the.applied.process.

wit. honesty. everyday ramblings.

Tag: ‘Fixie’

22.09.2011

Airplanes

“It sounds like we would of had a great deal to say to each other”

Intermission.

Last Saturday, ‘SF boy’ took the red eye to New York. We had originally made plans to hang out at least once but, knowing him, nothing was set in stone. I wasn’t holding my breath for this one, and besides… with all these other boys I’d been juggling, I was pretty winded. Regardless, being the cheery always down for whatever kind of guy that I am I had planned a nice evening for us on Monday: dinner, Broadway, drinks, and maybe a sleepover. In his typical manner, he was playing hard to get and making it significantly hard to have solid plans. Sunday I knew he’d be with his friend for a birthday. He actually texted me Sunday night but after a couple short back and forth one liners he stopped. What a surprise.

Monday morning I woke up fairly early because ‘Nickle’ was over and he needed to go to work. I planned on staying up but after having some hydrating coconut water and a slice of peanut butter toast, I went back to bed for a mini nap. I woke up at elevenish just in time to do a much needed session of yoga. The class was surprisingly easy this time.

I got out at about 2 and hurried home to frantically clean my place in case ‘SF boy’ came over or spent the night. A good thing about him is that after being to his’, I got inspired to grow up and keep a pristine apartment. I’ve been doing good so far. For the next following hours I scrubbed, swept, vacuumed, washed, swiped, polished, and cleaned every single nook and cranny of my untidy abode. In between all these things I kept smoking cigarettes and checking my phone for signs that ‘SF boy’ was still alive. They came few and far between but somehow I managed to decipher that I was supposed to meet him somewhere in SoHo at around 5:30 pm so we could grab something to eat and a drink before heading to see the musical.

I showered, got dressed, and headed to our rendez vous. He was waiting with his friend at a parking garage on Mulberry and Kenmare where there was some sort of police altercation outside. I greeted them both and hung around till his friend got her car. We then walked for a bit till we ended up at Delicatessen on the corner of Prince and Lafayette having some fish tacos and a michelada in my case, and a burger and some gay martini in his. We quickly and effortlessly caught up which boggles my mind because for some reason, when we’re hanging out it seems so fluid and natural, yet when we’re not together it’s so awkward and it’s like pulling teeth to try and have some sort of connection with this man. We ordered a second round of drinks and dilly dallied for a second till it was time to catch the N uptown to Times Square to watch Priscilla Queen of the Desert.

My handsome tourist was taking plenty of pictures of all the wasteful billboards on 42nd and Broadway, some of them including me, which I find a bit odd because he seems like one of those boys who doesn’t want others to know he’s hanging out with someone so he can keep his options open, much like DJ. We found the Palace Theatre and ordered another drink. This time: a pink margarita. We got escorted to our seats and waited till the musical started. I had an exceptional time. If you haven’t yet, go watch this one. It was camp, it was funny, it was light, it was well choreographed, it was perfect for the occasion.

After we left the theatre I texted ‘Fixie’, ‘The Queen of the Dammed’, and ‘Mexican Paddington’ to go to Cubby Hole for a few more rounds. We took the train to the Village and met up with the boys. On the way there I texted ‘Fixie’ warning him not to mention DJ or ‘Nickle’ because ‘SF boy’ didn’t know about them.

Right after we got there both ‘Fixie’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ gave me their negative two cents on my date. I wanted to get some dirt on him and with the world being so small, it turned out ‘Mexican Paddington’ knew some of ‘SF boys’s’ friends from back home. I let them chat for a bit and went outside with ‘Fixie’ for a cigarette and more schooling. I like to hear his opinion because he’s usually pretty on point.

We went back inside and had a few more drinks. In their usual manner, ‘Mexican Paddington’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ went home. We stayed with ‘Fixie’ to finish our drinks and then took the L to Brooklyn.

Before heading to bed we stopped by Metro for one last round. Again, the night was quite fun. We were a bit flirty but not too much, just like we usually are. I took him to the photo booth for my ritualistic documenting of the boys I go out with. We left Metro and I offered he spent the night. Not sure if he used this as an excuse or not but he said he couldn’t because he had his friend’s keys and needed to give them to her early in the AM. I chose to believe him. We hugged goodbye and before letting him walk away I called him back and gave him a kiss.

As I was walking home I texted ‘Nickle’ to see if he was still at The Abbey like he usually is. He didn’t reply but I decided to stop anyway. He wasn’t there but most of his friends were. They all greeted me with great excitement, as usual. I stayed for a bit having a few more drinks and talking to them about my future ex boyfriend. Some of them gave me the go, others jokingly told me to be nice or they’d break my bones. It was getting late and I was ready to go home. I paid my ridiculously cheap tab and stumbled home. Apparently, I called ‘Jose Maria’ and had an anxiety attack about the whole situation. I don’t quite remember that, but it sure sounds like me. The anxiety is getting worse and worse. I have no idea why but I’m getting scared. Thinking back, a similar situation happened when I was in San Francisco staying with ‘SF boy’. I’m confused and I don’t know how to go about it. I guess all I can do is just take it a day at a time. It’s scary and exhausting… life is not fun sometimes.

“I bet when I leave my body for the sky the wait will be worth it.”

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16.09.2011

Everybody’s Working for the Weekend

“Everybody’s workin’ for the weekend, everybody wants a new romance. Everybody’s goin’ off the deep end, everybody needs a second chance”.

As I stated, I left DJ’s very excited to finally get a weekend sans boys to catch some breath and spend some time with my other neglected friends. As soon as I got home from the East Village, I got ready for work and biked across the exhausting Williamsburg bridge and into SoHo. I spent the day at work writing on the blog and making plans for future travels with ‘The Lady of Derbishire’. That evening, we left work and went to the Alex Katz opening at Gavin Brown. Openings are somewhat funny to me, just like the fashion industry, the art world is filled with interesting characters and it’s always fun to go to these places and people watch. We stayed for about an hour and then ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ left with a friend for dinner, and I went to one of the Greeks’ apartment to wait for ‘Jose Maria’ and go to dinner ensemble. 

The Greeks had decided to try Fatty Crab. It was a Saturday night and we knew that everywhere we went would have a massive wait, so I jokingly suggested Chipotle. My fast food Mexican suggestion got vetoed promptly. I suggested that if we did do Fatty Crab, we try the one in the Upper West Side which is usually pretty relaxed and not crazy busy. I called the restaurant to make sure we’d get a table before we took a cab all the way up there. I was told that at the most we’d wait 20 minutes, so off we went to unfamiliar territories. One of the Greeks joked: “The Upper West Side is the new hip Saturday night spot”. I felt slightly more like a local, having bypassed the usual and tiring spots/neighborhoods for something much nicer, less crowded, and very understated.

As promised, we were seated promptly. Me and ‘Jose Maria’, being the two Fatty Crab veterans, ordered all the dishes for our virgin friend. On the menu: steamed veggie and pork buns, charred squid, the malay fish fry, two of the daily specials (one shrimp, one fish), some meat dish (which I didn’t partake in), and a healthy lesson in what it means to be gay (or really, just yourself) in New York. Dinner was delicious, as always, the conversation went smoothly, not because my poor Greek friend took it well, but because he is sort of a ditz and it all went right over his head. It was like feeding pearls to the swine, but even though I’m a pescatarian, I sill like my bacon.

After dinner I suggested we go to Hell’s Kitchen for some atypical gay bar fun. Next time I suggest such thing, please shoot me. We were absolutely miserable. I forgot why we never go above the 20’s. A drink’s time is as much as we could all handle, so we left and decided to go 180 degrees from there and into The Eagle. Again, it was going from one extreme to the other, one that I much prefer, but still find equally taxing. I don’t like these niche gays and their niche bars. This time, we stayed for twice as long: two drinks.

Looking to redeem the evening we cabbed it to “church” for my third night in a row. One of the Greeks left, ‘Jose Maria’ tagged along. He was outside smoking a cigarette when I went in to sneak a peak. It was a bit too much, and I was already quite tired and drunk so I went back outside and told him I was just going home. He asked me to chaperone him to Boiler Room where he had some unfinished business with two of his suitors. I reluctantly did because I couldn’t find a cab. After dropping him off, I went outside to have a cigarette, look for a taxi, and managed to hop in a car with two people going to Brooklyn. They dropped me off a few blocks away, I gave them 5 dollars, and I walked home to my lovely dog. My much needed time alone had finally come.

Sunday morning I got to work on time, surprisingly. I was blissfully excited all day and counting the nanoseconds till the True Blood season finale that night. I decided to invite people over for a finale party. Right after work I rushed home, cleaned up my somewhat messy apartment and waited for my guests. Only two people showed up (‘Fixie’ and ‘The Cock of the North’s’ wife), which was quite comfortable and nice. We played the second to last episode and sipped on some Red as we ate some deli sandwiches and discussed the season’s highlights. Once 9 pm hit, the room went silent for a somewhat disappointing hour. The episode was not what I expected, regardless we enjoyed it extensively.

After the post finale wrap up, ‘The Cock of the North’s’ wife left. Me and ‘Fixie’ went out for a few drinks at The Woods where one of the Frenchies was having his farewell cocktails. I didn’t really want to go because I rarely have fun and also I knew he’d just broken up with his ex (as expected by every single person who knows them), and I wasn’t in the mood to hear all the bullshit that comes with that. Regardless, a pickleback or two sounded good. After filling our quota we left and walked to The Abbey for a few more rounds. I was expecting to run into ‘Nickle’ who had just gotten back from his weekend wedding trip in Montauk, but he was still in the city with his best friend. Me and ‘Fixie’ were tired and headed back home to rewatch the season finale. He didn’t last long. I stayed up for a bit longer texting with ‘Nickle’ who ended up coming over after he got back to Brooklyn and stopped by The Abbey to say hi to his friend. I suppose my boy free wedding was over.

“You want a piece of my heart? you better start from start. You wanna be in the show? come on baby, let’s go!”

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30.08.2011

Seventeen

“They only want you when you’re seventeen…”

So our dear Irene (the hurricane) ended up being all talk and no action (at least in Williamsburg). As you are all aware, according to Bloomberg et. all, we were expecting a natural disaster in the likes of the second coming of Christ this past weekend. Instead, we got a mild tropical storm that left us stranded, because of complete MTA shutdown, with our apartments chock full of unused non-perishable items, and, if you’re anything like me, enough alcohol and cigarettes to start our own after hours speak easy. Never the less, I had a fun, crazy weekend.

It started Friday night. After work, despite being a bit worried that I hadn’t prepared at all for the upcoming natural catastrophe, I had plans to go to a BBQ in the Upper West Side with ‘Nickle’ and his friends. I’m usually not a big of a fan of BBQ’s because of my dietary restrictions. I always find it difficult to eat because, even if I get vegetarian options, the grills are usually lacquered with animal fat and I get really grossed out. That night tho, I decided I’d just let the cook do the cooking and look the other way.

He came to my job with a coworker and we walked to the Spring A train to go uptown to 86th street for the little soiree. We purchased some red and some white and a bottle of coke (per my suggestion) to make some kalimotxos, that’s basque for red wine and coca cola. I managed to find some veggie patties to grill and we went up to ‘Nickle’s’ friend’s rooftop. Everybody I met was in their thirties. Some of them were really nice, others it took a second to warm up to, but all in all they were pretty welcoming. They seemed like a very tight knight group. ‘Nickle’ kept asking if I was alright. I was. I am very good at making good first impressions and at socializing with people from all walks of life. Within minutes I had them inviting me to future road trips, rooftop parties, and birthdays. Nothing about the BBQ really stood out, other than the views. The party was fun, but around 10ish I told ‘Nickle’ I was going to leave. He decided to come with.

The plan was to take a cab back to my place so I could feed my dog and then head to a bar nearby. We were both very drunk. When we got to my apartment we decided to stay in and sleep. Some time around 5 in the morning we woke up and fooled around. Although I did give him head, I was a bit paranoid about the whole thing. I have no idea what goes in my head, but there’s very little I can do about it. God knows I try. This time we both came. He was aiming for my penis as I was about to ejaculate when I stopped him. Like I’ve said before, I don’t feel comfortable with others swallowing my load because, although I know I’m clean, it just makes me think that they are comfortable swallowing other people’s that might not be. Furthermore, I wouldn’t return the favor and I don’t like doing things I wouldn’t do too. I passed out with the thought of getting up early and preparing for our friend Irene’s arrival.

I woke up around 9 and so did he. We laid in bed for a bit cuddling. I really enjoy doing so with him, except the damn hurricane was all I could think about. We got up, got dressed, got vitamin water, and got out of my apartment. He asked me if I wanted him to come endure the storm with me later. I said sure.

I hurried to the grocery store list in hand hoping to still find supplies for the next few days. On my list: dog food, beer, wine, cigarettes, coconut water, vitamin water, bread, tuna, peanut butter, a hand can opener, cash, paper plates, and water, in that order. That shows my priorities. I managed to get most of the things and get home safe in time for the rain to start. I wasn’t sure how to feel or what to expect. I certainly have never been through a hurricane (ok El Niño back in the 90’s, but I was too young to realize the magnitude of the situation), and after the unexpected earthquake (which turned out to be nothing), I was sure anything could happen.

I wasted most of the day making funny “Irene” jokes on Facebook, planning hurricane parties, and watching Mad Men. At around 5pm, ‘Latin T’ messaged me to come join him and his really nice friend (who I really like) for a drink. Realizing that the damn hurricane was nowhere to be seen I biked over to his place. It was a different change of pace. I didn’t feel like I was meeting him for any specific agenda. It was more like meeting a friend, and I like that because that’s where I want this to go. He seems lonely, and I’m a sucked for stray dogs.

We had a couple of beers at his apartment and then headed to Union Pool. I didn’t stay long. I was feeling a bit like a third friend wheel. I left and texted ‘Nickle’.

After a very wet and windy bike ride (Irene was finally approaching), I met him at The Abbey and had a few more drinks with him. We were hanging out with his friends and some really annoying Caribbean Hispanics of dubious sexual preference I wanted to assassinate. One of them asked me for a twenty (money), the other one unbuttoned his shirt and was getting aggressive. I’m not sure which was worse. I was supposed to meet ‘Fixie’ but he’s been somewhat flakey lately so I just decided to have fun with ‘Nickle’ and let him be him. Me, ‘Nickle’, his amazing Irish friend, and the man she picked up left the bar and went back to my place for more drinks. We hung out for a beer’s time and she left with her beau du jour. ‘Fixie’ texted me and ended up coming over. We watched True Blood and had more beers. ‘Nickle’ was wasted and I kind of wanted to have a chit chat with ‘Fixie’ so I send him to bed and stayed up for a bit longer. I passed out on the couch but woke up at around 7am to ‘Fixie’ watching documentaries and Irene in full storm (literally). My windows were leaking. I was too drunk to care so I tucked ‘Fixie’ on the futon and went to bed.

At some point in the morning ‘Nickle’ tried to fool around with me. I was still drunk and too tired so I played possum. I am not sure what it is about him or how I feel towards the man. Sometimes I really like him, sometimes I’m slightly turned off, sometimes I just don’t know. We woke up at around 11 in the morning to no signs of the damn hurricane. With mild winds and barely any rain outside yet gorgeous cumulonimbus clouds, we decided to grab some brunch. ‘Fixie’ went in search of some tail, we met ‘Nickle’s’ friend a block away and walked to Five Leaves, which was closed, then to Enid’s, which was a giant mess, and back to Walter Foods on Grand St, which was also not happening. We ended up at a local sports bar asking for a hurricane (the drink, not Irene), but we got slightly laughed at so we settled for a beer. We then crossed the street to go to Lodge for some food. After a 45 minute wait I was gobbling up a vegan BLT and my second bloody mary.

With our stomachs somewhat satisfied, we continued our search for Hurricane Booze. We ended up at Metro where we finally were granted the privilege to savor the fruity (both literally and figuratively) drink. Just like Irene, it was anticlimactic. We reverted to beers. A couple of drinks later we left and went to Macri Park (the bar, not the actual green triangle) where we had yet more brewskis and a shot of whiskey. It was almost time for True Blood and I was planning my escape when friends of ‘Nickle’ suggested we join them at a Greek bar a block away where they were playing the show. We joined.

Sometime mid episode, I started receiving texts from the cute boy (‘Young Seth’) I had met last Wednesday who I let go because I spent the night with DJ. ‘Young Seth’ was at Metro. My inner drunk, greedy slut lied (yes! you heard me right!!!) and said I was going home. Instead, I walked around the block and back to Metro I went. I had a couple of drinks with ‘Young Seth’ and left. He invited himself over but changed his mind because he was going to wait for his Australian friend. I walked home a bit more drunk enough to not feel ashamed of my actions.

** Not to make excuses here but, this is not typical behavior for me, nor do I condone it, yet I don’t feel too bad about it. I think it’s because, really, other than, yes, lying, which is never good under any circumstance, I’m not doing anything terrible here. I’m single, I haven’t set labels or anything with any of these men, and I am free to do as I please. Chances are, some, if not all of them, are doing the same thing. It’s New York, we are young, we are gay. Simple algebra would explain this mathematical equation. Furthermore, I’m honest about it. I’ve told them I’m going on other dates and, if questioned further, I will gladly go into details. I have nothing to hide. **

I was planning on calling it a night and watching TV when ‘Occhio’ texted me saying he was back at Metro. I put back my clothes on and out the door I went for the third time that day. Yes, I have no shame. I hung out with ‘Occhio’, his female friend, and his gay coworkers. ‘Young Seth’ was still there. I divided my time between both posses and proceeded to make out with the latter. As if two boys weren’t enough, I got a text from ‘Fixie’ asking if I wanted to hang out and rewatch True Blood. Naturally, my answer was “yes”. ‘Young Seth’ pointed out the fact that I was texting ‘Fixie’. Did I miss the memo here? Since when is it a crime to text friends when out with other friends (because, really, that’s all I could call ‘Young Seth’ at this point). I didn’t acknowledge his stupid inquiry, and changed the topic. He left shortly after saying that he’d love to come over but he didn’t think it was such a good idea. Again, when was it part of the deal that he’d come spend the night? Besides, we had a date the next night.

I went back to ‘Occhio’ and co. They were talking to some local straight dude and his gay Chi town friend visiting. The Chicagoan was not my type by any means. He kind of reminded me of Jeremy Renner. However, there was something attractive about him. I think it was his very masculine demeanor. After a bit of chatting, he blatantly asked me if I wanted to go back to my place and play. I was a bit tempted because of my drunkness, but I told him I had a friend coming over and Bro’s come before Ho’s. He didn’t understand at first but, eventually, after I kissed him (don’t judge), and gave him my number (out of drunken pity), he left defeated. ‘Occhio’ asked me if he could spend the night, which was fine. I went home, ‘Occhio’ walked his lady friend to her place, and said he’d meet me later.

‘Fixie’ was waiting outside my place. We went upstairs and drank more beer and watched more True Blood. He mentioned he’d seen ‘Nickle’ at the corner store. I assumed he was at our local bar, so I went downstairs to the deli for some food, and walked over to said bar while I was waiting. He was there smoking outside with some friends. I said hi, invited them all over, and went back to pick up the sandwiches I’d purchased. ‘Occhio’ arrived at my place. We finished watching TV and me and a naked ‘Fixie’ went to bed. Thankfully, ‘Nickle’ never came.

Monday, all my guests left to their respective workplaces. I dilly dallied a bit, cleaned my apartment, went to yoga, and met ‘Young Seth’ for our “date”. We started at a local Thai place I’d never been to. The beginning of the date was almost a great as the food. This one seems very sweet and young, yet a bit innocent. Almost a bit too innocent for a jaded guy like me. All I kept singing in my head is Taio Cruz’s catchy “Break Your Heart”.

We left the restaurant and discussed where to grab our next drink. We nixed Metro for fear of running into other people we might know and settled on Phoenix because it was the second to last night till the place regretfully closes. Before heading over, we made a pit stop at my place so I could change into a more weather appropriate shirt. The summer has almost abandoned New York.

We had a couple of beers at mine, and watched the A-List. I could tell he would’ve been fine with staying there and fooling around, but I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go with him (yes, I have a conscience and I’ll kiss a thousand boys, but I try not to sleep with many, especially simultaneously), not was I nearly sufficiently drunk to not care, so we left for the East Village.

Phoenix was nice. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you want to look at it, since the bar was closing all drinks were two for one. We started with ginger (whiskey for me, vodka for him) cocktails. The ethanol was working its magic on us and eventually we started kissing. I do fancy this one, he seems sweet, nice, cute, and a potential good relationship. However, like I said before, I don’t think I want that. I am not there right now and I will probably just “break his heart”. I said hi to a few familiar faces. I could tell the whole time he was wondering what I meant by “friends” and “I know him”. All I can say is he needs to change his outlook because I was once there and it does nothing but make you go crazy to think that way, ESPECIALLY in this city. For the record, one I fooled around with months ago, the other I was meaning to fool around with but never happened and now we’re just friends, the last I’ve never felt any desires to do so.

We left after about four drinks. I was feeling a bit “in the mood” and asked him if he was coming over. He said he had to get up quite early but was thinking about it. I clarified there’d be no actual sex. He gave in.

The night was good. The boy is handsome and has a nice body. No, he is not ripped but, to me, a nice body means someone who obviously cares about their physique, yet doesn’t obsess over it, and is not going to be staring at the mirror the whole time we’re fucking. We fooled around for a long time. He gives good head, and even better anilingus. The thing about young boys is that they’re so willing to please their older counterparts. Sometimes I take advantage of this. I was quite tired and drunk so I suggested we finish off. With a tongue up my ass and my hand on my cock I did so at the same time he did. I passed out almost immediately.

I woke up a couple hours later to him getting up. I went to the bathroom to wipe my own dried up genetic material off my chest, and asked him if he was alright. He seemed a bit frantic and said he was leaving because he was afraid he wouldn’t wake up in time for whatever it was he needed to do that morning. I was a bit annoyed because I thought that was typical young guy behavior. They lack etrickquette. I smoked a cigarette, watched from my window as he walked to the train, and went to bed.

This morning I woke up and nixed yoga. I was a bit too hung over. I took my dog to the vet for a travel certificate, went for a mani and a pedi, and came back home to write and work a bit. I was texting with him for a bit. He apologized and asked what my schedule was like for the next week. I assume he wants to see me again. I also talked to ‘Nickle’. I have a date with him tonight. What can I say? A few of my older European friends have always told me I am an attractive, young, fun, and somewhat successful guy, and I should take advantage of that while I can. I find it hard to disagree.

If Helen Marnie’s words are true, I should enjoy it because I won’t be able to later… “when you’re twenty-one, you’re no fun”.

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26.08.2011

Take it east (Love nothing)

“Don’t take it too bad it is nothing you did. It’s just once something dies you can’t make it live”.

Wednesday night I slept over! I feel accomplished yet meek. I’ll backtrack a bit. I did bike ride to sushi. I had all sorts of raw sea creatures and some beer all by myself just how I like it. It brings me back to my days living in LA when I would go alone to Little Tokyo, order enough sushi, sake, and beer to feed a small Japanese village, and then bike home and pass out. At around midnight I headed to the bar. I smoked a cigarette outside before going in and met the usual familiar faces. I walked in and ordered a beer (that was my mood for the night). I proceeded to say hi to DJ who didn’t give me my usual peck, instead we just acknowledged our presence. I left him to his own turn table devices and walked back to the bar to talk to two guys who had hit on me the moment I got there. One of them, the ugly one, was being very annoying touching my beard and asking for my phone (the actual gadget, not the number). I politely excused myself and his friend, the cute one, apologized.

I finished my drink and went outside to have another cigarette and call a friend. I called ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ to discuss my upcoming California trip, talked for two smokes’ time, said hi to another familiar face, and went back in. I ordered a second beer and sat by the bar talking to some young, ugly, rich fatty who seemed nice but I could tell he was miserable. He struck me as the guy who doesn’t know how to socialize and relies on his wealth and connections to try and entrance others into liking him. I am sorry but wealth will never be what gets me. I was all by myself and bored so I gave him the time of the day for a bit. I kept staring at DJ off the corner of my eye. He wasn’t his usual self. I excused myself and went to the bathroom.

On my way back to the bar, I ran into another familiar face, some attractive guy from grindr who had sent me a very nice full frontal of himself, and who I’d met a few weeks ago through DJ. I approached him and stroke up a conversation. His boyfriend joined (yes, he has a man, no, that didn’t stop him from sending noodz). It was all around nice. We went outside to have a ciggy and ran into this other boy I kind of have been obsessed with for a long time. I introduced myself pretending I vaguely new who he was (in reality, he might’ve popped up once or twice in my head as I was busting a nut).  We went back in for more drinks.

DJ was being a bit more attentive. I saw him make out with some random guy by the bathroom. Later he came over to talk to me. The guys I was smoking with were all nice. We talked a bit more and one by one they disappeared. I went outside to have another smoke.

Throughout the whole night, black dude from last Friday was lingering around the bar. I said hi to him, it was a very: “I know you and you know me and we’ve both fooled around with the same guy, but that’s OK, I (me), unlike you, do not care because if I want to, he’s spending the night with me” exchange of politeness. I wasn’t keeping tabs on him, but I believe he left at around 3am. I somewhat remember him saying goodbye.

I went back inside and noticed a cute boy staring at me. I ordered a drink and approached him pretending he was a friend of a friend (who is actually a friend of mine, but who’s really paying attention). He invited me to sit. Him and his Australian friend were nice. I could tell he was into me. DJ’s make out buddy was nowhere to be seen. I went outside with new boy and he suggested we go home together. I kind of really wanted to so I went back inside to tell DJ I was leaving when BOOM! who’s pussy whipped?! that’s right. ME! DJ suggested I come over. I went outside and told cute boy I had to stay with my friend who needed to talk and made plans to see him next week. JESUS CHRIST! what the hell?!

** side note: I am going to try and rationalize this. I think I stayed for many valid reasons (or at least I’m trying to convince myself they are): DJ is a safe lay, way safer than a complete stranger; I wanted to prove that neither black dude nor other dude would leave with him (why the fuck am I this territorial! I guess I don’t care what he does when I’m not there, but when I am, I somewhat do? especially if I know I’m way better looking than the other options); DJ lives a few blocks away, cute boy lives somewhere in south Brooklyn; I biked and I had to work the next morning, it would be easier to get to work from DJ’s; I wanted to see if I could do a two night in a row situation with him. All in all, I think that, although they might seem like stupid reasons, they somewhat make sense, and also, leaving with cute boy would’ve been something I did just to show DJ that me coming to his party does not mean me sleeping over. Who am I!? **

I went back to DJ, we finished drinks and went home. No sex, just cuddle. I liked it.

Thursday I woke up and got ready. DJ invited me to go see Cat Power with him that night. Three nights in a row?! I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore. I told him I had to hang out with a friend (‘Fixie’) so I couldn’t. It was raining outside. I biked to work and ended completely drenched. The day was slow. My dear ‘Fixie’ flaked on our bike riding plans because of the rain so I texted DJ and asked him if he still wanted company. He replied: “I’d love to”.

After work I biked to the west village, met him and his best friend for a nice pescatarian dinner, and then we biked to Webster Hall. I was a bit annoyed that DJ charged me for the ticket. I am aware he is Jewish, but the thing about me is if you’re not stingy with me, you get the world in return. Naturally, he gave his best friend a ticket for free. The show was amazing. Her voice is surreal, and other than the masses of lesbians (nothing against them), and boys who looked like lesbians swaying back and forth with their eyes closed, I had a good time. Me and DJ were acting disgustingly cute and lesbiany. Yes, for a second there, I was holding him from the back and we were swaying. I laughed the whole time in my head.

We left before the encore and walked towards the gym where his best friend had left his stuff. We picked up the bag, kissed goodnight, and biked our separate ways. Did I want to spend the night again? Maybe, but I don’t think for the right reasons. It would’ve been just to prove to myself that I could, and that would entail neglecting my puppy, so I made the conscious decision of not even trying to suggest it. I texted ‘Fixie’, per his suggestion, to see if he was down to meet me for a drink. It was around 11pm, and he never replied. I went home, bought some beer, delved into the various social media, and passed out around 3am.

Today I’ve been making lots of jokes about the hurricane. I don’t know why, but I love the fact that everyone in New York is so jaded that they find it funny and find it a reason to party. Me and ‘Fixie’ already have something in mind for the weekend. I haven’t talked to DJ. I don’t know what’s going on, again, I’m just going with the flow. Tonight I have a date with ‘Nickle’. We are going to his friends’ place in the Upper West Side for a BBQ. We will see how that goes. All I want to say now is that last night I was having a bit of anxiety about this whole situation. I don’t like the feeling of losing control. I was listening to music and I remembered who I used to be. I will try to refocus on that.

“Now I do as I please and lie through my teeth, someone might get hurt, but it won’t be me. I should probably feel cheap but I just feel free.. and a little bit empty. No, it isn’t so hard to get close to me, there will be no arguments, we will always agree, and I’ll try and be kind when I ask you to leave. We’ll both take it easy.”

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24.08.2011

Where I’m going…

“Take my hand if you know where I’m going through, take my hand if you know where I’m going”. The blog keeps taking better form as the days go by. Today I will, as usual, talk about the past few days which have, just like the blog, been taking better form.

Sunday I started to work all by my lonesome self. The day was going slow until my good ol’ friend ‘Occhio’ showed up with sour candy (a personal addiction of mine). He very often visits which is why I’ve given myself the liberty to bestow upon him the title of “Unofficial Honorary Intern”. There wasn’t much to be accomplished that day so we just hung out, skyped with ‘Jose Maria’, and caught up. I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as I used to.

After work I went home and he went to hang out with his other friends. I didn’t have many plans for the night ahead other than watching True Blood, but an acquaintance of mine (‘Jay & F) who I had sex with a while back texted me saying it was his last night in town and he was going to Gansevoort. I told him I’d meet him there. I texted a couple of friends and hopped on the L towards the meatpacking. The party was not very happening. The boys were not my taste. My mood wasn’t exactly the best.

I ordered a drink and searched for ‘Jay & F’. He didn’t seem as friendly as I had expected, maybe he had that bit of post coitum awkwardness still lingering around. To be honest, I didn’t think much of the time we had sex. We were drunk and that was it, I’m not really into him nor was I at the time, but maybe for him it was different. He IS a bit younger, and he acts more like your average gay. I pretended not to notice and proceeded to talk to him and introduce myself to his friends, all Chelsea boys. They were all a bit stand offish. I suppose that is the case when they meet a fag who doesn’t share their aesthetic beliefs of “perfect” ripped bodies, and thorough manscaping. One of his friends, an Asian gay of deceiving age who happened to work with ‘John G’, kept hitting on me and touching my lips over and over saying they were amazing. I acted evasively coy.

I texted ‘ John G’ to see if he was coming. He said he was on his way and would arrive in half hour. We all ordered more drinks, I smoked (none of them did), and we talked more about what we did and where we lived. Again, God forbid the socialize with anyone living east of Union Square, north of 59th, and south of the numbered streets. They all finished their drinks and left. I smoked another cigarette and waited for my friend.

Lately, I’ve been enjoying more and more ‘John G’s’ new outlook on life. He used to be way more negative and antisocial. I attribute most of his recent change to his new job. I think he was miserable in previous work environments. We talked about Grindr, and how he’s now on it and enjoying the good and the bad that comes from it. I reassured him that, as long as he’s smart about it, it’s a fun way to meet guys whether they end up being friends, fucks, or life partners. One last drink and we were out. He wanted to go to Cielo and, although I was a bit skeptical due to my first bad impression of the place (see previous post about my crazy night at ACE hotel), I agreed. I’m all about not letting bad experiences leave me with sour tastes.

Cielo was stupid. We paid a five dollar cover and it was somewhat empty. We ordered a drink and danced for a bit. I was somewhat drunk. I spotted a cute boy who I decided I’d talk to. He turned out to be German, what do you know? He wasn’t interested. I was a tiny bit. I didn’t want to drink more and was looking forward to my bed so I suggested we have a last drink and go home (my way of saying: “hey, I’m bored, but I’m wasted so let’s grab one before we hit the road”, usually this goes way better than being: “let’s leave”). I chugged the diluted concoction and headed for the door.

On our way to the train we thought of the magnificent idea of getting some taco bell to reminisce our Southern California days (that’s where we met). We walked all the way to Union Square but it was closed. I guess we forgot we weren’t actually in California. He asked if I wanted to go to another bar, but I politely declined and hopped on the train back to apartment. Time to cuddle with the pup.

Monday I did nothing for most of the day. I relaxed and had a chain smoking, pup cuddling, Mad Men marathon. I made some delicious pasta with fake meat sauce and mozzarella sticks. I texted a bit with DJ and mentioned I might be going out in his neighborhood later that night. I took a nap and woke up around 7. In a moment of pure drive, I decided to start doing yoga again. I got in my skimpy dolphin shorts, flip flops, and tee, swung my mat across my shoulder, and walked to my old studio. Note to self: DO NOT EVER stop doing yoga on a regular basis. I almost died. It was not unbelievably hot or anything in particular, but I suppose I was really out of shape. For the first time ever, I felt dizzy, had tunnel vision, and took a break between poses. Somehow I survived and rushed home to watch the A-List.

A friend of mine who bartends at Phoenix had suggested I stop by because the bar is closing soon and I haven’t seen him in a while. I skipped the A-List, showered, and headed to the East Village. The bar was kind of empty but nice. I ordered a drink, he gave me a shot and a beer. I ordered another drink, he gave me another beer and another shot. I was pretty drunk. I met some familiar faces and some short guy, ‘Claude’, who looked very much like my friend’s ex (except my friend’s ex is straight and lives in LA). We started talking and he asked me if I wanted to go with him to Eastern Bloc. I hadn’t talked to DJ, and I didn’t really feel like going there with someone else because I know a lot of the people there and I just wasn’t comfortable, but I did. The place was also empty. Saw a couple of familiar faces, ordered a drink, and got another one for free. ‘Handsome Wednesday’ was there. Coincidentally, he was talking to DJ on grindr. For a split second I wondered if they’d fuck. Just for a split second.

‘Claude’ suggested we go to a karaoke place and have a bottle of champagne he would buy. I agreed. We walked back towards Phoenix and ended at some tacky place I always see and wonder who actually goes there. Now I know. He knew the bartender. He asked for the bottle of “champagne”, which actually turned out to be really cheap Prosecco. We had a glass and he sang a song. He had a nice voice. I am not quite sure when the night took a wrong turn but somehow I ended up outside smoking a cigarette being lectured on my rudeness. Apparently, without my knowing, I was being impolite for going on Grindr (which I did when I was at Eastern Bloc talking to Handsome Wednesday looking for friends), and he was not going to sleep with me. I honestly missed the memo that said I was on a date and that I was planning on sleeping with him. I wasn’t opposed to it, but that was definitely not my intention. I left and sent him a message on Grindr (yes, he was on it too!) saying: “honestly you got me so wrong”.

Tuesday morning my dog cuddling, chain smoking, Mad Men marathon continued. My productive day started a bit earlier tho. I went to yoga at 4:30 pm. It was not as bad as the day before. After sweating my sins out I went home, made food, and continued my morning activities. DJ texted me saying he was in Brooklyn with his best friend biking and asked what I was doing. I replied: “to be honest, I’m naked laying in bed, smoking a cigarette, and watching Mad Men”. I wasn’t trying to be flirty. He asked if I wanted to join them and then maybe grab some food. I said yes, threw some clothes on my stinky, salty body, and went downstairs with my bike.

The ride was nice. We rode all the way to the water on the Greenpoint side and then back to Williamsburg for some delicious Mexican food at Mesa Coyoacan. To say they loved the food is a understatement. DJ’s friend already went for more today (according to Facebook). We rode back to my place where they dropped me off. Me and DJ kissed for a long time. I told him I’d text him later if I was in the city because I had plans to meet with a girl I went to elementary with later that night. I took a shower and off to Le Bain I went.

The Standard was packed. It was a The Blonds party which, frankly, I could care less. I met my “friend” there, she looked like what I would expect her 12 year old self to look 14 years older except for her voice, which was terribly similar to the way Mexico City Preppies talk. I guess I shouldn’t be THAT surprised, she does come from money, but she’d fled the country way before I did, so I expected her to be significantly more whitewashed than I am. Despite us never having a close relationship, she seemed very happy to see me. She was there with her friend who was, in fact, a Mexico City Preppy. We promptly exchanged stories, where we’ve been, what we’ve done, where we’re going. It was a nice encounter. I remember back in elementary I used to think she was really cool. It was satisfying to see that now it was the opposite. I stayed with them for two drinks’ time. I texted DJ to see if he was still up. He was. I asked if I should come over, he said: “yes but we’re only cuddling”. I am not sure how I felt about this but it seemed a bit odd. Last time we spent the night together he wasn’t his usual ass eating self, and now he was saying this?! I mean, I don’t mind it at all because half the time I’d rather cuddle than fool around. Less anxiety the morning after, but still… my worse case scenario self made me think there was something more severe. It turned out he’s just had a tummy ache for the past few days. I bid my new friend goodbye, and cabbed it to his place.

Upon arrival, we got naked and did just that: cuddle. It was short and sweet. We tried watching some TV but surprisingly enough I was sleepy without being wasted. We slept naked waking up a few times to switch spoon positions. I slept for 10 whole hours. What the fuck? is all I have to say about the night. It was nice but very different in all aspects. I woke up, he offered to make me food (eggs), but since I don’t partake in eating chicken fetuses, I thanked him and declined. I got dressed and walked to work.

I’m having a cigarette right now. I just got home from yoga. I’m going to take a shower and bike to get some sushi, and then to my usual Wednesday spot. Will I go home with him again? Honestly, I don’t know. That would be two nights in a row, and is that really where we are? I’m not going to think about it too much. Tomorrow I’m meeting ‘Fixie’ at my work so we can bike back to Brooklyn together for some dinner, drinks, and whatever else.

“Take my hand ’cause I know what you’re going through… Half the time I had no way of knowing…”

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22.07.2011

weekend boyfriends!!

As I had mentioned, I went to work straight from DJ’s apartment, unshowered and smelling a bit like sweat and sex. The day went by quick. After work I rushed home thinking our bus for Atlantic City left at 5:45. I packed quickly, walked my baby, freshened up, and headed to some hardcore porn headquarters in the same building as DKNY and other fashion related companies somewhere near Times Square where I was to meet ‘Fixie’.

A bit of background on my future weekend boyfriend: I basically fell in love with him the first time I met him about a year ago. He is, physically, almost exactly what I look for, I don’t think there’s a creature in this planet who fits the bill 100% but he comes pretty damn close. At the time he had a boyfriend, but he seemed like a sweet guy that I’d like to know more and possibly wait for. We got to hang out a few more times and I got to hear the usual drama that comes with having a significant other. The more I saw him and the more I got to know him, the more I fell. We’d kissed a couple of times and discussed the possibility of sex. I am very into him, however, we live very distinct lifestyles and for me it’s just been a matter of “Can my horny penis finally deliver the coup de grâce to my over analytical anxiety ridden brain?”.

I was a bit hesitant over what the weekend might bring. I was anxious over drinking because I knew that that would most certainly help Mr. Winky dish his final blow, but in a way, I was somewhat ready for it. We walked across the street to Port Authority. He informed me the bus wouldn’t be leaving for another hour so we decided to grab a smoothie and wait in line. He is so damn dreamy.

Upon arriving at Atlantic City, our friends were nowhere to be found. ‘Fixie’ and I wandered around for an hour till they were courteous enough to show their presence and let us in the room to drop our bags. The weekend started on an off schedule. They had already eaten, we were starving, so we opted to go have dinner and meet them later for drinks. They kept texting us to hurry. I had a slight feeling they were trying to find out if we’d fuck already. The tension was there. Finally we met up with them at a club on the rooftop of our subpar “resort”. The moment we walked inside the club, we knew we were the two hottest guys in the room. Most eyes were on us. We developed a certain sense of entitlement, and I believe that was what started solidifying our ‘weekend boyfriends’ status. We had a few drinks, but they were ahead of us and left before we did. We were pretty tired from the long trip so we left the bar and headed to the room. No kissing. No sex.

The next morning again our friends wanted to eat a proper breakfast, we wanted smoothies, so we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. We walked along the boardwalk. We bought matching tees. I was feeling like a 12 yr old school girl hanging out with her crush. It was kind of cute to say the least. We ended up at a starbucks on a mall sipping on some subpar smoothies. Again, mom and dad kept texting to see where we were. A couple of friends of mine (including the love of my life/best friend a.k.a. ‘The Wife’) were driving from Philly to meet us for the day. We ended back at the room where we downed a couple vodka sodas and finally headed to the beach to meet the rest of the crew.

The beach was nice. I normally hate it, but me and ‘Fixie’ had decided to just have a crazy silly weekend and go in our speedos to try and ruffle up some guidos. Again, most eyes were on us (although for different reasons). ‘Fixie’s’ zebra print banana hammock out did my Euro sleek black Dior ensemble. He looked adorable. We splish splashed, smokey smoked, and tanny tanned. Very unlike me but, like I said at the end of the previous post, my  bastions were promptly crumbling.

After the beach most of us opted for buffet. I discussed with ‘The Wife’ my feelings and concerns at the moment over ‘Fixie’. As expected, she suggested I just go with it. We stopped by the room prior to getting food. My sober self for some reason agreed to take a shower with ‘Fixie’. This was not me. This was not me. We had our first full view of each others’ genitals. I’d heard about his, and they were certainly as beautiful as they’d been described/ I’d been expecting. My usual self consciousness wasn’t there.

We walked to the buffet and stuffed ourselves beyond our skinny (or not) capabilities. After food, ‘The Wife’ and her friends headed back home. The rest of the posse decided to give in to the already present food coma. That night we were gonna try and do a pool party, Jersey Shore style.

Prior to la piscine, we went to a drag show upstairs. It was pretty phenomenal to say the least. After the show, we bar hopped along the boardwalk a bit. Per a handsome bartender’s suggestion, we nixed the pool party and headed to a beach bar. It was empty but drinks were cheap. We then tried to hit the Chelsea Hotel but were denied entrance due to our outfits. I won’t even start on my feelings about subpar clubs telling me how to appropriately dress. The girls who were with us stayed there, us boys decided to walk back to the club we were at the night prior. We made a pit stop at the beach where I had a one to one with my friend ‘Mexican Paddington’, then he had a moment with his beau ‘Queen of the Dammed’, and I had my first kiss/junk fondling of the weekend.

‘Fixie’ and I decided to strip down to our European beach attire and walk back down the boardwalk to the hotel weekend boyfriends status. Black girls loved us, black boys did too (although shh!!! don’t tell because they’re on the DL). People took pictures with us, gave us free stuff, and complimented us left and right. Again, most eyes were on us.

Back at the hotel, we decided to do the club in our speedos to top off the already atypical (although not really) night. People stared twice as hard as the night before. We managed to give a show, dancing on the go-go boys stage, making out, grabbing each other’s semi erect crotches, and whatever else my blurry memory won’t let me recall. We let our roommates head back to the room for a bit and do their thing, after all, this was their quasi-pre-wedding vacation. Not being very aware of the time we went back to the room a few minutes later not honoring our promise to let them enjoy man on man sex. We took another shower together. Somewhere out there there’s a video of me eating ‘Fixie’s’ ass in a New Jersey hotel room bathroom. Chip chop the bastion was down. I pranced around the room in my new found comfortable nudity and gave my first live sex show (although there wasn’t any actual sex, it was still very dirty). ‘Fixie’ passed out and I went to bed.

Sunday was our last day. We all checked out and walked down the boardwalk to where we were the night before to a cute little restaurant where the food and the ambiance wasn’t subpar, for once. Sadly, can’t say the same about the service. Again, somehow we all did our own thing and ‘Fixie’ and I ended up alone gambling. We started pounding drinks. We gambled some more. I was not very lucky, him on the other hand, had the typical case of beginner’s luck. I was out 100 dollars, he made a last minute $400 with the 20 bucks I gave him thanks to Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte. We went back to the beach for a celebratory make out session.

We meet up with the rest of the group and waited for the bus back home. On the bus ride home we were cuddly for a second, but that’s not really him, and it’s not really me either, lately. I took a brief nap. The whole weekend ‘Fixie’, being the sexually liberated over-evolved gay man he is, was blatantly talking to other men for sex, although he made sure to always include me in the plans. It bothered me a bit, for some reason, although I’m not sure why, yet at the same time, it’s kind of comforting to watch him be so open about it. I woke up and blatantly asked him if we were having sex when we got back to Brooklyn. He said he was already talking to someone else, but he was free on Monday. I said I had a date. I guess there’s always next time.

We got back to New York. We all went our separate ways. I met up with my friend ‘Buck’ and co. for some night before night before last partying. Still being in my beachy pool mood, we ended up at the rooftop at the Gansevoort. Then Greenhouse. I was mighty wasted so I did my usual disappearing act and, unlike my usual self, proceeded to booty text both DJ and ‘Fixie’. Throughout the whole night, I could not shut up about ‘Fixie’. It felt nice. I don’t think I could date him, although I’ve been surprising myself left and right, but it was a great weekend. It felt great to have that sort of tender crush one has when naive, yet this time with the maturity to take it for what it is: just a crush.

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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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