Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Psycho Fabulous

One of my favorite things lately is dining out alone.
I talked about it in a previous post and since then, I can't wait to get an evening to myself.
Saturday, I found myself in Houston for *cough* a meeting with a friend. A few hours later, I wondered why the hell I was there and started daydreaming of lunch.
I couldn't wait to shake "my friend" and find a nice restaurant.
I headed for a late lunch at Niko Niko's, my favorite Greek place but even at 2pm, they were packed. I couldn't even find a parking place.
I wasn't up to driving across town to another favorite restaurant so I scanned Montrose and saw a place called Hollywood that boasted Vietnamese, Chinese and French cuisine.
Ok, Vietnamese and Chinese I could see...but French? I was intrigued. I had to go.
For those of you unfamiliar with Houston. Montrose is a very gay-friendly area. The Gay Pride parade is held there, rainbow flags hang everywhere and every other person is gay. I love this place.
The restaurant was beautiful, the Vietnamese food was great, my waiter was stand-offish. I didn't care, I had my iPod and a seat by the window. I watched two gay black men fight about something. One had on jeans, a tshirt and heels, carrying a cheap walmart handbag.
The other was a regular guy with a can of what I'm assuming was malt liquor in a brown paper sack.
That was all the dinner theater I needed.

Last night, I decided to head to a favorite sushi place. I settled in, placed my order and pulled out my iPod. Just as I did this, I noticed something strange on the other side of the window that ran the length of the wall. It was a man, wearing a red motorcycle helmet, a woman's white dress slip, two purses slung across his body and several strands of beads wrapped around his neck.
The slip was cinched around his waist with a green army-type belt. A woman pushing a stroller walked by and she stopped and stared in what I could only assume was shock and awe.
He noticed this and decided to do a little pirouette. This movement caused the slip to flutter up and show everyone in the restaurant (who, by the way, had stopped talking and eating to stare at this spectacle) his yellow banana hammock that was swinging VERY low.
A collective gasp could be heard all over the restaurant and I was shocked that it didn't turn into a huge barforama when he suddenly turned his back to his audience and bent over.
The material of his skimpy yellow undies were worn thin from excessive washing or years and years of wear and I could tell there wasn't much between us and sure terror. I thanked Jebus that his backwards bow lasted a mere second. It could have so easily turned into a if it weren't already.
My waiter was standing next to me as the man finished the show and skipped down the sidewalk, perhaps to entertain another restaurant full of unsuspecting diners.
"Well, what can ya do?", said my profound waiter.
I looked around the restaurant as people were giggling together.
I shrugged and replied, "At least he was wearing a helmet."

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