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24.07.2011

Bye bye ‘Bucky’…

The beginning of the end started last Monday. ‘Buck’s’ last 72 hours were slipping out of our puffy hung over fingers. As usual, my two dear friends, the aforementioned and ‘Jose Maria’, had decided to stay up giving in to their drunk munchies and watching movies. I on the other hand, had fallen asleep promptly. A girl’s gotta watch her figure and I’m not 21 anymore.

They had planned an eventful MOMA/harry potter day, but it’s hard to do all these things when you’re retardedly hung over and you wake up literally after noon, so instead we nixed the museum and just watched the very confusing last chapter of Miss Rowling’s most successful best sellers. After the movies I had agreed to meet ‘Sandpaper’ for a Mexican dinner and maybe some rooftop pool action. We went to Dos Caminos in the meatpacking. The food is not the best but the view is nice, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to introduce him yet to my special Brooklyn Mexican eatery ‘Mesa Coyoacan’, also, I didn’t want to take him near la casa de me. He was acting creepy and too attachy for my taste. I’m not sure if it’s a cultural thing but I was somewhat flattered/annoyed by his actions. Please refrain from calling me baby, trying to hold my hand, too many PDA’s, and whatever other cutesy/romantic bullshit standard faggots enjoy.

After dinner we wandered around Chelsea for a bit stopping by GYM (a gay sports bar), and XES. The former was fun. I managed to embarrass myself playing a game of pool in front of a somewhat attractive Puerto Rican daddy type (what is wrong with me! Puerto Rican? really? I guess I’m evolving). He challenged ‘Sandpaper’ to a game and, to my surprise, ‘Sandpaper’ was a ball away from winning. We left promptly after. XES was boring. We tried going to Le Bain after but it was closed for the night. I bid him adieu and walked to the ACE hotel to meet up with ‘Buck’ and ‘Jose Maria’. There was a fashion trade show party. It wasn’t very fun so we went back to Brooklyn. We made a quick pit stop at Metropolitan, then a last stop at Alligator lounge for some free pizza and more drinks. We walked back home.

Side note: I’ve been feeling very manic lately. I just realized it tho. I’d been feeling strange for a few days and it just hit me that maybe it was a manic episode. That would explain it all, basically I’ve been more sexual, more reckless, more fervent, more effervescent, and thus my posts haven’t been very ‘usual me’, as well as my behavior.

Tuesday morning was another late start. My sleeping beauties snoozed till two-ish. ‘Jose Maria’ went back to the city to handle personal business. Me and ‘Buck’ debated whether we should stay in, order food, and watch movies, but then I realized I had to meet a friend for some art openings later in the evening, so we decided to go to MOMA for a bit prior to my engagement. We barely had an hour of time before MOMA closed, so I quickly gave ‘Buck’ a tour of the highlights and a crash course in modern art history. Then I left him and ‘Jose Maria’, who met up with us, and headed to Chelsea Market to meet my friend ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’. We walked up a few blocks to the Matthew Marks Gallery for ‘La Carte d’apres Nature’ exhibit. It was nice. We tried to find other openings, but there were none so we just went to The Red Cat for drinks and cheese. It was nice to see her. I enjoy our little one on ones where we talk about work, people, and people from work. The weather was hot, but not ubberly so we strolled to the east side along 23rd st. We parted ways around Broadway and I went home.

Earlier that evening, ‘Buck’ had a dinner with his previous host/lovely friend. After his engagement, he met me back at mine’s. We opted to do an East Village bar crawl before ending, as expected, at Le Bain. Phoenix. Heather’s. Something on Ave B. Bedlam. The first was alright, met some really annoying queer who kept arguing about the straight to gay ratio in the world with very questionable sources and “facts”. The second was phenomenal. I met Emily Haines and her bandmate Josh and talked to them for a long time. Turns out he knows an artist we work with. She asked me for my cellphone number… just saying. The third bar on Ave. B was chill. I accidentally opened the door to the bathroom as a girl was fixing her boobs, and although a bit awkward, we laughed and drank the awkwardness off. ‘Jose Maria’ met up with us and we left for the last place. Bedlam was empty.

Le Bain was fun, as usual. We went into Boom Boom for a bit. My manic self had us going from one side to the other. We eventually ended at the hot tub. I proceeded to do this completely naked. I kissed some South American, he fondled my penis briefly, we left.

Back in Brooklyn, we tried to find some food but almost everything was closed. It was almost 5 in the morning. I picked up a veggie bagel sandwich from the deli, ‘Buck’, and ‘Jose Maria’ were once more being princesses about the whole situation and decided to go back to my place and wait till 6 in the morning when their usual bagel shop opened. The short brown man at the deli messed up my order so I threw my bagel away and went to bed. I believe the boys stayed up and got their bagels.

Wednesday, we all woke up past 1pm. ‘Buck’ had to catch a cab at quarter past two. We didn’t get to hang out much more, but although I didn’t want him to leave, nor did he want to leave, I have a feeling we both knew it was the right time. The goodbye was nice. Not only does absence make the heart grow fonder, but also he needs to figure out his San Diego situation so he can be back in town by the fall. Like I stated, the past few days with him were not at all what I expected. It was nicer and better than I could’ve thought, and I got to see a more mature, more centered side of him I was proud of. It’s crazy how fast kids grow these days. Life goes on.

All I have left to say about this is: come back soon my dear boy, this fag needs his stag stat.

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20.07.2011

The more baths I take the dirtier I feel.

I’d been meaning to have a catch up day ever since I got back from Europe. A day to thoroughly clean my apartment, unpack, and rest properly. The latter trumped the rest. It was a lazy day indeed. I did manage to go to the city and do a little shopping for stuff I needed around the house. I wasn’t feeling much like going out that night either. Sometimes, I need my alone time. However, one thing led to another and me and ‘Buck’ ended up meeting a friend for drinks. The bar du jour isn’t my favorite by any means, but at the end of the day that’s beside the point. What really matters is the company and the price of the drinks.

We imbibed a couple of standard cocktails and left to our next destination. It was empty. We walked over to Lit Lounge and Home Sweet Home. The first was somewhat happening, the latter was quite barren so we decided to try Le Bain. ‘Buck’ had been wanting to check it out and I’d been meaning to take him so although it was a Monday night and it would most likely be empty, we weren’t looking to meet people, just enjoy the amazing view and maybe have a dip in the inside hot tub/pool. Sadly, tonight we’d have to stay dry. The place was closed.

Still itching for a drink or three we walked to the opposite corner to Hogs and Heifers of Coyote Ugly fame. The bar was also empty, but the cheery bartenders made it fun regardless. We didn’t stay long. We decided to try our luck at Cielo nearby. Being this the meatpacking district, we were asked for a 15 dollar cover, to which I politely declined, and, do not quote me on this one but, I believe we went home.

Tuesday I planned on stopping by work for a second. I ran some more errands. ‘Buck’ did his sight seeing. Later we all met with his friends at a celebrity owned restaurant in the UES for some trivia night. Naturally, we kicked ass. We raffled the three iPod nano’s we’d won, but I didn’t get one. After trivia, we went to have a quick drink at 2A for my friend’s birthday. We didn’t stay long, the plan was to drink cheap and then head to Le Bain (finally).

We breezed through the front door. I’ve become quite the regular so cues are not necessary. We rode the elevator up to the penthouse, out the dark corridor, and into the sleek noir interiors we went. The night hosted a drag/gay party. Naturally, a lot of your usual New York nouveau club kids were there, which only added to the already fantastic views of the New York skylines. It is a sight to be seen. We proceeded to buy an expensive watered down drink. I do not understand why, but as a vodka connoisseur, it baffles me that they try to hide well vodka in premium bottles. Who are they trying to kid?! I guess it doesn’t matter if you’re already drunk (which is usually the case). We strolled around for a bit, enjoyed more of the view, and went upstairs for more cockys and fags (I’m talking about drinks and cigarettes). Eventually, as expected, we ended up in the hot tub prancing around in our skivvies and getting into all sorts of trouble. I think I made out with a boy.

Wednesday I worked, worked, worked. I’m not sure what my other two partners in crime did, most likely sleep most of the day and bum around as you should when on vacation. I might be getting my days confused, but I’m sure that night we went back to the East Village. I can’t recall if something happened prior to my usual Wednesday hang out Eastern Bloc or not, but we stopped there for a couple of drinks. Said hi to some familiar faces (and cocks) and spared ‘Buck’ from yet another gay soiree by going back to Le Bain per his request.

I’d never been on a Wednesday and I’d heard it wasn’t the best night, but again, as long as I have the view, a cocktail, and a friend I’m ok with it. Getting in was no problem (again), despite the fact that there were people being turned down at the door. The place was not as packed as the previous night, but still fun. My inebriated “I can do anything” persona devised a plan to get us into Boom Boom Room next door. There is no pool there but it’s definitely a place to see, especially if you’re from out of town, you need the full “if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere” New York experience. The plan worked. The Room was empty, but again, we had some cocktails and made the best of it. I left my buddies around 3am when I decided I was tired and I didn’t really care to wait for them. I sometimes get like this when I drink. All I know is I got home safe, they did so as well, but opted to stay up watching movies and eating bagels till who knows when. I had work in a few hours.

In the morning I realized I’d received a ‘booty text’ from a certain DJ I’d fooled around a while ago. More on this in a bit.

Thursday was a long day. We had an opening at my job that night so I planned and packed my usual stand out attire for the evening and wore a tank top and jeans to work. The thing I love about my job is that there’s always something different and new to do, and Thursday just happened to have a bit of everything. I showed my true Mexican self by doing some manual work, my almost genius like intellect and problem solving abilities by doing a lot of brain work, and my alluring personality by socializing like a socialite on speed. The evening turned out great. A lot of my friends came by and so did a couple of cocks who’ve been either chasing me or I’ve been chasing.

After the opening, I went with one of my coworkers to grab some food, ran into one of the cocks and told him to meet me at the after party. We walked back to a bar around the corner for some ‘work drinks’. It wasn’t the usual after party. It was more toned down, but so was the opening so I guess it was fitting. The rest of my friends and the cock showed up. I felt slightly rude to some my guests all night because I couldn’t really spend much time chit chatting. I was working like a busy bee all night, and I’ve decided that comes first. I’m refocusing on making it in different aspects of my life and I do not need distractions. Me and my boss had our usual drunken work rants that I love. If all goes well, I see my future getting brighter, but I won’t say more, I don’t want to jinx it. After being somewhat ignored, the cock went home. The rest of my friends and I went back to Le Bain.

A friendly face was working the door. We breezed right through. Again, sorry to all the ones waiting in line, I was once one of you, although honestly I don’t know what it is but I’ve always been enchanting enough to be wanted in. The crowd was horrible. The Chelsea gays decided to migrate south for the evening. I skedaddled to Boom Boom and once inside proceeded to device a way of getting my posse in. I succeeded. There has been a bit of drama between a few of the attendees of the night. I hung around for a bit and observed people getting drunker and looser. After a blurry hour or so I received a message from DJ asking me to come over. Rather than doing my usual disappearing act and going home I said my goodbyes and left my party to their own demise and cabbed it to the East Village. My knight in shinny briefs was waiting for me. I undressed, we laid in bed and kissed. We fell asleep rather quick. The next morning we kissed some more and jacked off. He came, I didn’t. We bid farewell and looking like I did 12 hours ago I went to work. My boss giggled.

I didn’t stay long, just half the day. That evening I was to meet my current crush at his adult industry job and catch a buss to Atlantic City for a weekend I’m quite sure I’ll never forget. Without knowing, one of the last bastion of my guarded self was about to crumble down.

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08.07.2011

NY NY NY NY NY NY NY

It’s been exactly 7 days since I’ve been back. I figured that rather than posting constantly about every single day, while in New York I’m gonna post once or twice a week, unless something truly exceptional happens. I’m not saying I don’t have quite the exceptional life, I do, I love it, I enjoy it, I don’t want to change it, but I’d hate to sound repetitive and predictive: yes, I went out again tonight and got drunk and crazy… how many times do we want to read that? Without further ado I will try to write a recap on my first week back home to the best of my blurry mind’s abilities.

I landed last Friday. As soon as I did I started texting people. I had dinner plans within minutes, so I took a cab home, and called ‘Freckles’ to let me in to my own apartment. ‘Freckles’ is my friend who’d been house sitting for me. I walked my exceptionally graceful dog who is an amazing traveler to have him pee after holding it in for 6 or 7 hours, and went upstairs. I was in dire need of a shower, so after a brief catching up I did so. Then, we headed to ‘Pulino’s’ to meet up with my other friend ‘Jose Maria’ and one of my coworkers. The whole time I’d been texting with ‘Latin T’ I thought I liked. He was in the neighborhood and decided to meet up with us for a drink.

After Pulino’s we headed for more drinks at a few bars in the East Village. Nothing really different or out of the ordinary. I was ecstatically happy to be back. Summer nights in New York HAVE to be the best place in the world. It’s warm and everybody’s walking around almost naked and enjoying the weather. Us New Yorkers put up with the winters and the summer days for the few hours of summer nights we get. ‘Latin T’ decided to kiss me. It felt nice. He was very forward but in a cute way. I didn’t mind. I felt like I could play the roll of “average fag in love for the night” for the night. We were holding hands, kissing, hugging, basically making my friends wonder who the fuck had gotten back from Europe and what did he do with the real me. ‘Latin T’ asked me to come home with me. I politely declined. I wasn’t feeling it for a couple of reasons. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him but I was intrigued to find out, so I decided not to fuck it up and explore my new found Latinophilia for the next few days. I ended up passing out at around 4 or 5 in the morning, I think.

Saturday was my first day back at work. I was very excited to come back. I was somewhat dreading all the catching up I’d have to do, mostly for my own crazy reasons because I’m sure it wouldn’t be that big of an issue if I just didn’t get up to speed and just started fresh, but that’s not me. I’m obsessive compulsive. It was nice to be welcomed back with open arms and blank stares (the beard was gone). That day was ‘The Cock of the North’s’ birthday. I had gotten him a really nice present that I was sure he’d love. When he opened it, he was happier than a sick child who’d just received news of his new kidney after life riskingly waiting for a transplant. As expected, we went over to his house after work and celebrated his day. We had some cocktails and then went to a bar. It was a nice chill night at first. Then, my other friend ‘Afterline’ suggested we go to an after-party at Le Bain for a quick late night dip in the hot tub. I wanted to loyally stay and hang out with ‘The Cock of the North’, but I also felt guilt tripped into going, and I knew it was gonna be fun regardless, so a posse of about 10 of us ended at the rooftop of The Standard getting even more intoxicated and eventually wetting our underpants. I got home pretty late/early.

Sunday was a chill day. Me, ‘Freckles’, and ‘Jose Maria’ went for a late brunch at a tiny tapas bar in the village. The food was delicious, the sangria was smooth, and the atmosphere was just right. They kept playing old school Shakira and Mana for my nostalgic Mexican ear’s delight. Another friend, ‘Occhio’, joined towards the end. We left and headed back to mine for more drinks and board games. Later that night, we ended up at the Gansevoort rooftop for a gay party. I wanted to see the DJ, he’s an old ‘friend’ who I’ve fooled around a handful of times. He was nice and charming as always and greeted me with a peck. We didn’t stay long. We went to Le Bain to show ‘Freckles’ the view. Again, somehow we all ended up in the pool. She did so topless claiming she didn’t want to get her bra wet, but if you ask me, that’s just her excuse. She’s a flirt, and why not, she’s beautiful. If I was her, I’d be butt naked. I think I kissed a guy while inside the hot tub. They night just got blurrier, but some how I was sober enough to have a very intense conversation with ‘Freckles’ when we got back to mine. We passed out at 7am.

Monday was 4th of July. We didn’t have set plans, but me being the usual leader of the pack decided to have people over, head to the park, get drunk, and then find a rooftop to look at some fireworks. Prior to that tho, I met up with my old roommate from community college and her man. I persuaded them into having a pop burger and hoped they would prefer it over in-n-out. Us New Yorkers desperately try and find a substitute, but sadly there is none. West Coast, you can have this one.

I took them to the highline. We walked for a bit and then headed back to Billyburg. We stopped by my place, picked up my pooch, and headed to ‘Lucky Dog’ for a quick beer before the park. At about 5pm we were finally sitting at McCarren indulging on outlaw vodka, and chips and guac. There were about 10 of us and the group just kept getting bigger. ‘Latin T’ joined us with his friend and so did my fellow Frenchies who are dating each other. More food. More drinks. More boardgames. So far a successful 4th of July.

That evening, we walked to my friend’s apartment further down into Williamsburg to go to his rooftop party and watch the fireworks. I was very drunk by that point, and I’m sure my friends were too. The fireworks were nice, but they would’ve been nicer sober. ‘Latin T’ left without saying goodbye which got me weirded out a bit. I was too drunk to stay out so I stumbled home and passed out before midnight. My dehydrated body woke me up a bit before 3 in the morning. I decided I’d text my friends and see if they were out. They weren’t. Having slept a few hours, I was sleepless and opted to go to ‘Metropolitan’ for last call by myself. I met a random Domincan Republic man who proceeded to hit on me with his unintelligible “Spanish”. I let him buy me my last drink, left the bar, skyped a bit, and went to bed.

Tuesday was wasted on recovering. I had errands to run but was too lazy to do so. ‘Freckles’ went back home. I stayed in and watched a bootleg movie. I met ‘Latin T’ for a drink as we had planned, and then we had dinner. It was supposed to be a date but two of his friends were there. He’d just been fired and needed friendly support. After dinner, he suggested we go back to mine and watch a movie. I agreed, but told him I had to go meet ‘Jose Maria’ who was having some boy issues later that night. To be honest, I am not certain how I feel about him yet so I’m being evasive and taking it slow. We cuddled while laying on my couch. It was nice. He left at about 11:30 and I headed to the east village to meet up with ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Tiny Narcissus’. We had a couple of drinks and somehow ended up at Le Bain, yet again. Inebriated, I kissed ‘Tiny Narcissus’ and after unsuccessful attempts of getting them in the hot tub, I went in by myself. Nothing new here. Went home drunk.

Wednesday I actually did run my errands although first I met up with ‘Afterline’ and a boy he had just met at school that morning. We did a nice brunch and then a beer and a game of scrabble. I kicked both their asses. How’s that for ESL? Then ‘Latin T’ came over to print some stuff. It was slightly awkward, but I’m not sure why. After he left I finished some of the many things I had to accomplish, and met up with ‘Tiny Narcissus’ and his friend for dinner. I had a bit of Greek overload that night. ‘Jose Maria’, my Greek answer to the common Greeks, caught up with us at Eastern Bloc. I kissed a certain someone I’ve talked about that I hadn’t kissed in a while. It felt good and validating. I still have it. I left horny and went to sleep.

Thursday I worked. We have a new intern, she’s nice but not as obsessive compulsive as I am and hence a bit slow (in my book). I really have to learn to accept the more sane humans I share this planet with. After work I went to the boonies of Brooklyn to meet up with ‘Jose Maria’ for a BBQ. Although I was starving, I politely declined all food passed in front of me because despite the fact that they were courteous enough to think about us sensiblevores (yes, I made that word up), they were not conscious enough to fully separate the meat from the non meat items. I can’t deal with my faux meat touching something that had once a face. His friends were nice. I randomly talked to a guy who went to med school with one of my best friends in junior high. How unbe*fucking*lievable small is this damn planet?! I can never get over that.

We all played Cranium, which was very slow and interesting considering the smorgasbord of racial backgrounds and nationalities we had going. The lesser adept gave up and went home. We continued playing, and my team lost. Me and ‘Jose Maria’ were supposed to go meet ‘Tiny Narcissus’ and some other friends at Le Bain, but I was tired and lazy and did not feel like doing the usual yet another night. Ironically enough, I ended up at Metropolitan. I met some handsome half Spanish half Irish thirtysomething and made out with him for the rest of the night. Two interesting things happened: he left for a second and asked me to take care of his drink, but when he came back, he apologized and said he didn’t trust drinking out of it so he got a new one. The other thing was that he seemed ok and not pushy at all when I let him know I was not going home with him. I think we both enjoyed the slight differences exhibited from the accustomed New York homosexual interaction. I felt a bit bad for ‘Jose Maria’. Whether he admits it or not, I felt he was a bit annoyed, and why not, I probably would too. I left my Spanish conquistador and headed home. You know the rest.

Today I worked. It was a slow day. It took me the whole day, on and off, to finish this entry, but I feel good about it. I like this new approach. My closing thoughts? Like I said, I’m not sure how I feel about ‘Latin T’. He’s very nice and I find myself randomly thinking about him throughout the day and looking at my phone for signs of interest, yet at the same time there’s something slightly off, something missing. I enjoy being single. I also enjoy having a boy around. There’s an interesting dichotomy here, when you have someone circumventing you, you tend to attract more and more suitors. I’d love to know the chemistry behind this, or maybe it’s just pure coincidence. Either way, I’m not stressing about it. Like I’ve stated, I’m taking it slow, exploring my options, enjoying my time. Today was also SF boy’s birthday. I wished him a happy birthday via Facebook, per my religious habits. He hasn’t responded, nor will he. It doesn’t matter, I woke up in such a great mood, and my day has been getting strangely better and better. An old friend, ‘Buck’, is in town. He stopped by the gallery. We’re going for drinks later. I was meant to go to the Chelsea Hotel for ‘Tiny Narcissus’s’ second to last night, but to be honest, it’s been a delightfully atypical day, and I want it to turn into an even more delightfully atypical night. Tonight I’m playing it straight.

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23.06.2011

Blind Date #2: Little Tokyo.

It took a ridiculously long time for my next blind date to happen, but on the evening of June 21st, 2011 it finally did! I’m starting to see a correlation here, since this one was set up by a friend of an artist we represent at work, and the previous one was set by the brother of an artist we represent as well. My friends, on the other hand, have proved to be as helpful as a guide dog who’s blind and missing a leg.

I was in Stockholm staying with said artist, and we had just shaved my head and beard. I shaved because I did not want to deal with customs at the US airport stereotyping me for my facial hair. It’s dumb but if I had a krona for every time it’s happened, I’d be a Swedish millionaire. The artist and his friend kept fucking with me about the date. Like I stated, I want to know as little as possible about my suitors. All I knew was his name. Let’s call him… ‘Little Tokyo’. They kept telling me to be careful, not to stare too much when I first see him, and if I was comfortable enough to push him around in his wheel chair. I soon discovered these were all lies.

I walked to the train station we decided we’d meet at. He was running late. I waited. Then I got a text saying he was around the corner. I nervously looked left and right. All of a sudden, a tiny Asian (later I found out Japanese) man with a denim ensemble and a very sad excuse for a ‘stache waved at me. I was relieved. We said hi and walked to a bar close by. It was an upstairs terrace, and when we were going up the stairs, ‘Little Tokyo’ said hi to two Swedish girls. We grabbed a beer, which he paid for, and upon realizing there were no available seats, we ended up sitting with his friends, who I found out worked with him.

It was a bit awkward at first. I had no clue about anything about this man, and his friends being there didn’t really promote a very ‘getting to know you’ environment. However, being the social papillon I am, I quickly had the girls asking one question after the next about my life, which I used to reciprocate and try subtly to find things about this man’s life. I found out he worked in fashion as a men’s wear designer for a not too interesting Swedish brand that’s easily available in America. He was twenty-eight. He had lived in Australia where he met Sweds who enticed him to move to Stockholm. He was soon quitting his job. Overall, he was a nice guy. I am probably more attracted to kitchen knives than I was to him, but as a blind date, he was adequate.

We left the terrace after one drink because they wouldn’t serve us more. We walked downstairs to the bathroom where we said goodbye to his coworkers, and crossed the street to another bar. It was a small, kitchy dive with interesting people that could fit in any given international city I’ve been to. He knew people there as well. We sat with them, but this time we actually talked to each other. We talked about Japan, and I managed to pull out all my Japanese katanas to show off my slight, yet unusual, knowledge of Japanese culture.

As planned, I’d been texting with ‘Titi’ to cue her to come save me if need be. I obviously didn’t feel threatened, but I wouldn’t mind them around, after all, it wasn’t an intimate affair, nor did I want it to turn into one. We finished out drink and went outside to smoke. They met us there and we all walked to another bar. The bar was closed so we went to another one around the corner. I drank at twice the speed they did. The date never really fulfilled itself as a date in an sense. We left after about an hour. I said bye, he asked if I had to go sleep at ‘Mr. A.G.’s’, I said yes. Not sure if this was him asking me to come over, but not in a million years would that happen. Never say never, I know, but this time I’m pretty confident saying so.

Me and the Swedes walked to the train station.’Titi’ took the train home, we walked. We had another drink, and I finished the bottle of champagne I had purchased earlier. We talked a bit about work, I set up my alarm, we went to bed. As expected, I didn’t wake up on time. ‘Mr. A.G.’ woke me up when the cab was outside. Fortunately I was already packed. I thanked him for everything and made it to the airport fine. Off to London. I was tired and ready for one last night in a city that feels like home, and with proper company. Me and ‘The Kid’ had plans.

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06.06.2011

Grind Date No. 1: Road Head.

In my never ending quest for equal opportunity and the unique, I started my new project. Dating shenanigans indeed.

I arrived to London last Friday evening, and as soon as I got wifi I logged into every gay man’s best friend: grindr. Soon enough, after sifting through all the headless torsos, I saw a picture of a guy who looked very British and very… east London I suppose. He had a catchy headline. I sent him a message and moved on. Later that evening he bit the bait. We started chatting. At this point, I didn’t have an agenda. I wasn’t aware that I would embark of this mission, so I just elusively talked expecting nothing.

*a bit of a side note here… for all of you who have no idea what grindr is, I should explain. It is an app that shows you all the gay men around your area (granted they’re logged on as well), with distance, a picture, some stats, and a short tagline. It is mostly used for sex, but I’ve met a few friends through it.*

After a day of conversation, he told me he was in a wheel chair, and asked if that was a problem. Are you kidding me? It’s a bit odd, but it’s also writer’s jackpot, and like I said, I like to be very equal opportunity. Especially since I don’t think I’ll marry most of these guys. A few more messages and we decided to meet. I was to come to his flat on Sunday evening, we would have some wine and food (except I said I was vegetarian so the food got nixed out of the equation), and see where things went. Again, elusive little me was not thinking about sex or anything of the sort, maybe just a snog.

Yesterday evening, I arrived at my rendez vous, a 15 minute walk east of Geordi-Mo’s. First impression? Very British. Very East London. He had a beautiful black little pug named Vivian (or Viv for short) who I started playing with right away. Anyone who knows me knows that dogs come first, second, and last in my life, and will promptly hypnotise me into ignoring the world and scratching their belly.

The conversation went smooth. He got a bit touchy feely and I giggled my way out of his grasp. His p.a. (personal assistant) came out, cooked some food, and opened up a pack of smokes. I asked her for one, and ‘road head’ insisted I smoked by the window instead of going downstair with her. I obliged.

After a few more sips of my wine, I felt somewhat comfortable with this man. We kissed. He tasted a bit odd, but nothing unfamiliar. I have this theory that meat eaters have a certain ‘taste’. He suggested I smoke by the window as he smoked me. I was slightly hesitant, but again, I obliged. It was definitely a first, to have my dick sucked as I was smoking on a balcony, in plain view of the outside world. Kind of a turn on.

We went back inside and he said he wanted me to fuck him, but stated he usually doesn’t do that (normally I call this bullshit but, for some reason, my intuitive persona didn’t feel he was lying). He suggested we get in his bed and see how things go. I offered a hand, he said he wasn’t comfortable, so he asked his p.a. to help him get into bed and then she summoned me into his room. We got in the bed. Kissed. He asked me to rim him. I obliged. He was a bit reluctant to me touching him in certain areas which I assume is understandable for someone with disabilities. He rimmed me (we agreed this is probably the best part of gay sex), and asked if I could cum in his mouth. Again, I was somewhat reluctant, as I have a somewhat strict ‘no swallowing’ policy, even if I’m not the one doing the swallowing, but I felt ok doing so. I came. He swallowed. We kissed a bit more, passed out for a second, woke up, and I took off. He had a dinner with a girl, I had to get back not too late as I am staying with friends who work the next morning.

As soon as I left I received a text. He cursed his dinner and said he enjoyed the company. I got home and found a similar message on grindr. I told my story to my hosts, and went to bed. I woke up a few hours later and started writing this entry. I feel a bit odd, but to be honest, maybe it’s just a case of PCT (post coitum tristesse) and if anything, this little endeavour I’ve taken will assist with managing that. Today I’m off to Birmingham.

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10.04.2011

vraiment VERMONT!

Part of what I enjoy about my job is the random things I have to do sometimes. Case in point, my visit to Vermont. When my boss emailed asking who would want to do it, I was a bit hesitant. As I said, I had been ill for a week and really needed to rest and take care of myself, not to mention the fact that I was going to the LCD sound system show the night before and I was sure I wasn’t going to get much sleep before the 4 hour drive up the I-87 N… but then again, I enjoy getting shit done (and I was quite certain no one else would), and I figured that other than this, why else would I go to Vermont?! Surely not to take advantage of gay marriage.

So I woke my ass up, managed to put some pants on, leashed my dog, and stumbled my way to the local coffee/smoothie shop for a hang over friendly liquid concoction and a bagel. Then I met up with my road trip buddy (btw I’m avoiding names in all of my posts on purpose) who was waiting outside my building, and we cabbed it to the U-Haul place by the navy yard.

I have to admit, my stomach was killing me. I wanted to puke. The smoothie wanted to creep out of me any way possible (and it did at the U-Haul center bathroom… guilty). We hopped on the van and started our way. Me and my road trip buddy, who we shall call Titi, didn’t really know each other, but I’m quite confident in my easy goingness so after a few minutes we were chit chatting about this, and about that, freaking out about the road (we weren’t legally allowed to be on anything labeled “parkway”), singing along to bad music (mostly 90’s bad exercise tunes), and just having a jolly good time (like road trips should be!).

We made a couple of pit stops delighting ourselves in pure, uninhibited Americana. I ate some chain fast food fried grossness (not the best for my ailing intestines), drank about enough redbull to kill a small ferret, and chewed on enough pepto bismol tablets to permanently lacquer my duodenum in pink. The road was beautiful. Quite different from California (where I’ve partaken in plenty a road trips). Read the rest of this entry »

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10.04.2011

Oh Land. Cut/Copy. LCD soundsystem.

So it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. Been very busy, been sort of ill, been sleeping little, been writing nothing… but that changes today… or at least today I decided to take a break, sleep some more, let my stomach rest, and update the blog. Tomorrow we can go back to “normal”.

Also, I’ve been thinking about the blog, and the direction I want to take with it. Let’s just say I’m making it more cohesive. But enough about this… let’s get on to the actual content.

It all started the night of March 29th, the first of 4 intimately beautiful evenings with Danish talent juggernaut couple Nana Øland Fabricius and Eske Kath during their residency at Charles Bank Gallery (or what I like to call work). The previously dark and quiet white cube was now turned into an equally dark, yet radiantly colorful pays des rêves, where industry people, as well as elated fans gathered to listen to Oh Land’s 30 minute “picnic setup” (as she dubbed it) music sets. Oh Land, accompanied by a string quartet, played 6 to 7 of her debut album’s songs, in a more toned down manner that made it feel more personal and cozy.

At first I thought of writing about a specific night, but since I figured plenty of bloggers would take that approach, I decided to take my own approach, and write about the experience as a whole. Each evening was essentially the same, but the slight differences made each night feel fresh, and equally intimate. I truly enjoyed listening to Oh Land’s captivating hymns slowed down and sang in a way that, to me, it felt one-on-one. Melodies like “White Nights” and “Rainbow” have been gleefully stuck in my head since. However, her latest single, “son of a gun”, was especially memorable, since it was the one song that was the most different from it’s original version.

The entire experience came together flawlessly. The welcoming music, along with the cheery art installations (courtesy of Kath), and Oh Land’s incredible stage persona and forward outfits, brought an all together positive feel-good feeling to my slightly ill self (the weekend prior, I had indulged myself in oysters and ended up with a severe case of unsexy food poisoning). to tommelfingre op!!

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Category: Work