On Sex

Oh QuestionableContent. You are like Nervana for whiny people.

Gay guys: Quit hitting on me. Yes, I live in midtown. No, I'm not gay. Sur-fucking-prise. I need a sign or something - "Ben: for the ladies". Anyway, you motherfuckers make me blush. Do you realize how much guys hate blushing? It's like, something we can't control, plus a sign of emotion. These are two things guys don't work well with, emotion and lack of control.

Anyway, I really don't know what to say when you use your Omega-Gay-Flirtation-Technique. I'm flattered, of course, 'cause I'm just a random guy who hasn't washed the shorts and shirt he's wearing for the past week. Is it the mohawk?

Anyway part two: So everyone tips very well, and I have to deal with one or two random non-regulars flirting with me each day. Not that bad, I guess. The regulars seem to have gotten a handle on my way conservative sexuality - they tip because I'm fucking awesome at making foods, plus I remember most of their drinks. Feels like being a bartender without the natural self-esteem boost of wearing a black shirt.