"You're sure about these?" I placed the pair of electric red hot pants that I had just spent the last 20 minutes trying on and asking the opinion of both salesboiz at the West Hollywood American Apparel.
“Oh YES. They are hahhht,”one of the clerks confirmed, folding them as best one can fold such little material.
"Alllllriiight; because I've never owned shorts this short and I'm rollin' up to the bar alone and -"
"If you don't get laid in these, tonight,” he interrupted, “come back and I'll return them for you myself."
"I wasn't gonna say anything," another patron – who had happened to walk in on me in the dressing room – chimed in, "but you got a great ass."
"Uh!” I gasped. "THANK you!”
"Yeah,” he nodded. “You're THICK for a white boy."
"Mmmhmm," I slapped my own booty. “What – a way to start my weekend."
Not to mention my new life, living in West Hollywood. Six days into my residency and already there are gay people and compliments comin’ at me from every direction – whether I specifically invite them or not.
Um...I can get used to this.