Robert Manners

Monday Memoirs

It's long after Monday is over before you'll read this, but it's been a long day. Cut me a break.



In fact, it was a hell of a weekend. Who knew that so many ugly people could be herded into one place? I speak of Six Flags Marine World in Vallejo, CA. I mean, if you ran a beauty contest between most of the patrons I observed from various standpoints around the park, and a selection of the less attractive elephants and walruses, the latter would win tusks-down.



Of course, I do have a somewhat prejudicial fondness for elephants, and I quite like walruses (or is it walri?) as well.



Still, I don't consider myself a raving beauty, or even above reproach...but damn, most of these folks should have been drowned at birth, they were so ugly! There's a certain level of ugly where you start crossing the line that separates Private Homeliness from the more criminal Defacing Public Property with one's presence...and these people could bring down the property values of Fifth Avenue and Pacific Heights together!



So anyway, Saturday: I went to Dalton's company picnic there at Marine World. After having spent all of Friday bent over cases of antique jewelry and objets de vertu, walking ten or twenty miles of uncarpeted boutique floors, and stuffing myself with unwholesome sweets in Petaluma (you remember...if not, read below)...after all that, I came home and couldn't quite get settled down. I watched television for quite some time, after writing the very long post below this one, and didn't get to sleep until after two.



Then I had to get up at 7am on Saturday morning so I could do a couple of errands for the Grandmother before getting out to Dalton's. There was traffic, of course, and it was boiling hot, and the park was terribly crowded (yes, crowded with ugly people, which is worse than just being crowded), and the price of beverages was ridiculous (three dollars for a regular old cup of coffee...yet hot dogs were only four dollars, and a huge helping of soft-serve ice cream in a waffle cone was only $2.50...those strike me as very strange priorities).



But we had a lovely time. We watched the dolphins perform (Dalton's favorite creature, he has more than thirty depictions of them scattered around his home), and the elephants (my favorite animals, after young men), and paid our respects to the flamingoes (the gayest wildlife) and the walruses (the most sedate). I went on one ride called "Dinosphere," which was somewhat entertaining though I couldn't see the 3D animation very well (my eyes are different strengths), and the line was much too long, and was populated by many quite unmannerly people (yes, you guessed it, rude and ugly people...though there was a German man in front of us who looked exactly like Friedrich in The Sound of Music, except shorter and somewhat less-well-groomed, and there was also a bevy of teenage boys who were fairly easy on the eyes though too young even for me). I even went on a roller coaster, "Roar," which is wooden and rather silly (the highlight of that sojourn, aside from spending quality time with Dalton, was the Super-Hottie who was about five people behind us in the amazingly long line...a true pearl before myriad swine).



So after we had squeezed all the fun out of that joint, we trekked back to the car and headed up to Guerneville to see Holatta Tymes' fabulous drag revue up at Club Fab. Remember that this was after a long day, which came after a short night's sleep, after another long day, after another short night's sleep, after a long work-week...needless to say (so why did you waste so much time saying it?), I was One Tired Queen. So I wasn't quite prepared to take in a drag show. I should also point out how seldom I find myself in the audience of a drag show. It was a very strange feeling, to be a spectator where I am so often a performer.



On the other hand, I simply am not the kind of performer that those gals were! Holatta Tymes, Nikki Starr, and Pippi Lovestocking (all three formerly of the fabled Finocchio's) were among the luminaries to grace that stage, not to mention the infamous and terrifying Buttlicka and a couple of other not-ready-for-prime-time performers...you know, that whole Trannyshack crowd. Way above my head. I mean, it's a whole different kind of entertainment from what I do...apples-and-oranges different. I was very impressed and more than a little intimidated. But I had a good time anyway. I got home after two a.m. (the drive back from Guerneville is a long one), and fell into bed, so dead-tired I couldn't even masturbate.



So then Sunday rolls up on me, and Grandmother wakes me up to go to church at 9 a.m. Then after church, we went to lunch at Baker's Square, and after that we went shopping at Target for plastic flower pots. When I finally got back home, I went straight back to bed and slept until seven that evening. Then after a few hours of television (I saw Hannibal on Showtime, and quite enjoyed it...gorier but somehow less scary than The Silence of the Lambs...the character of Hannibal Lecter was given a great deal more scope and was presented quite sympathetically, which made for a rather interesting film), I crawled back into bed at 11 and stayed there until 9 this morning.



So anyway, I'm fairly well caught up, and it's getting very late. I was just writing about something from my past, in participating in this week's Monday Memory, but I just managed to erase the whole thing somehow. That is sign that I'm too tired and should go to bed. I'll have to share my memories of learning about sex some other day.



Hugs!