Wednesday, September 15, 2004
spent the day painting with steven and his godfather. his caucasian (or mulatto) jamaican godfather, who i remember steven telling me something about the whole gay thing. either he dosen't know, or he knows and isn't happy about. trust me not clarify that beforehand. soon after i was there the first gay comment came out. something about a waiter at a restaurant customers asked for, though the customers weren't sure what his name was so they made a fluttery motion with their hands and suggested he was a butterfly. the punchline, the butterfly didn't care cause they tipped 30%. having lived with a butterfly waiter for 12 years i know 30% is acceptable. i mean, my butterfly wouldn't come home and say 'and they tipped 30%'.
steven spent more time dancing and singing to crazy hip hop. the radio station was playing some new jay-z & r.kelly collaboration from a reissued jay-z and r. kelly album. they talked over the beat before the actual song started, then the song either sampled crazy in love by beyonce or they had some mix of crazy in love with the same beat. then another song with the same freaking beat. if it's new i thinks to myself how comes there are all these versions of it. the something that was based on la isla bonita and i started wondering how people can get off saying dance music is the same beat over and over.
anywho, at any point that the godfather was in another room steven would start fondling me. blowing me kisses and winks as well. basically just getting me all horned up. then steven left to get us food (as he was the only one doing nothing) and i started to fear being left alone with the godfather. stupid me, i said why are you getting delivery when the place is less then a block away.
a smattering of small talk, leading to where i was from, i imagine leading to what's my background. i was getting ready with the whole i'm adopted line, which always shuts people up who won't give up when it turns out he wants to know how they treat gays where i grew up. obviously, he knows, i think. i'm stymied. getting ready to say i'm an adopted gypsy (total lie) i'm instead discussing attitudes towards gays. conversation ends. food arrives.
steven keeps getting more and more overt with me, as if he wants to get caught. i do not. when i tell him to stop he starts singing 'my place' (nelly i think but ps he sings in a falsetto which is kind of nelly). whether or not it is his place i don't think we need displays of affection while we're working, even though it makes me very hot. after 5 hours of hard work i excuse myself. actual moving in takes place on thursday but i did not commit to it. as the bartender says in beaches 'i've got a bad back'.
2:20 AM
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