Poster Child

Almost ten years ago, before I met KC, I wrote a poem about a girl I had a silly college crush on. One of the lines of the poem said something to the extent that she was a "gay poster child's poster child." How true that line turned out to be this weekend.

My 15 minutes of fame was rushed in by a series of text messages from my buddy, Jeremy:

Jeremy: Where are you?
Me. Leaving soon.
Jeremy: Omg. Ur poster child of the month!
Me: Liar. (There was no need to goad me into coming).
Jeremy: NO IM NOT!
Me: Shit. Im on my way.

The extra effort of typing in all caps was enough to make me worry that there might be some truth to his claim.

Merlin's, the local gay watering hole, chooses a "Poster Child" every month. Usually the monthly poster child is a sort of iconic member of the bar community. A few months ago a young guy named Jared asked me to vote for him as poster child before he left for FIT (the university). So, I had naively figured I was safe from becoming the poster child as it would require voting and knowing tons of people. Apparently, however, the owner of the bar decided to make an exception in my case.

Anyhow, when I got to Merlin's I had my first Cheers moment since being an athlete in college. Everyone, esp. all the characters that were always asking me, "I'm sorry, I know we have been introduced several times, but what is your name again?" shouted "BILLY" as I walked in the door.

In my rush to get to the bar I had just thrown on an old sweater, worn the same old stinky jeans I had had on for two days and left my hair going in whatever direction it chose for itself. But, for whatever reason everyone loved my outfit and what I was doing with my hair. My jokes were funnier. My stories were more interesting.

It is a mixed bag, being poster child.

On the one hand it marks you as an official MEMBER of the Merlin's community. On the other hand it MARKS you as an official member of the Merlin's community.

I am a bit worried of what my former college players will think when they walk into the bar and see pictures of me everywhere. I am a bit more worried about what they will think when they have to show me their IDs at the door in order to get in, as I am starting work as a Merlin's bouncer this weekend.

I hope they don't think this means I will let them get away with drinking in season. Queer, bouncer, ex-coach, or not, they should be taking care of their bodies. I pray that having my face plastered all over the bar will frighten them into staying away and staying sober. At least for the month of September. Then it will be some other local gay's job to scare them straight.

(Note: Yes, the word despotism is misspelled in the poster (depotism). This is great because I am a horrific speller. I would like to point out, however, that the quote is lifted from my blog where despotism is spelled correctly.)