Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Viva la Dumpster Girls!

So it's my first day as a black woman, and I feel great.
By which I mean-- Joan, the Dominican dishwasher at Craig and Sally's braided my hair like a beautiful black chick. Or gangly basketball playing/ break-dance-attempting white chick.

"Soo...how was the Disney Cruise?" asks Ryan, and I know I'll have no trouble catching a tourist-loving cab driver's attention.
Luckily for me, I have my stud of a loverman to pick me up in our death wish of a 1990 Jeep Wrangler.
Made out of mostly wood and rust (couple a' wheels), the Red Beast gets us to town--coasting down hill and peddling Flinstone style up-hill. Oh dear god I hope I live.
I guess it beats my days hitch-hiking to town in the back of pick-ups or shotgun with old island ladies worried about my 'young white girl ways'.

As for work down here, I'm a business lesbian from the 80's.
At least thats what my uniform would have you believe. Craig and Sally's is a finer-dining award winning wine bar that still maintains it's small island town feel in Frenchtown. And it's making me a fat kid/ wino on the daily.

The uniform is the worst past about the job and actually, I hear its a step up from what once were Hawiian shirts. If that were the current uniform, I would be ulternate universing my first job at the Highland House when I was 14, and most likely begin a deep level of self-loathing.

Craig is incredibly dry-humored and crotchety, mostly. Mumbling and stumbling around the restaurant blurting out random "beep"'s if you're in his way but somehow landed his total babe of a wife. that Sassy Sally is a straight Trip.
When she misunderstood some directions I told her to Andrew's house (our ex-co-worker went missing in the abyss of a crack binge, we're pretty sure,--but that's another story), she came back screaming she was going to "fucking kill" me.
I laughed nervously and kept my distance but the next day she was singing Eminem and telling me about meeting her first husband high on LSD at a Jefferson Airplane concert.
All's well that ends well. Nothing but love for that self-proclaimed "lazy slut".

The staff at Craig and Sally's has become like a strange little island family for me. BJ- presently known as Beejwah-is a hotshot chef out of NYC, France and someplace in Asia filled with Asians. At 6'6" and 300 lbs he's a cutiepatootie with a heart of honey.
Treva is my main squeeze- that hot-blooded lovaman outta New Orleans--buying me goldshallgger and feeding me chocolate. Obviously the love is there. Too bad his boyfriend Patrick stands in the way. And his apathy for all vaginas.
RyGuy is the fellow cheesehead in the house. doncha know. He loves fine wine, singing Disney songs while plating food and random sex with men.
Cortney is the mama hen/rockstar of the place. She runs circles around us and still pours us glasses of Vueve at the end of the night, making us laugh with her stories of adolescent Portland years stealing cars and eating mushrooms.
Bryan is a phenomenal chef and the hairest man I've ever seen. We call him Chewy (Chewbaka) for short.He threw a party at his house a couple weeks ago where I promised to shave his chest bare inorder to make him irresitable to all womenkind. Instead I got drunk, half-naked, and dove head-first into the chocolate foundue fountain.
I don't think I'm invited to any more parties.
Rachel is a 22 year old sweetheart out of Nebraska. Get that booty out on a dance floor and I see why we were meant to be friends. That, and our mutual addiction to chocolate.
Then there is the recent freak-a-deak addition known as Shannon. Lord bless her but girl is a freakkk. That's all I'm going to comment on in respect of most family and friends reading this. No Shannon, we will not have a threesome with you. But I think you're pretty neat.
All in all, its a strange, dysfunctanal, but ridiculously loving (oftentimes bordering perverted) little family. A twisted home away from a twisted home.


As far as island living goes--we really are all here, because we're not all there.
My recent little god-send in a form of a 5 foot nothin tom-boy is Dannielle, that crazy lil Kook. The first night I met her at Betsy's I thought she was your run of the mill crackhead type. I was amused but skeptical.
Turns out it's just her raging ADD. Pretty sure she's the funniest man, woman or child on island. We went to Maegan's beach, cruising to Salt n Peppa and chugging white russians. Once there, the boys went their seperate ways and we stayed behind confirming our female friendship. Danielle began vomitting over the side of the picnic table, gagging on her jalepeno popper breakfast declaring, "I'm. still. having. fun" inbetween ralphs.
Friendship confirmed.

Party on Wayne. Party on Garth.