Monday, October 08, 2007

"I had a dream I wanted to lick your knees..."

Just when I started talking to crickets (hopefully to be posted about later) and thought I was the craziest guy around, Zed goes and ups the ante.

My brother and sister-in-law got me a gift certificate to the local exercise studio. I am not sure what else to call it. It is not a gym - you pay as you go and there are only classes like pilates, spinning, and this isometric/plyometric hell I have been putting myself through.

I stumbled (really) out of class across the street to the taco joint seeking protein and sugar. As I am holding myself up on the counter the cashier and the guy next to me are kind of giving me a look. So I toss out a casual explanation, "I hate those guys over at the workout studio." Gesturing with my thumb over my shoulder to indicate the place across the street. The guy asks me for clarification as to what place, so I explained with a little more detail. I ordered my tacos, filled my drink and sat down. The story should end there, but it doesn't.

Guy: Hey, what did you say the name of that place you worked out was?

Me: "FIT." It is right across the street...Oh crap, (noticing this guy was ripped) you're not a trainer there are you?

Guy: No, but thanks for the compliment.

Tacos came I sat down.

Guy: (Inaudible)

Me: What?

Guy: (Inaudible)

Me: (Walking to get closer.) I'm sorry, what?

Guy: Do you live around here?

Me: Oh, yeah. I actually live in town. (Hey, hey. This guy may be hitting on me! I may be putting out gaydar signals after all.)

Guy: I just moved back from California. I was engaged to a Mexican girl (relevant to him speaking Spanish to the cashier) but I called it off.

Me: Sorry to hear that. But I am sure it was for the best. Better now than later, right?

Guy: Do you want to sit down? (Oh he is so going to hit on me.)

Me: Sure. What the hell. (Cross "get hit on by a gay guy" off my list, and it is on to "spend a night in jail.")

Guy: My name is Zed. (I have, of course, changed his name.)

Me: Chris. Nice to meet you Ted.

Zed: Zed.

Me: Sorry. Zed?

Zed: Yeah.

I have edited the body of the conversation for time. But I immediately became freaked out by his lack of eye contact. When he did look at me he had the deadest eyes I have ever seen. A mention of being on and off meds explained the glassed over eyes. An exchange of paramilitary histories explained his crew cut, but his interest in my Navy Whites makes me think he may still have been hitting on me. An anecdote of Zed walking to the White House and getting questioned for holding onto the fence initially struck me as odd to walk that damn far (7.71 mi on Mapquest) just to loiter and be a nuisance. Then it dawned on me that they have a substantial amount of voltage running through those bars. It probably did him some good, but I kept on eye on his spork from then out.

Zed: Do you know who you're voting for? (Crap! He is going to canvass me.)

Me: No not really.

Zed: You don't know which candidate or which party? Or both?

Me: Both. Every time I think I have my mind made up something changes.

Zed: Do you think white countries are better?

Me: You mean like Belarus or Cote d'Ivoire?*

Zed: Like Germany, Norway, or Sweden...or America.

Me: No, not really. (Involuntary eyebrow arch belies my inner monologue "What kind of racist nut are you?") I've traveled a bit and I think America is still the best country going. I mean, I know our education and health care systems are screwed up but it beats the hell out of living in a place where soldiers are walking the streets with machine guns twenty-four hours a day.

Zed finished his taco salad and got up.

Zed: Hey, it was nice meeting you. But I have to get going if that's OK?

Me: No problem. (Thank you, Jesus.)

Zed: Thanks for talking to me.

Me: Hey, it beats staring off into space by myself. (Plus, "Hello, blog-fodder!")

Zed exits.

What the hell was that about? I finished shortly thereafter and got up to leave myself. And as I walked out into the night I caught my own reflection in the door and was reminded of my gleaming naked pate. Holy shit! He thought I was a fucking SKINHEAD!

Everybody sing with me now...

[Since I know you are wondering, the pic at the top of the post was the result of Googling "David Bowie Nazi" and that was picture number six. I tried "David Bowie brown shirt" and it came back with a brown David Bowie concert t-shirt! So I went with the naked Iman. Though I guess it does llok like he is trying to lick her knees.]

*My actual comment was "What do you mean?" But I thought of the Belarus (White Russia) joke on the way home. So I am giving myself credit for actually having said it. I added Cote d'Ivoire (Ivory Coast) while writing this.


lulu said...

You look far too sweet to be mistaken for a skinhead, in your pictures anyway. I think he was hitting on you.

Lucidiocy said...

Oy Vey.

GETkristiLOVE said...

I knew it! You're a fit, gay, Republican skinhead!

Sorry for the lame comment, but there were too many taco jokes so I had to go in a different direction this time.

pistols at dawn said...

Why not consider yourself hit on? It's always nice to cross something off the list.

Plus, white power looks good on some men.

Next time, just keep referencing your ample collection of 12-eyes with white laces, your Screwdriver albums, and how you can't believe you're not wearing a Fred Perry polo shirt.

Bubs said...

Wow. I think he thought you were a skinhead AND he was hitting on you, in a confused way.

Blowing Shit Up With Gas said...

I stopped believing this was a real story as soon as I read "taco joint." You are evil, Evil.

Evil Genius said...


Aw, thanks! Are you hitting on me?


If he only knew my weakness for Jewish girls! ;)


I have an athletic frame which makes me look fit even though I am not at the moment. If I were gay I think I would be Log Cabin just to make my life more complicated. But as it is I am that all important swing voter. I am the voice of the radical middle!

But I can see where people could make these mistakes.


Does it count if he didn't realize he was hitting on me? I would consider that being recruited!


Aren't all skinheads latent homosexuals? (e.g. the last words of the Illinois Nazi.)


It was a Baja Fresh. And I am actually kind of afraid Zed will somehow find this post and track me down.

- E-vil

Johnny Yen said...

The song running through my head was Camper Van Beethoven's "Take the Skinheads Bowling."

Skylers Dad said...

So now you need to keep looking over your shoulder for this guy, cause he is probably a stalker.

Just thought I would plant that in your subconsciouses...

anandamide said...

I'd just like to commend your dedication to blogsphere, putting yourself in a situation to be either hit on by a guy or recruited by republicans/skin heads (or all three) just to get a post out of it....

anandamide said...

I'd just like to commend your dedication to blogsphere, putting yourself in a situation to be either hit on by a guy or recruited by republicans/skin heads (or all three) just to get a post out of it....

anandamide said...

In fact, I thought it was too noble to simply commend once !!!

Evil Genius said...


Mission accomplished.


It would be hard for you to make me more paranoid than I already am.


Anything for my readers.


Didn't you just say that?


Oh, I see.


Grant Miller said...

That's some fucked up shit.

The Idea Of Progress said...

If gay Republicans are Log Cabin Republicans, what are gay skinheads called?

I don't have a joke, it's actually a question.

pistols at dawn said...

Idea, I believe they're called "f-ing dead when their friends find out."

Coaster Punchman said...

You may have met Jesus. You never know.

Evil Genius said...


What an astute observation. I have no witty rejoinder for that.


I would guess this is a prevalent enough occurrence as to merit a name, but much like Sasquatch - there is not enough documented evidence.



Coaster Punchman,

Everyone is Jesus. Namasate.