I Want to Be with You Everywhere

Yes, I was wearing a flannel shirt.

W and I were in Atlantic City for the weekend.

We spent about five minutes in the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino before we were overwhelmed by the grandness of it all. The lights, the bling, the music, the noise. We stood there in the lobby like a pair of lesbian Country Mice lost in the big city. 

After checking in, we retired to our fancy room, splurged on room service and then headed out to a Fleetwood Mac concert. That’s why we were in town. Fleetwood Mac was the last band on my concert bucket list.

The OG (Original Gypsy).

At 70, Stevie Nicks still has it. She was decked out in a raven black dress and black fringed shaw, clutched a tambourine in one hand and even executed her trademark triple twirl at the end of “Gypsy.”

The band was in fine form and played all its hits.

Mike Campbell from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and Neil Finn from Crowded House stood in for Lindsey Buckingham, who is not touring with the rest of the band. Fleetwood Mac celebrated Tom Petty in one of its encore songs by playing “Freefall” while a montage of Petty photographs, many of which showed him playing alongside Nicks, played on the big screen.

After the concert, W and I went out for a nice pasta dinner. We ended the night by grabbing some gelato and heading back up to our hotel room. A.C. was just starting to heat up, but what can I say? It was past our bedtime.

The next morning, W found a nice spot for breakfast, and we ate eggs by the bay before heading home.

It was a short getaway, but I feel rested and rejuvenated and in love with my wife.

 

When life gets to be a drag

W called me a few weeks ago from work.

“Martha just announced that she’s doing an afternoon show on Saturday. Can we go?”

Martha, also known as Martha Graham Cracker, is W’s favorite drag queen. I had already agreed to go to an evening show.

“Yes, if it will make you happy,” I said. “And if I can drink beer.”

So, last weekend, we took off for Philly for back to back drag shows at a dive bar called Bob & Barbara’s.

The timing could not have been worse. I have a big writers’ event this weekend. We’re having 16 people over for Thanksgiving. And we’re in the middle of a whole bunch of home repairs, including having a new heating system installed.

But it was good to get away. Once we were in the city, there was nothing for me to do but relax.

We watched Martha’s first show.

And Martha’s second show.

We drank what is know as a “city wide.” That’s a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a shot of Jim Beam for $4 ($3 during happy hour). We drank many city wides. The city wide is, without a doubt, the best bargain in all of Philadelphia.

We got a deal on a fancy hotel room through Priceline Express.

And just when we didn’t think the weekend could get any better, we found a great little diner for breakfast the next day.

I don’t think we wanted the weekend to end, because we stopped on our way home to see A Star is Born.

So, here’s some advice from your favorite butch blogger: When life gets to be too crazy, take a timeout, toss back some cheap booze and find thee a drag queen.

* * *

What’s your go to when you need to blow off some steam?

 

 

 

 

Waiting for the weekend

W and I are going away for the weekend.  Actually, just Saturday night, but it’s still a big deal because we rarely go anywhere without the kids.

A few months ago, I found a Groupon for a new casino that had just opened up about 15 minutes from our house.  For $99 you got a $50 dining credit, a $50 slot credit and an overnight stay in the adjoining hotel.  Sweet.

Groupon. Good.  Heidi.  Good.

Have I mentioned that I love Groupon just about as much as I love Heidi Klum?

I figured that if I purchased the Groupon W and I would have to commit to going away and finding a babysitter.

W told the kids that they were going to be staying with their grandparents.  When they asked why, she attempted to explain the value of the Groupon.

Basically, they thought it was a rip off because, in the end, we were only netting $1.

W commented that when you have babysitting the Groupon is worth like a million dollars.

How true.

I would sleep with Demi Moore for $1 million.  Wait, I don’t think that was the premise of the movie.

I would definitely pay a million bucks for a night with W.  It would be like our own lesbian Indecent Proposal.

The kids really have no idea as to how much things cost.

You could show them a bag of rocks and they might think that it costs $36.  A tank of gas?  Maybe only $10.  I know that I never really learned the value of money until I started working at McDonald’s when I turned 16.

Minimum wage was $3.35 an hour back then.  I had to wear a brown polyester uniform, get up at 5:30 a.m. on weekends and clean out a fast-food bathroom that was too dirty for me to use without lining the seat with cheeseburger wrappers.  You do the math.

Anyway, W and I are excited about our big weekend.  We’re meeting some friends there and will be having a nice Italian dinner Saturday evening.  I want a glass of red wine.  Or two.  I’ve been jonesing for a Kir Royale.  Or two.

Hoping that the anticipation and excitement doesn’t supersede the actual weekend.

Because, truth be told, I haven’t been able to think of anything else this week.  Just being alone with W.