10
Aug
08

A Day at Blond Beach

Sam and I went to Laguna Beach today, to West beach, the ‘other’ gay section of beach since the closing of the Boom Boom Room. The funny news is on our way there, we noticed that the now closed Boom Boom Room is being renovated and converted into – wait for it – The DNC HQ.

If you’ve read me at all, you know that blond men make me giggle like a fraternity pledge. I prefer to bring my own blond (BYOB) wherever I go, but Laguna Beach is fantastic if you like blondes of any sex. There was a point when Sam and I were crossing the street to go to Avila’s El Ranchito (a.k.a. El Coyote Del Mar), when there were no fewer than a dozen blond guys in sight (and all about 23 which doesn’t hurt either). It was like a harmonic convergence of peroxide proportions. I turned to Sam, who saw my face light up, and said, “Oh my God, it’s like heaven,” but I didn’t sound like the tired old chicken hawk that you probably just heard in your head. No, really. I didn’t.

Anyhow.

We went inside, where we were greeted and seated by another uber blond tyke with a faraway, or hung over, stare and a shag of cornsilk on his head not unlike the lovely model hither adjacent.

Our waiter, Joseph, was not blond or gay, but couldn’t have been much hotter, unless he was an Olympic gymnast, in which case he would not have been our waiter, or we would have been in Beijing. But I digress. He was chipper but kinda formal, calling us ‘Sir’ repeatedly, which –outside of the context of a leather bar – is like driving daggers into the heart of a 40-year old gay man. After the first disappointing round of house margaritas (about which Joseph was less than enthusiastic), we upgraded the second round to Cadillac and he actually said, “I tried to tell ya, Bro.”

Bro.

Like we didn’t already have wood. Besides, minutes earlier he was calling us Sir.

No matter. Sam and I agreed that he was a total babe and could do no wrong, so when the check came, I couldn’t help myself. I tipped him 20% and scrawled, “YER HOT BRO” on the check. We left the restaurant and saw him showing the check to a waitress, both laughing. He saw us outside on the corner and gave us the “Hang Loose” sign and a big smile. The best part? That he was straight, and so damn cool.

Later on the beach, we played in the surf, and got some sun, where we saw:

Guys A&B choosing a spot on the beach. Guy A stops in a spot about 10 feet equidistant from four or five towels; a decent spot.

Guy A: “How about here?”

Guy B: “Great, as long as the guy behind us doesn’t mind havin’ to look at you.”

Guy A: “Well, if I can’t see the ocean, what’s the point?”

Bronson: “Sam, slug me if I ever talk to you like that.”

Hope you had a great weekend. xo, B

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