I Can Explain...Really

Those of you who saw Gaby's latest post saw a portion of the mess I made in the back room this morning. Unfortunately, this is part of an ongoing thing that he refers to as "cleaning house," and I refer to as "hiding my stuff." It started when he moved in and hid my W-2s and other important tax documents in a cardboard box under a desk.
The other night he asked me if I had seen his gardening tools left out in the front yard. When I said yes, he asked me why I hadn't moved them. I didn't answer, but the reason was because I didn't want to put him through the frustration of not being able to find them. Besides, how was I to know he didn't leave them there on purpose? What if he wasn't finished using them?
We also have different ideas about where things go. To me the Tinactin goes in the shelf above the bed where I can reach it when I'm putting on my socks. Same for the Diprolene. He thinks they should go on top of the dresser, across the room and out of reach. I don't know why. I also think that my blue comb should go on the dresser instead of in the shaving kit in the bathroom cabinet where I always find it after searching in more reasonable places.

This morning, when I got home from work, I knew it wouldn't be easy for me to sleep, so I took a sleeping pill. While I was waiting for it to kick in, I decided to take some measurements to see how many 2x4s I would need for the new closet/desk.
When I'm looking for something, I follow a certain routine: First, I look where I last saw it. It doesn't matter if it's been three months since it was on the dining room table, that's still the first place I will look. The last time I saw the measuring tape, it was on the computer desk. It wasn't there, nor was it next to the TV, which is another place I saw it recently.
Second I will look where it belongs. It was not in the wire rack in the utility room, nor was it in the drawer under the TV.
Thirdly, I will look where Gaby thinks it goes. Usually I have to ask him where that might be, but today he was asleep. I assumed that he would think it should be in the garage, but I didn't want to go out there, so I skipped to step four, which is to wander around the house hoping I might just spot it.
Failing that, step five is to tear up the house while cursing. I got started on this, pulling out drawers and their contents, moving stuff around on the computer desk and in the utility room, but then the sleeping pill started to kick in, and I went to bed.
When I got up, all the messes had been cleaned up. I asked Gaby where the measuring tape was. He didn't know. I grabbed the keys and went out to the studio. There it was on the desk, right where I had put it a few days ago. Now I'm feeling a bit foolish, and I owe Gaby an apology.

Mickey's Musings: Why I Support Hate Crimes Legislation

Check out this excellent article on Hate Crimes legeslation:
Mickey's Musings: Why I Support Hate Crimes Legislation

Head Start

Gaby tore out the closet in the back room (aka the TV room, the red room), opening up the space for the future computer desk/broom closet. Somehow he managed to do it without waking me up. He removed the double sliding door, the wall around it, and moved in a desk, ran phone lines across the room, and set up the computer--all without making a sound. I love this guy.
Next step is to frame the broom closet and upper cabinets, put in the floor, sheetrock, paint, and install the built in desk and shelves. Let's see how quiet he can be with a hammer.

Announcement

I got a call from The Oklahoma Gazette on Sunday afternoon. They're going to publish the letter to the editer I wrote back in March. (See the post from March 30.) That's exciting, but I'm really looking forward to some feedback. I guess I'll be checking the editorial page over the next several weeks to see if I made any kind of impact.

Addendum 6-17: It came out in today's issue on page 8.

A Conversation at Work

Garris, Anthony, and myself out in front of the hotel at shift change:

Me: "Did you meet Mr. Dunham today?"
Anthony: "Who?"
Me: "Payton Dunham. He's the location manager for the movie. We know each other."
Anthony: "No, I didn't meet him, but I saw his card all over the hotel."
Me: "Yeah, I was telling a few people to say hi for me. We used to go to school together."
Anthony: "Well, I didn't meet him, but Casey Affleck is a dickhead."
Garris: (laughing) "Oh, yeah?"
Anthony: "I was checking in a guest while they were filming, and I said, 'Good evening! How are you?', and Casey Affleck turns around and says, 'Shhhh!' I said, 'Don't shush me! I'm doing my job. You don't pay my salary!' He gives me this (demonstrates an appalled look). Then later he's buying some aspirin, and I make a little joke, and he looks at me like this (a condescening smirk), and as I'm handing him his change he says, 'Thanks, Slick,' and walks off. What a jerk."

Funny, but I don't think Anthony is aware of his own contribution to this story.

Grace and Small Talk

A couple from Florida stayed at the hotel this week. My attention was first aroused when one of them, a very handsome fellow, came down with their dog, a prince charles. The second morning that they were here, I got to tell him that that was the same breed of dog my partner had originally wanted before he got the schnauzer. That evening he introduced me to his partner. I hoped for a chance to visit with them, so I offered them the tour of the hotel. They thanked me, said they'd think about it, but went on to bed a bit later.
Last night I thought I finally had a chance to talk. They got in late, and sat out on the patio outside the bar for an evening smoke. I had just finished my major task for the evening, and had a few minutes, so I walked over and asked, "Do you guys mind if I join you?" They looked at me as if I'd offered them a booger. I sat down anyway.
One of them was explaining to the other plans for an event they were going to, and they pretty much ignored me for a couple of minutes. Then the other asked me how I was doing tonight, and I said that it just felt good to sit down for a minute. Hindsight tells me that at this point I could have asked them about their trip home the next day, and asked if the dog was a good traveler, etc. But I was feeling decidedly unwelcome and my thoughts didn't go that direction. They immediately resumed their previous conversation, and after a minute or two, I got up to pick up some glasses and trash left on a nearby table, and left them alone.

It put me in mind of another situation out at the club a couple of years ago, in which I saw a young fellow I knew sitting at a table talking to another young man. I walked over and said hi, and his response was, "Do you mind??? We're having a PRIVate conversation!" I was dumbfounded, and retreated, but in all honesty this is only the most shocking example of the way some people act at the club. Unfortunately, a lot of guys like to make a show of snubbing other people.
So the question in my mind tonight is, Why is it so hard for gay guys to be gracious?
That situation should have gone like this:
Me: Good evening, K. How are you?
K: Hey, there! I'm doing fine. How 'bout yourself?
Me: Not bad.
K: This is my friend C.
Me: Hello, C. I'm Ron. (handshake)
C: Hello, Ron.
K: Hey, listen, Ron. Could you excuse us? We're in the middle of something.
Me: Sure, no problem.
K: Thanks. We'll try to catch up with you later.
Me: Ok. Nice to meet you, C.
C: Likewise, Ron. (handshake)
Me: (pat K on back, leave)
Now, is that so hard? Everyone got what they wanted, and no one went away feeling like the other was a dickhead.

Pool Party

One of our managers (the AFOM, which makes him my boss' boss) likes to throw pool parties at his house during the summer. The guest list includes present and former hotel employees, and a few other friends. The party on Sunday night was the first of the season, and it was also the first time that I had no scheduling conflict, so Gaby and I were able to go. We wound up staying for 6½ hours, leaving at 3am.

We found one of the couples there to be amusing. They were in the "other friends" category. She was a very pretty young lady with sandy hair and a perfect figure, who kept complaining about being fat. The more she drank, the more politically polarized she became. Anyone who had voted for Obama was her friend; anyone who didn't was an object of scorn. She didn't know what to do with us because Gaby can't vote, and I voted for Obama in spite of being a Republican. I suspect that her political leanings have very little to do with actual issues, and more to do with the President's rock star status.

Her young man was very attractive, though we think he knew it. We couldn't help but stare, and he noticed. The drunker he got, the more he appreciated being appreciated. He kept posing for my camera, and every time he looked me in the eye, he grinned mischievously, as if to say, "I know you want me." He's way too young, but I did enjoy looking.

Our AFOM has a pretty nice house. Like ours, it has a lot of partially finished/partially started remodeling and improvement projects going. He's got a lot of ideas if he can just get around to them.

He also has four labradors (they're not all his, but I didn't hear the stories behind them) who enjoyed the party as much as everyone else. One of them, Thomas, is addicted to fetch. At first he was bringing us a nasty rope toy, but when AFOM threw it over the fence, he found a stick in the yard, and now that was his new favorite toy. We had a lot of fun teasing him by hiding it, pretending to throw it, and all the other ways one plays with a dog's brain. Once, I pretended to throw it in the pool, but threw ice instead. He saw the splash and dove right in. The poor thing spent the next several minutes swimming laps looking for his stick.

Although the water was cold, there was a whole lot of swimming going on through the wee hours of the morning. At one point we were joined by a toad which had to be rescued from the dogs. All in all, we had a terrific time, and I can't wait till the next one.