Johnny Angel

I have an old sweater that is so disgusting that anyone who saw it would use tongs to throw it away, but it is so comfortable and soft. It fits my body as well as my moods. It knows me and I always feel safe when I wear it. It’s my home-no matter where I am I put it on and I am home. When I saw Johnny I saw an old sweater. I felt home with him, as long as I could see him I knew the world was right. On nights when he wasn’t at the bar life didn’t seem right, my emotions were numb and I would just walk through the night waiting for sleep to find me. Sometimes he would come late and I would just wake up and run to see him. I remember my sisters wedding got in the way of going to Fire Island with John. He invited Dawn and myself and a few others, we had to say no because it was my sisters wedding, trust me I did debate whether or not I wanted to go to the wedding or not.
When you’re gay, it’s not that you don’t like your family, but you always have to explain or hide. In Feathers there was no hiding. We were with people who knew what we felt and we never had to explain. There was no judgment or looks, just fun and people who would cut you down to size with one lash of their tongue. I held my own, not that I wanted to-I just had to. I had a vision of John playing the piano (he had a white baby grand) while I wrapped Christmas presents. His vision was more Trojan ribbed and Vaseline.
John was from the “old school”, he was an older man and I was in awe. He was one of the original bartenders. He worked with Trixie, Rainwater, Mason and Brian P. They were GOD bartenders! OMG even as I sit here typing I am amazed that I was in their presents, never mind their equals. Everyone was just so young and pretty back then.
There was something so regal about bartending at Feathers.
Hank had great taste in choosing men. Brian was Italian Stallion all the way- not in my imagination could I envision a more handsome man than he. He would just snap his gum and wink-“What’ll ya have babe?” BUTTER! Mason was a chiseled Brooklyn beauty. Rumor was that he was dating Robert Reed, the father from “the Brady Bunch”. He left bartending to go to LA. Rainwater was a stud in his day, but ended up staying too long at the fair. He’s face showed the weathering of a falling star, where his registers used to out number his co-workers, now they struggled to keep from making a fool out of him. Phillip and li’l Joey were the bar boy toys, cute little stuffing of loving.
Then there was Trixie. Trixie was a character that all bars need. Trixie was a party whore! I first saw Trixie outside the bar sitting in a puddle of pee in an after hour’s night club. He looked up at me-high as a kite- and demanded to know if I was his daughter! I just laughed as he sat in the pee wearing one of his oversize “Maude” style shirts with dime store beads around his neck. In the gay world old gay queens take on the new ones as their daughters. I was with Kenny Casper and we just laughed. Casper agreed to be his daughter to which Casper ended up having to “Buy your mother a drink.”

Then there was John, My Johnny Angel, who looked like a young Michael Landon. I swore my grandmother, who had passed away a few years earlier had sent him to take care of me. She loved “Bonanza” and Michael Landon’s character, Little Joe. I lied about the first time I saw him. I first met him a few months earlier when I ordered a screwdriver from him. I stood shocked by his presence, “could such a handsome guy really be alive and in front of me?!” “You gonna stare or order?” he barked in a sound that was music to my ears. “A screwdriver…light..please.” I ordered from my future. He threw the drink at me and I gave him my ten dollar bill. I took a snip and realized that screwdrivers do not have foam, he forgot to rinse my glass and it still had bar soap in it. When he came back with my change I stopped him for a moment…”Excuse me…”I nervously twitched, I twitch when I am nervous. “What do you want, I’m busy ?” “I think you left some soap in my drink.” “So does that mean you’re not going to tip me?” I was kinda confused when Hank came over and asked if there was a problem. I played it off, “No, no. No problem. I was just complimenting the bartender on a great drink! Here take a five. “as I drank the disgusting soapy drink made by my angel. As I left the bar I over heard him question if the drink was so good why didn’t I tip more.
So was the start of the greatest love story that never was…

Till Tomorrow, be kind