The trap door under rock bottom has opened and I’ve been bitch slapped by my own sisters, folks. I was dissed by the gay bar mag HX. They asked me to judge their illustrious Mr. HX contest coming up soon at a local bar and I nicely said yes, since I basically say yes to anything (except anything that pays lots of money). I’ve even presented at their HX awards for years and have not only enjoyed it, I’ve given them huge writeups in my column.
Well, I just got an email from the HX worker who’d booked me and she (under orders, no doubt) studiously un-“hired” me! Can you imagine being “fired” from judging a contest at Splash? Can you be fucked over for what was basically a complete charity fuck? Isn’t it all too devilishly delicious?
Before you read the email, you should know that the new editor of HX once blogged that a guy he was dating dumped him to instead befriend “an aging columnist” (i.e., me.) Yes, I AM aging (in fact, we all are), but I felt there were better ways to define me, like “legendary” or at least “pudgy and paranoid”. After that, he nervily asked me for a few favors and I once obliged, trying to rise above it all for a change. But in this week’s column, I alluded to his remark, albeit in a lighthearted way, saying he’s “astute” for having made that observation. Could that possibly be behind the email I got:
So sorry to have to do this, as we were looking forward to the prospect of you judging the Mr. HX contest. But, after a meeting with the owner of our company, he’s decided to take another route with the contest, and we will not be able to have you as a judge for Mr. HX 2008.
My sincerest apologies for your time, and thanks for understanding.
My reply to her: THANK GOD!!!!!