Unexpected Song

            I’ve been in my temporary home in a permanent state of bliss for four months.  I can’t believe that four months ago I was schlepping my baggage—physical and emotional—up the New England coastline to Provincetown, the end of the world.  Since then, I’ve met Linda Eder, hung out with Lea DeLaria, had tea with Armistead Maupin, gawked at John Waters and Michael Cunningham, and served gallons upon gallons of cocktails, beer, and the occasional Johnny Walker Black.  I’ve been overtipped and undertipped.  And when it came the lesbians’ turn, sometimes not even tipped at all.  I’ve survived Bear Week, Family Week, Whale Watchers’ Week, Women’s Week, Circuit Boys’ Week, Baby Dyke Week, and even managed to make sixty dollars during Women of Color Week.  I’ve worked drag shows, concerts, and stand-up comic acts where only crickets could be heard.  I’ve schlepped drinks in cabaret spaces, concert halls, bars, and poolside in a very snug, very red, very small bathing suit with “PTOWN” emblazoned across the butt.  I felt awkward at first, but then two hot Aussies politely asked if they could take a picture of my bum, and suddenly all was the right with the world. 

            The stress of my old job melted in June, and I can’t even remember what stress feels like.  I’ve learned that life is too short.  Sometimes we have to throw our lives up in the air and just see where it lands.  Luckily, mind landed on the beach surrounded by half-naked men.  Sometimes, a change in course is just what is needed.  Hanging out in different places makes me appreciate the places I used to go.  Serving cocktails and food makes me appreciate the desk job.  I don’t want one, but I appreciate the people who do.  And being around entirely new people makes me appreciate and miss the ones I left behind.  They’re rarely out of mind and never out of my heart.  But it’s good, because I know they’re waiting for me when I get back.  And that makes me very lucky.

            I haven’t spilled a drink or dropped a tray yet.  And that’s saying a lot.  Because I’m clumsy.  I like my co-workers.  I even like my bosses.  And I haven’t liked a boss in eight years.  For the first time in my career, I find myself engrossed in conversations about shift pay, tipping out, schedules, and whether or not to add gratuity to a bunch of assholes that are obviously going to undertip.  I haven’t even really lost my temper with customers either.  An occasional asshole with an attitude or a dyke with an empty fanny pack is far outnumbered by very sweet lesbians in culottes or dirty-minded old men with deep pockets.  So even work is good.  Physically demanding but not mentally draining.  It’s…dare I say it…fun?

            Aside from a flighty investment banker who turned out to be an idiot at the beginning of the summer, I haven’t met any potential loves.  And that’s a good thing.  It gave me time to settle in and make a new, albeit temporary, life for myself.  I’ve had time to be alone with my thoughts.  And I never allow myself to be alone with my thoughts.  So I’ve come to a new place in life.  Cheesy but true.  At the beginning of the summer, I opened a new door.  I had no idea what the room would look like on the other side.  Turns out, the other side was just what I needed.  I’m more comfortable with myself.  Ready to open life up to someone else.  As I teeter on the edge of a new decade—I can’t be 39 forever—for the first time ever, I feel fully ready to leap headfirst into something new and exciting.  Like a relationship.

            And I misspoke before.  I said I haven’t met any potential loves.  Well I just did.  He’s kind.  Crazy handsome.  Nice eyes.  Very sweet.  Funny.  And sexy as hell.  A Southerner with an accent thicker than grits.  We sparked in a way that I haven’t felt in a long time.  It felt easy and comfortable.  But electric.  He was only to be here for a day.  He stayed five more.  I guess he liked the local flavor.  I was beyond sad when he left.  And every single time I get a text from him, I can’t help but smile.  He lives a plane ride away.  He wants me to visit him after my run in Provincetown is over.  And I’m going for it.  I’ve never even considered a long distance relationship before.  But I’m keeping an open mind.  And more importantly, I’m keeping an open heart.