Gansevoort | the.applied.process.

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…”

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.

the.applied.process.

Tag: Gansevoort

24.08.2011

Where I’m going…

22.07.2011

weekend boyfriends!!