A Day of Beauty

I had my first appointment at a "skin treatment salon" the other day. This was prompted by one reason; how I wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I blurt out "I'm not getting any younger!" These outbursts are based on the simple fact that gay guys of a "certain age" need to have some sort of skin care regimen, like older women who start to wear those stupid hats. When hitting a certain age, gay men need to start taking care of their skin. No one needs to see a wrinkled Steve, still peddling his used vacuum cleaner bag face on Grindr. Not that there are not men like that on there right now. Not that I would know... I'm a Christian.

 

Yesterday was my first of three treatments. A hydra facial with a massage and moisturizer. I arrived and was immediately looked upon as if I was there to fix the air-conditioning. A look that could only be explained as confusion as to why a large bearded man was in their waiting room. Then I was assigned to a thick lady named "Pam." Said with that loud declaration, P-A-M. "Hi, I'm PAM!" she said as she pondered at my beard wondering if the hydrafacial device would even work on my enormous amount of extra hair attached to my face. I normally attempt to avoid women like PAM, especially if their name is PAM. After explaining my large and costly face care regimen, I received a blank stare back, making me release PAM had never heard of the costly Philosophy brand of face care products. Instead she responded with "Honey... I don't think we have a robe your size?!"

This is the exact moment I realized I was in the wrong place for my... Sensibilities. I offered to just strip to my undershirt and hop on the table. Soon PAM was attacking my face with soothing lotions. This is when PAM  decided to make conversation. "So? Do you have a wife and kids?" She asked. I would of rolled my eyes if they weren't covered in lavender oil. I'm a bearded guy that just explained he bought $60 face cream, and you're asking if I have a wife?

I learned that it truly is the professional you choose to make any experience worth it. Next time see if the waiting room has a copy of GQ and Fitness. 
 

This Grill is on Grindr

A while back I went to a diner in downtown Denver. Now you may know, but I have a passion for diners. I could seriously eat every meal for weeks on end in a diner. And, I have.  Remember when I was on a date with that Olympic Swimmer at a Diner and the grill at the diner caught on fire? That was October, 2014. You can read the blog post on how I sang "This-Grill-is-on-Fire!"  That was Denver Diner. This week the media announced that the Denver Diner, just the best damn diner on the planet, has completed their post-fire reconstruction, and are set to re-open later this week.

This makes for a very happy Steve. Countless number of times I have said "Man, this would be a great time to sit in the Denver Diner.... damn it!" Soon, the best damn diner on the planet will reopen its doors. I will be there. Asking for pancakes. Then I won't have to mess around with other greasy spoons. Like the one I was dining in a while back when I went to a diner in downtown Denver....

The diner, I dined with, whilst I waited for Denver Diner to repaint, and run one of those five-fingered microfiber things through the mini-blinds, was called Sam's Number 3. Presumably because there are two other Sam's. Maybe it is a generational suffix? Either way, I went in with couple of friends after hanging out in the "theater district" of Denver. Upon being seated,  we were promptly ignored.  As my norm, I cranked open Grindr. Quickly I received Grindr service. A guy popped up with the ubiquitous "Hey."  After finally having the waiter tear himself await from the bar, we got our order in. Then waited, what seemed to be a lifetime, for our food. The same dude, popped up on Grindr. "Hey!" He seemed familiar so I replied, How YOU doin'?" Quickly, as I waited for the server to finally notice that my Diet Coke glass had tumbleweeds blowing through it, he popped up. "Your[sp] hot." I looked again at his profile pic. He seemed familiar because he was our lame-ass waiter.

Our server was ignoring his tables to hit on guys on Grindr. He then hit on one of his tables, he was ignoring.  I showed my table mates. "Ask him for my ranch he said he'd bring." So, I did. I asked if I could have Ranch Dressing, and a refill of my Diet Coke. I watched as he turned to face me. Then, slowly slid off of his bar stool and went back to the kitchen. Returning with our requested items. The service was awful before then. The service didn't much improve after that.

Let us just say I am excited for the re-opening of the best damn diner on the planet, Denver Diner. 

Got a Long List of Ex Lovers...

Apparently, it was ex-boyfriend week here around the old' Stevie B blog. This is the time when all of Steve's ex-boyfriends contact Steve, just to ensure he is still alive.

The US Swim team, Olympic swimmer was in contact. Yes, he's happy with the fellow hottie he left me for, just fighting with him this week,  and wanted to say "Hi!" to me.

The skinny-ginger from Colorado State University, drunk-texted me in the middle of the night to re-declare his love for me. If you remember, he was the one I woke up to one morning, staring at me, stating that if he can't get a monogamous commitment he was out.  I'm sure you know my answer. He grabbed his Express Tote Bag, and ran. Jim Beam had apparently convinced him otherwise.

Next was the muscled Lebanese, University of Colorado Volleyball player. He just let me know that he's going to study in Prague. That being petrified of his hotness, and thus avoiding him, probably was not the best technic in flirting.  

The blonde from Colorado School of Mines, just missed dialed me, thinking it was his Professor Steve, not the creepy 43 year old that sodomized him in his Jeep Liberty.

Then, there was the big Ex. He was in contact to announce that he is officially a Realtor, with his own agency. I couldn't tell if is was a general announcement, or a sales pitch. Either way, I believe it's a great idea to have your Ex, help buy a house.... sure. He then invited me to a Fetish Party he was hosting. Also a great idea to attend a play party hosted by your still somewhat questionably hostile Ex... sure.

Well... that was my week. My tattered ego and I are glad it is over.