St. Chapter Four: "In The Morning" Pt 1.

Look out! A new "G. St." Coming at you! :) In The Morning: It was Saturday morning and I was frantically trying to get ready for work because I chose to snooze my alarm instead of listen to it as it warned me that I had less than ten minutes before I had to leave the house. I had to be at “The Page Turner” cleverly named after its location on the corner of 14th and Turner Street. I was filling in for Patrick seeing how he caught food poisoning yesterday. Saturdays were usually slow filled with browsers looking to kill time on the weekend or the occasional housewife looking to lose herself in a steamy romance novel. It was an easy job with first pick of the new books that came in. I rushed in the door with my boss Dustin standing by looking at his watch. He was a cool guy for the most part. He was punctual with a pet peeve for tardiness but other than that he was pretty much laid back not caring if we sat around reading all day. “I don’t consider it sitting around, you’re boning up on ways to converse and connect with customers.” I tried to sneak a peek at my watch to see if I still had a job or if I needed to grab the want ads. “Cutting it a little close aren’t we, Freddy?” he said tapping the face of his watch. “That depends. My watch is a little ahead, but sometimes it’s a little slow. It’s the battery, it’s old and--“he held up a hand to signal me to stop talking. “You can quit rambling to stall; another two minutes and I would’ve had to put out that Help Wanted sign.” I sighed with relief as he disappeared behind the stacks. Lila was in a corner by the window where customers could read or hang out putting half off stickers on books with tattered covers. Her pretty blonde hair was up in a bun with and she was wearing her glasses that she only wore at work so they’d give her that sexy librarian look. “Hey” she said with a smile. “Hey” I said grabbing a stack of books and a page of half off stickers. It was overcast outside as we sat by the window and we both sat quietly for a moment just pricing books that would sit in a tiny bin near the front door just being passed by people who will pilfer through it but never buy anything. It was the literary equivalent of the Island of Misfit Toys. I almost felt sad for them. “So have you called him?” Lila asked not looking up from the books on her lap. If only she knew that I was feeling sorry for the marked down books in an attempt to avoid thinking about Alan and his romantic invite to dinner. It had been a few days since that morning and aside from polishing off the cake as a midnight snack I had tried not to give it much thought. I was already getting the third degree from Leo daily and now it looked like Lila was taking the next shift of interrogation. It wasn’t that I was afraid, I just wasn’t used to a guy paying such special attention to me. Receiving a dinner invite via text message was as romantic as it got for me. The dates usually consisted of the guy talking about themselves over a dinner in which we’d split the bill down the middle, but I’d end up leaving the tip. Then I’d come home and shower to wash the bad date off of me. Which I guess is a long winded way of saying that I can’t go on anymore bad dates. What makes this guy any different? “As a matter of fact, no I haven’t. I’m playing hard to get, can’t come off too needy.” I told her while planning a new topic to use an evasive maneuver in my head “But did you hear about the drug war happening in Mexico? Didn’t they get the memo? It’s ‘hugs not drugs’.” She stopped working and looked up at me with her eyebrow raised, “Nice try at the evasive maneuver. What’s the hold up? I saw him that night. He was pretty easy on the eyes and he did ask you out in a cute and original way. That’s got to count for something.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was only stating the obvious. “Listen, Lila, I just haven’t decided when and if I want to. It’s all a delicate process besides, he has probably forgotten all about me.” Looking unsatisfied with my answer she pulls out her phone from her pocket and hands it to me. “Well, we’ll never know until we try and what’s the worst that can happen?” “I could end up spending another night in the shower exfoliating another bad date off of me which could lead to OVER exfoliating which could lead to dry skin. Do you really want that on your conscious?” I told her trying to defuse the situation with humor. “Or you could spend a great evening with a cute guy and have it blossom into something equally great.” She countered with. I sat for a moment and weighed out my options. On one hand, I could possibly have a pleasant evening with a handsome man and save water on a post date shower and on the other hand, I could get everyone off my back about the entire issue and finally put it to rest. It seemed like a win-win when you laid it out like that. “Fine” I said, “I’ll call him tonight. Now, let’s finish putting stickers on these books. They’re starting to depress me.” As the sun finally set and ushered in the night I knew I couldn’t put off calling Alan any longer. I paced the floor in my room from wall to wall staring at the card with Alan’s number on it. Hadn’t the window of making a phone call responding to a dinner date closed? With any luck, he had forgotten all about it. And then it hit me that I could be making a bigger deal out of this than it actually was. I continued to pace the floor as I threw caution to the wind and dialed his number. It rang once. . . .Twice. . . . then a third time. And just as it was about to ring a fourth I heard a voice. “Hello?” Hearing his voice stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t even say hello back, what made me think I could carry on an actual conversation with this guy? “Hello?” he asked a second time waiting for a response. “He-ey” I choked out, “It’s Freddy. We met at one of your shows. I hope I’m not calling too late.” “Yeah! I remember you. How are you?” He asked sounding a little shocked. “Good, good. I was just calling to ask if that invitation to dinner was still on the table.” There was a small pause before he responded. A small part of me was hoping that he’d end this quickly; my palms were feeling a little clammy. “Of course! I’d love to take you out sometime. What about tomorrow night?” I could hear a smile on his end as he said it and I felt one creep up on mine. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” We finalized the details and we hung up. I opened the door to my bedroom to run to tell Leo what happened. As I swung it open a body fell to my floor. Leo looked up at me with an empty glass in his hand. “Oh! Hey! Hey there! I was just. . . .ummm. . . .Listening for door fairies? You’re young enough to believe that, right?” I couldn’t help but laugh as I lent him my hand. “Well, I think I found one. Better call the exterminator in the morning.” “So I couldn’t help but over hear-“ “Shamelessly I might add.” “Yes, well, that’s beside the point. My little Freddy has a date! Now, you won’t die an old maid.” He hugged me to the point of suffocation. The next morning I awoke to the sound of our door bell. I knew Leo wouldn’t answer it due to the fact that he sleeps under a mountain of pillows thus making it impossible for any sound to penetrate his force field. It was a quiet Sunday morning and I figured any and all pamphlet carriers were in there respective churches praying for the poor souls such as myself who were sleeping in. I grabbed my robe and made my way to the front door. I looked through the peep hole and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Alan standing there dressed casual in a black t-shirt, jeans and Converses. I looked down and saw myself in pajama bottoms, an undershirt and I’m pretty sure morning breath was going to be present if I answered this door. Why was he here? What did he want? And what was he going to think when he sees this hot morning mess? With no time to analyze the situation too long I ran my fingers through my hair and made a mental note to keep an appropriate distance. I slowly opened the door and he greeted me with a bright smile. “Good morning.” He said with his hands in his pockets, with his signature handsome smile, looking at me like I knew the reason he was here. “Good morning to you.” I replied, “I thought when the time changed we fell backwards an hour and it wouldn’t be so bright outside for dinner.” “You’re right.” He said, “But dinner seems so predictable for a date. I thought maybe we’d switch things up. I’m sure you haven’t had breakfast yet” His hazel eyes looked excited as he searched my face for some kind of reciprocation, but how can anyone reciprocate so early in the morning? Wasn’t this the day of rest? But on the other hand, I had to hand it to him for his spontaneity. “You know, that sounds like a good idea.” I said with a smile, “Just give me a few minutes and we’ll be good to go. Come on in.” I moved out of the door way to let him through. Luckily, Leo and I pride ourselves on having the house neat and inviting just in case we have unexpected company drop in. “Could I get you something to drink while you wait?” I offered calling from the kitchen. I opened the fridge to find all the essentials a single gay man needs: milk, leftovers, soda, orange juice, vodka. Would screw drivers be too tacky for a first date? Look at me, the guy barely gets through the door and I was already contemplating getting hammered. “No, I’m fine.” He called back, “and hey, don’t feel rushed just because I’m here. I kind of did show up out of the blue.” His voice was kind and it sent butterflies through me. I took a shot of vodka and chased it with some orange juice to calm my nerves. I’m human, sue me. I walked back into the living room to find him flipping through a magazine. He looked up from it and put it down when he saw me. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m almost embarrassed that I showed up here without you knowing. I think I was trying to be romantic and spontaneous.” He said looking nervous. I took solace that he wasn’t the only one. I left him standing there and wandered back into the kitchen. I returned with two screwdrivers. “Still feeling spontaneous?” I asked him handing him a glass. He took a sip and a smile crept on his face. God, what is it about that smile. We decided to make breakfast at my house. We both searched for pans to cook eggs and bacon. I didn’t use the kitchen for anything other than to make coffee. He quickly picked up on this when he caught me looking in the top cupboard for the frying pan. “Why don’t you let me take it from here.” He said turning on the burners of the stove. “I couldn’t possibly let you do that.” I said, “It’d be rude of me as a host and go against everything Emily Post stands for.” He turned from the stove and walked to the fridge taking two eggs from it. “How do you like your eggs?” he asked smiling and I suppose ignoring me and Emily Post. We spent majority of the morning eating the delicious breakfast he made. He was such great company and great conversation. I learned that Allen was the oldest of four children, grew up in a conservative home and was unhappy with the plan that his parents had laid out for him. He was supposed to graduate high school and go to law school and work for his father’s firm thereafter. But he had fallen into the art crowd and fallen in love with sketching. He never thought that it would turn in to anything other than an escape, but he couldn’t focus on anything but his passion. When graduation came around he told his parents that he was going to school to study art. They were upset and disappointed and told him they were not going to pay for his “hobby”. He had got a job at a diner working the morning shift (thus being handy in the kitchen) paying his dues submitting pieces of his art to different galleries. Finally, one gallery fell in love with his pieces of abstract art. He was just inspired by all the emotions he was feeling striking out on his own and chasing something that meant a lot to him. He put all the inspiration into shapes, colors and lines. The art dealer fell in love with it. “They just seem to mean something to me at the time. I was up and down, on a constant emotional rollercoaster. It just felt good to put all of that on a canvas.” I was in awe of his story. He knew exactly what he wanted and went after it. It kind of made me wonder what I was doing with my life. “The art world is so intriguing to me. I can barely do a stick figure, but I admire those who can become so inspired by anything they come across.” I said looking into his eyes with total admiration. His face turned a shade of red as he smiled. He then reached out and put his hand on top of mine. Suddenly, his face wasn’t the only one turning red. “When I met you that night at the gallery I was kind of feeling down due to the fact that everyone there seemed to be more interested in the open bar than what I was trying to share with everyone. It just felt like a cocktail party instead of something cultural. Then I saw you standing there staring at that picture. Totally separate from what everyone else was doing. I had to meet you. I got kind of nervous though when I saw you standing with that guy-“ “He’s just a friend.” I added. “I kind of got that when you weren’t giving off that possessive vibe over him like some men do. There was something about you.” My face became hot again. I was getting that feeling one gets when you have a really great time with someone. It was comfortable and there was no pressure to put on this horse and pony show to impress him. Clearly, seeing how I was still in pajamas. By the time I looked at a clock it was almost lunch time and he still had his hand on mine, but I didn’t seem to mind. I walked him to my door and we stood there before I opened it. “Thank you for breakfast. It was spontaneous, romantic and fun.” I told him. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He picked up my hand and kissed it back. “Thanks for not calling the cops and having them bring me up and stalking charges.” He said. We both laughed and I let him out. Before getting into his car he tossed me the morning paper. “Can I see you again? Maybe we could actually have dinner next time?” Without even thinking about it I told him yes. After he left I decided I needed to celebrate my first successful date in a long time with friends. I grabbed my phone and dialed up Lila’s number. “Hello?” she said in a raspy voice. She was still asleep. “So I’ve already had breakfast, but how about drinks tonight? I think I can skip exfoliating for one night.” Picking up on my subtle nod to my morning I could hear a hint of a smile to her voice. “Count me in.” I told her I’d have Patrick and Leo join us. Tonight we were toasting. Maybe I’d have a screwdriver. I showed up first to The Bluestone and snagged a tall table in a corner. Sunday nights were slow. I decided to wait for the rest of the gang to show up before ordering. Alex came to the table looking like something was on his mind. He was a proud man who didn’t usually blurt out every little thing that was on his mind, unlike me; sometimes he needed a little push. “What’s up with you? You’re head looks like it’s about to blow up. I mean, it always does, but tonight it might reach total capacity.” See what I mean. I don’t think he appreciated my light and frothy humor with that look on his face. “I’m just a little stressed. I’m short on help and so I have to make the drinks, deliver the drinks and bill for the drinks.” He took a seat on the stool next to me and laid his head on the table. I ran my fingers through his hair hoping that it would relieve some of his burden. It was thick and soft like silk, I almost asked him if he used conditioner and if so, what kind. Then it hit me, “Hey, here’s a crazy idea, why don’t I lend a helping hand until you find some help?” He lifted his head off the table and raised an eyebrow, “Seriously? You’d do that? Have you ever worked in a bar before?” he asked with a look of hope in his eyes. “No, but how hard can it be? I know the menu really well and get along with the regulars. Plus, I got a pretty face. Now who wouldn’t want a cocktail delivered with a smile?” I said using my best Bambi eyes. “But don’t you already have a job?” Alex asked. “It’s been terribly slow and my boss cut back on my hours. I could really use the money.” I told him. “Fine, fine” he said, “Can you start tomorrow?” I jumped out of my seat with glee and gave Alex a suffocating hug. “Oh, thank you! I won’t let you down. We’re going to have so much fun!” I said. He told me what time to come in and to wear comfortable shoes. I was officially Freddy, the cocktail waiter. That's just part one :) I had a lot of fun playing with Freddy's romantic side. It was fun seeing how he and Alan throw the rules of dating out the window and have an impromptu breakfast. What's next in store for them I wonder? And how will working at The Bluestone work out? Guess you'll find out in Part Two! :) <3 Xoxo, B.

No Rest For The Wicked.

Touching base once again and yes, it has been a whirlwind of literary madness! :) I've added two new journals for my collection. One is a dream journal, but I've been having trouble sleeping lately which makes it hard to remember the small fragments of dreams I do have, but it is my goal to understand my waking life better by analyzing my dreams. The other, is for my prayers. I've never been the hardcore religious type but I always make it a point to set some time to be spiritual and that includes praying. The only down side is that I like to pray when my mind is focused (which hasn't happened that often lately lol). Even in the shower, as I lather my hair, I remind myself to pray about this or that. But by nights end, I'm too tired to remember what it is I wanted wisdom and guidance about. So I decided to write my prayers to God in hopes that they will still be heard even if I use a pen. I did a lot of writing for the big project I'm working on (I'm still trying to decide what to call it, but my mind changes too much) as well as a couple pages for "G St." on top of reading books whenever I can. I feel quite proud of myself at filling my time this way. The only question I have for myself is when I'll dedicate some time to exercise for the body as well as the mind. But I think waiting tables does have some cardiovascular benefits to it lol. Gotta love loopholes. It's a beautiful time in my life right now. Yes, I could crumble underneath the daily stresses in the back of my mind, but giving up has never been an option of mine. That's when you work harder, you don't wait for solutions to your problems, you go find them for yourself and most importantly. . . . breathe :) Sometimes you are stronger than you might give yourself credit for. Stay lovely <3 Xoxo, B.

I Am.

Here I am on the eve before my 22nd birthday and I am filled with joy, love and contentment. I am listening to old India Arie albums. Her music has always had a way of feeding my soul when I'm starving, healing my heart when it aches and making my spirit soar higher than the moon and stars. I'm conversating with the angels through song who have been by my side through all my good and bad times, sending up thanks and gratitude to them. I'm bathing in nostalgia mixed with lavender and vanilla. I'm shedding another layer of myself. I'm having a private party celebrating how far I've come and the person I am now. The sacrifices I made, the roads I took, the mistakes I chose, the people I met, the love and loss that was exchanged on a daily basis has led to here and now. I am thankful and regret nothing. I am ready. I am loved. I am humbled. I am emotional. I am spiritual. But above all else, I am Human. Take me as I am <3 "I want to go where the mountains are high enough to echo my song. I want to go where the rivers run deep enough to drown my shame. I want to go where the stars shine bright enough to show me the way. I want to go where the wind calls my name. . ." -India Arie. As always, Xoxo, B.