July 10th, 2005

Drag becomes a drag at Ibiza...

We got up in time to have the free breakfast in the hotel dining room. I had a bagel, and two "mini" sausage biscuits, along with some juice and coffee.

I told the folks at the front desk that we had decided to stay an extra night, and asked about moving to another room with a port in it.

A little bit of drama between the workers ensued, with the desk clerk asking one of the others, "Do we have a room with Internet access in it that works?" Things that make you go, "Hmmmm." None of the billboard said, "Free High Speed Internet Access Works in Some Rooms."

After moving to the new room, and checking with Port City Java to see if they had Internet access, we headed to it. We went to the one on Market Street toward downtown, and as it turned out, they had both wired and wireless access there.

I checked in with Robert via AIM, and caught up with the news, the blogs I'm following, and my LiveJournal friends' entries. We looked at the Dell website at "this week's deals" on laptops for Joe.

Back at the room, Joe noted that the brand name of the toilet paper in our room was, "Sweet & Soft." We both liked the soft part. The sweet part? Not so much.

At some point while we were in the room, the housekeeper came barging into our room without knocking. Her face and scream were priceless, as was ours. It reminded me of the scene in E.T. where they find E.T. in the closet.

I took a nap while Joe ran out to shop a little.

We went to Applebee's for dinner, where I got the Oriental Chicken Rollup, and Joe got a bacon cheeseburger. He cut the burger in half, and gave me half. I gave him half of my wrap. We both had fries with our meal. He had two beers. I had water. Our waiter had deliciously hairy arms and legs, both of which we both approved.

We stopped back by the room so I could take a Motrin to keep my back pain in check. It's actually been not hurting the past couple of days, and I'd like to keep it that way. I ran "like a girl" through a sprinkler that was hitting the sidewalk, and Joe went spastic laughing in the car watching me.

At Costello's there was a guy from Peru playing Spanish music on an acoustical guitar. He was very, very good, and we enjoyed it immensely.

Shortly after arriving, Joe spotted this guy in the bar, whom he had met in Raleigh before, and said, "That guy is trouble. The last time I saw him, he kept bugging the shit out of me until I finally had to get ugly with him."

Tonight was to be no different. He was already slightly inebriated. He kept saying how beautiful Joe was, enumerating his qualities out loud as if he wasn't there or was a sex object. This guy was a total piece of work.

His cell phone rang (not vibrated, but rang) twice within about 15 minutes. The first call was from his ex-wife. The second call was from his ex-boyfriend. We weren't surprised about the wife as he had let us know early in his rambling that he had been married for 17 years. I did not volunteer that I had been married for 16 years.

I tried to suggest that maybe he put his phone on vibrate or silent, and perhaps even consider taking his calls outside -- or at least out of ear range of the entertainer. Clueless.

Eventually he made some comments about what he'd like to do to both of us, that he lived very, very close to the bar, and that he was very good at one particular act. Gross.

Here is one of those people that is so self-unaware. For literally more than an hour, he is getting no (and I mean absolutely none) signs from us that we are at all remotely interested in him, which we aren't, of course.

Next he starts on a pity party, which I so don't attend. Through some now green olive-smelling breath that is way too close to our faces at points, the party starts: "Nobody wants me. I don't know what's wrong. I'm bright. I'm handsome. I'm the district manager of a big department store chain, I can cook, I'm committed to monogamous relationships," etc. etc. etc. One couldn't be a better catch.

Okay, the first thing we're thinking is, "Okay gurl, we're missing just a couple of things on this list: 1) You're about 5'10" and you weigh 350-400 pounds, and 2) Your personality is overbearing.

I mean I know people "shouldn't" let something like weight be a show stopper, but even as overweight as I am, I accept the reality that it is a major turnoff for a majority of people. Get a clue.

I did call him on his bragging about being a big believer in, and supportive of, monogamous relationships. (Both Joe and I had told him that we had partners back in Raleigh, though I did not mention that my relationship was not a monogamous one.)

I asked, "If you're so big on committed relationships, why is it that you keep asking both of us to go home with you when we've told you we're both in relationships?"

No good answer. You can't have a good argument with a horny drunk. I was reminded of one of my favorite buttons: "I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person."

At one point after this, Joe went to the bathroom, and I saw this guy (he never did tell us his name) watch him from the bar, and as soon as he (Joe) was in, get up and walk to the bathroom. Joe came back a few minutes later, fuming.

"It got to that point again. I told you that the last time I saw him I had to get ugly before he would get the message. No sooner had I started to pee, he starts banging on the door, 'Joe, is that you in there? Let me in. I can take care of you.' Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Finally, I flew open the door, and yelled at him, and walked away while he was still talking."

I repeat. Clueless.

I said to Joe, "And this is the kind of guy, that even after that, he will be back over here to talk to us. Watch."

Sure enough, about 10 minutes later he comes back over breathing olive breath all over us again, and talking about following us back to our hotel room (we'd lied about where we were staying, of course), where Joe would lie in one bed, and I would lie in another, and he'd lie on the floor between the beds, and take turns, back and forth doing that disgusting act he said he was so good at earlier. I repeat: gross!

Needless to say, we high-tailed it out of there shortly after that. We walked around downtown a little looking for an ice cream shop that might be open -- no luck.

While walking, we came across an alley that looked like a short cut, and next to which was a cop getting out of his squad car.

"Is this alley safe to walk down?" I asked.

"Of course it is; you're in Wilmington," he responded.

Well, la-dee fucking dah.

We went to Ibiza's just before midnight -- in time to see their drag show.

A totally hot guy was walking around there, and Joe and him ended up meeting, and talking, out on the indoor balcony there. All the guy would say was that he was in "law," and from Tennessee. He and Joe played tag, in a cat-and-mouse kind of way, for the rest of the evening, but nothing ever came of it.

The drag show was just alright. They don't really have a "stage" there, so the show was basically on the dance floor. Along one wall, which most of the time was the "back wall" (behind the performers) there was a bench built into the wall, and this straight (supposedly) couple sat on it, totally making out.

And when I say "making out," I mean sucking face like there was no tomorrow, stopping when the spot light went off them (it would shine on them around/behind the performer when they turned it right on her), and starting up ravenously as soon as the light came back on them, then his hands rubbing all over her breasts, legs, crotch, etc.

The girl was a little on the chunky side, and he had tattoos all over his arms. I think he thought he was showing off his "masculinity." I think most of the audience was thinking, "What a closet case."

At one point, he sat facing out into the crowd, pulled her between his legs with her back to the audience, reached around to her ass, pulled up her skirt to reveal no panties and her ass crack while rubbing his finger along it, and it shining like the big, white moon it was. It got so bad and gross at that point that management of the bar ran over to them and told them, presumably, to "get a room." Nasty.

We left there probably at around 1:45, I'd say, and stopped back by Costello's, where it was mostly straight people at this point. Not that there's anything wrong with straight people. Bless their hearts.

We stayed there maybe 15 minutes, and then left.