Riggle me this, Spirit Fingers.

I love riding on airplanes, but I have really awful luck. Generally speaking, I’m a pretty small person. I mean, I know that I have a lot of muscle, but I mean, come on, I’m not very big. And if you don’t know what I look like, well, that sucks for you. Just know that 6’0” 170lbs person isn’t very big.

As we all know, airplane seats are tiny. Jetblue isn’t so bad because they’ve actually added room, and until today, I thought Jetblue was lying. Today, I took a flight on Spirit Airlines. First of all, they charge for everything. And it’s a joke to them. they make a reference at the beginning of the flight that they offer smiles for free. The captain even said, “And today we’re offering a special deal, for every smile you give us, we’ll give you two in return. Here at Spirit, we don’t charge for smiles, but we charge for everything else.” Hmmm. I don’t see that getting picked up anytime soon as some genius marketing tag line. But maybe I should write a letter to let them know. Maybe they should add, “We’re not happy unless you’re unhappy.”

But, I digress. Back to the size of seats. Until today, I had thought that Jetblue was lying about the extra room. Jetblue feels like the spacious countryside compared to Spirit Airlines. There’s maybe about 7” of space between the back of one seat and the front side of the seat you get. And forget about have room on the actual seat. I mean, if my butt fits snuggly in the seat, it’s small, and I have a big ass, people. I’m serious. I have a 28” waist and have to wear 31” jeans for a reason, and it’s not to sag them to my knees, either. So lack of space is the first problem.

Secondly, something I ALWAYS have to deal with on a plane is that in my neighboring seats are the largest people alive. Notice that I didn’t say fat. Large people sometimes are just large people. Today on my flight, I got to sit next to two rather large latin men. I call them men, but that’s just because they are males. In reality, they were boys. Children of a nice age of, I’d guess early twenties; immature beyond belief and just annoying. However, they were HUGE. I saw them get on the plane and just knew they were in my row (for clarity purposes, I should tell you that I had a window seat.) The first guy got on and looked about 6’5”. That’s tall. And weighed a good 225lbs. Again, not fat, but just a large person. And his friend got on just behind him was about a good two inches taller and weighed a solid twenty pounds more. And yes, I was right! They both had to have the seats in my row.

So this is how it went down. First they asked if one of them could have the window. I declined, only because they wanted me to sit between them. Yeah, right, like I’m that stupid. Secondly, they were the type of guys who say the word “bro” but don’t really pronounce it correctly. They say, “bra.” This was incredibly fun for me from the beginning. Once they sat down, I thought to myself, “I’ll just go to sleep and everything will be ok.” Wrong. When there is no room to get comfortable for a small person, there’s even less room for a large person. The guy in the middle seat really had no room for anything, but I eventually had to ask him to remove his extremities from my seat, because let’s be real, it’s my seat, not his, so regardless of how much room he doesn’t have, he isn’t entitled to what I paid for, even if I’m not using it.

So, I tried to sleep, to no avail, not because of lack of space but because they kept saying things like, “Quit touching my leg with yours, faggot,” “Bra, don’t touch me, I’m not your boyfriend,” “ I wish we had just bought out this whole row so we didn’t have to be like a gay couple cramped in here.” I was kinda surprised, but not really. I mean, they had Neanderthal written all over their faces. So, I mean, when you’re locked into a space smaller than the overhead compartment by two huge looking jock guys, who are not only bigger than you, but most likely have a scathing temper, it’s difficult to make a stand. I’m not a fighter, so I say nothing. In retrospect, I probably should have stood up for myself, but I mean, I had three hours facing me next to these douchebags. But I didn’t the next best thing.

I opened up my laptop and began writing, but what I forgot is that the main picture on my screen is a picture of me and my boyfriend. Score one for the faggot! I forgot all about it. So it gave me an idea. I opened up my photo section of my computer and went to work on a compilation video I’ve been working on of me and my boyfriend. It’s nothing but pictures of just the two of us, and yes, pictures of us kissing. I figured, hey, why not let them know subtly that I’m gay and they suck, in the really bad way.

So the guy sitting next to me practically leans over and puts his head smack in front of my screen. He said to me, “Bra, is that your boyfriend?” I replied yes, then he leaned over and said something to his friend, leaned back to me and said, “That’s cool, Bra.”


They didn’t say another word to me, and pretty much gave me even more room after that.

Riggle me that, Spirit Airline Assholes!

Riggle me this, FedEx Driver

So, today one of the most horrible fears of mine almost came true. I almost lost the life of my wonderful boyfriend, Matt in a near fatal collision.

Let me explain.

Today we went to the gym like normal, perhaps a little bit later in the day than we had originally planned. Upon leaving the gym on 38th St, we decided to head over to the holiday market in Bryant Park looking for fun gifts and whatnot. So we leave the gym and head towards Broadway.

Once at the intersection, we waited for the light to change and to get the solid white light of the pedestrian to know that we had the right of way to cross the street. We got the light and began heading into the street when out of nowhere, a fedex truck comes flying around the corner and nearly hits us both, actually hitting Matt's hand.

We both jumped back to the sidewalk in shock. I mean, we live in NYC, it's not uncommon to have cars almost hit you, but this was WAY closer than it's ever been for either one of us. I mean, my life flashed before my eyes and that truck wasn't as close to me as it was Matt. I even found myself trying to pull him back from the street, even though his instincts were quicker than mine and he was already back on the curb.

Then Matt took off down the street yelling at the driver, who was stopped at the next light. I followed suit and screamed just as loud as Matt. It was like I was outside of my body watching myself scream at the prick who had almost drastically changed my life. The driver got out of the car and while he tried to calm things down so he wouldn't get into trouble by saying that he "honked his horn as he made the turn" (that never happened, btw, there was no horn honking for once in the history of NYC driving) I took a photo of his license plate with my phone. Thank GOD for technology.

I even recall getting in the mans face and yelling, "see that plate? that number is going to the police. Say goodbye to your job!" yes, this might all sound extreme, but I have to ask you, what would you do in my situation to someone who may have killed your partner. And while I hate that word, it makes the most sense to use it right now. Because if you're married, that person is, in fact, your partner. And that person, Matt, is my partner. We've been through too much good and bad not to be considered as such and this man just about drove over all of my own personal dreams. I was PISSED!

So, leaving the scene of a scared man, Matt and I still shaking, I dialed the number to FedEX to make a formal complaint before I called the police (i ended up not calling the police because of the phone call I made to fedex). I received a polite young lady on the phone who audibly gasped when I told her what had happened. She immediately tried to apologize and console me by telling me that she completely understood my anger and assured me that this would all be dealt with. She had to fill out a formal complaint, which would be sent to the station in which he worked, and then took all of my information in which to follow up, and also assured me that this man would be immediately suspended, if not removed from their employment.

That's when I started feeling bad. I didn't want the guy to lose his job. I didn't want to be the cause of someone getting fired around the holidays. But, then I hung up the phone, still shaking from the ordeal and it hit me; Matt could have died. He could have been lying in the street under a FedEx truck and then what? A thought that I shudder to even think about.


At that moment, I knew I did the right thing by calling. And if I had it to do all over again, I'd still chose to call. In the moments after I hung up the phone, it hit me hard at how close Matt came to getting hit by a truck. My world would be over. Even now as I think of it, it's difficult to hold back tears and be sad, but as sad as that thought makes me, I'm equally grateful that he is fine.

And maybe I should have called the police, but I"m happy with what I did today. It's unusual of me to stand up for anything, but it came so easily to me today that I know what I did was right, and luckily Matt is ok. :)

Riggle me this, Really?

The other day, I was on the train heading downtown. I got in and sat down. On one side of me, there was one empty seat. On the other side there were three empty seats. I was really comfortable and peacefully listening to my ipod. It was a pretty good day so far.
Until some asshole got on the train.

This douchebag had his sunglasses on still, because you know how bright the lights are on the subway. And then decided to take up all three seats next to me. And this guy legit needed two, but took up three because he needed to spread his legs out to each side as far as they would go.

OK pause. What gives, guys? Why do you need to have your legs as wide apart as they will go when you sit? Are you airing out your tiny peenie? Or are you that insecure in your own masculinity tat you need to protect yourself from touching anyone else around you? I don't get it.

Anywho, back to the d-bag. He sits down, excuse me, postulates almost an entire row of seats, and begins CHOMPING on his gum. I'm a gum chewer and I understand that sometimes you make noise when you chew. However, this guy's mouth was totally open and he was destroying his gum. He actually almost looked like some sort of farm animal, namely a cow or a llama, and just went to town on this crap in his mouth. It was annoying. So, I did what anyone would do, I just turned up my music to ignore him, but no such luck. Rather than blast my ear drums out, I decided to keep my music low and just deal.

Oh and did I mention that two babies on the train were screaming their heads off, too? Because they were. Keep that in mind for this next part.


As we were nearing my station of departure, the man turns to me and says, between chomps, "Can you turn down your music, it's really annoying?" WHAAAATTTTTTTTTTTT???

I didn't know what to do or say. I mean, are you freaking kidding me with this? And granted, there were only about 30 more seconds until we were at the station I needed to leave from, so I just turned and looked at him with my bitchy stare, turned back to my original direction and turned my music up. Fuck you asshole!


Riggle me that.

Riggle me this, WTF?!?

Ok, so the worst day of the week happened yesterday.


I was at work and it felt like it was the day of me getting the shit beaten out of myself. Within the first few minutes I dropped a full bottle of wine on my head. So now I have the biggest bump on my head ever. Then, about thirty minutes later, I banged my knee into a speed well on the bar, but then made it worse while putting things away in our keg room and I twisted that same knee.

So far, it wasn't so wonderful. BUt it kept going.

I then was putting something away behind the bar, and while I was crouched down, three glasses fell off the bar and hit my back. So, at this point, I've hurt my head, my knee, and my back. Awesome, right?

Then, I broke a glass at one end of the bar, while someone else broke one at the service bar area. I cleaned up my own spill without a problem, then while I was cleaning up the other broken glass, a small sliver cut my hand open. AMAZING! This was turning out to be the best day ever.

SO I leave the bar to clean up my hand and when I come back to the bar, one of the servers was just leaned up against the bar and just took one look at me and punched me in the chest. Not hard, but hard enough to throw me off my balance and piss me off. I flipped out. I started speaking incredibly loud at him. "DO NOT TOUCH ME! Don't ever punch me like that."

His response was, "Man you're just so fit, I wanted to know what it was like to just punch you." WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT???? are you kidding me with this? For real? He just said that?

SO I said to him, "That's insane, you just punched me."

To which he says, "I'm sorry I thought you could handle it."

Again, WHAAAAAAAAT???? SO I just say to him, "That's not the point, but you just threw me off my balance and scared the fuck out of me. Don't ever touch me again."


I"M sure the conversation was a little bit different than what I just wrote, but I was so angry that I can't remember all of it. BUt I mean, come on! You don't just punch someone. I mean, I used to have an understanding with one Miss Mattie Bugg and she punched me all the time, but it was just for fun and play. I don't like this guy to begin with and so the fact he just punched me wasn't going to cement our friendship.


But then a few minutes later, a girl server came up to me and said, "Steven, I've never seen you reprimand someone before. THat was scary!"

And a few other male servers told me that I was going to actually punch the guy back. They thought it was just going to be a big ole bar brawl. HAHA


I mean, I never get really mad, but seriously, you fucking punched me. What did you expect. I suspect the guy was drunk, or on something, but who just goes off and hits someone else?

Riggle me that!

Riggle me this, A-list=Asshole

So much has been going on and I just haven't had the time write anything about it.


So this past Monday night, I worked this event for a benefit for the Ali Forney center. The host of the evening invited me and Matt to bartend for the entire event. It was a wonderful event that helps out a really great cause and I was truly honored to be a part of the entire thing.

I didn't really know what to expect when I got there, but it turns out they found a liquor sponsor to donate a product for the event. GIVEN, pronounced jee-vahn. The man who created this product even decided to be there for the event to make sure things went well. This liqueur is a combination of Tequilla, lime juice, and sauvignon blanc grapes. Sounds gross right? Well, it was not so bad, but it ended up being kinda disgusting after the second or third drink.

So we get there to bartend for the green room before and during the show, and then pour drinks for the after party. Sounds simple enough, and everything was going so well until around eight o'clock, when we had been there for a few hours already, two new bartenders show up that had been hired by the guy with the alcohol. I was stumped. What I didn't really understand was if the guy who owned the alcohol was going to his his own people to run the event, why did I have to be there at all? I didn't mind, but it was just one of those things. Ya know?

So, it was a guy and a girl. Horribly stupid and just ignorant. The guy was someone who works through model bartenders. If you have never heard of this, check out the website (you have to google it because I refuse to support the site through my own.).
It's basically a site dedicated to catering events that need bartenders, but if you want someone pretty, then you go through them to hire the models who like to call themselves "bartenders." Basically just pretty people trying to do something that other people do for a living.

And yes, this guy was gorgeous, but a total tool. Yes, I said that lovely term from the nineties; tool. He was the complete embodied definition of this word, in slang form. He just kept talking about what he knew about spirits in general, and how he works for this model bartender thing, and blah blah blah. Keep in mind he kept explaining our product to people incorrectly. But then the pinnacle moment came when he, once again, was explaining what he was doing with his life, defined himself as a "mixologist."


My jaw hit the floor. WHHAAAAAAAAAAAT???? I had three reactions to this. 1. In my head, I punched him in the face. And thinking about it again, I mentally punched him in the face again. 2. I had to wonder if he even knew what that word meant. And 3. I wanted to lean over and say, "Sweetie, I know you think you have a big dick, but um, no."

I mean, for real.


But, the night got even better!

Two cast members from the mis-hit show, the A-list, on LOGO, were there to help with the event. Ryan, a successful hair stylist, and TJ, his assistant. If you don't watch the show, you're really not missing anything, but to recap quickly, these two are very outspoken, especially TJ, and they also seem to have taken on the roles of the dictators of public etiquette. They tell just about everyone on the show how to behave in public. So, from watching the show, I had originally determined that Ryan and TJ were somehow redeemable. Then they showed up in public. Ryan still isn't so bad. But TJ. FOr Real. Let's discuss.

There were several moments when a few broadway stars were warming up in the green room and all TJ could say to one of his friends was, "this is my hell. I can't believe I have to sit through this shit." WHAT? Then standing outside of the performance space and talking shit to anyone who would listen about the people on stage performing. WHAT WHAT? and then overall just being a catty bitch to everyone. I mean I couldn't believe it. I really felt like the show tried so hard to say "look everyone, this is the rich gay life that you should want." Well, those people are assholes. And if that's the rich gay life, I don't want it. I'd rather just be poor and happy.

And where do you get off criticizing broadway performers who just want to help make a difference in the world? People are utilizing their talents to make things better. And what are you doing, TJ? You're an assistant. You organize someone else's fabulous life and because you're loud and obnoxious, you landed yourself on television. Good for you! You've made a living just riding on the coattails of someone else, and someone that makes you entitled, right? I mean, that's what your behavior tells everyone. So, grow the fuck up, because no one gives a shit how many parties you get into, or how many people know who you are, you are still a trashy human being who doesn't know the first thing about humanity.


So on that happy note, I hope you all go out into the world and spread happiness!!!