‘Nickle’ | the.applied.process.

After Midnight (pt. 1)

“I can’t get my feet up off the edge, I kinda like the little rush you get when you’re standing close to death and you’re driving me crazy.”

It’s been forever since my last entry. I’ve been a bad writer but in my defense, I’m in love. I’ve been busy with ‘Nickel’ and although I have great things to write about, I’ve also been swamped with work and too hung over to focus… but fear not, here’s the first part of my past week and some change.

Last Wednesday was a long crazy day at work. Crazier than usual. We had one day between private events so I was overloaded with crews from both events packing and unpacking for the respective soirees. I had made plans with the Greeks to maybe have dinner at the Fatty Crab but for one reason or another it didn’t happen. Instead I called my babe and met up with him and his friends at Solas, he had plans to go with his friend to somewhere in south Brooklyn to check out the neighborhood before his friend settled on an apartment there. Of course we had more drinks than necessary and at about tenish we took the train to suburbia.

The hood was fine. Lots of brownstones, lots of brown people. We wanted to have dinner at some fried chicken place but sadly it was closed so we just walked till we found a bar we found appropriate and ate some southern food there. The bar, cheaply but aptly decorated, was nice, a potential good spot for future meet ups.

The whole night, I could sense ‘Nickle’ wasn’t in the right mood. After leaving the neighborhood we went back to The Abbey, as usual. We had a few more rounds of drinks and yet another long talk. For the first time ever, I managed to freak my man out. I casually mentioned that I see myself coming home to our apartment and seeing him waiting for me. He didn’t take it as casual as I meant it and got scared about the idea. Later I found out why, part of his baggage has to do with moving in with his ex, and it all made sense. I reassured him that I wasn’t pressuring him, and that I just meant that if he plans of having a life together with me, it only makes sense that at some point we need to stop paying two rents and start sharing closet space. A few days later, I cleaned a drawer for him.

Thursday the combination of alcohol and touchy conversations had me feeling a bit sick but, again, I was drowning in stuff to do at work so I barely had time to indulge my anxiety. That night we hosted an event by NASA and I got to meet Buzz Aldrin. I’d made plans to go see Sleep No More with my babe and his friends for his first time (and my second), so I spent the first two hours of the evening devouring the bite size hors d’oeuvres and drinking the various free cocktails I was being passed so I was in the right mood for the play.

I left at around 7 pm and met ‘Nickle’ and his friends for my second go at the previously underwhelming show. This time, I had a better experience. We gave it the first go together and at some point, despite wanting to be attached to his hip, I told him he should explore on his own. We all met back at the lobby bar, interchanged our annecdotes (mine much different that my first time there), and left to a nearby bar for a couple more drinks.

Before said bar, we grabbed a quick bite at a nearby deli and smoked a few ciggys. The night was slow from there. A few rounds later we were on our way back to Brooklyn and ready for bed.

Friday I purposely showed up to work a bit late. Again, I wanted to avoid the post-event clean up. I spent most of the day nursing my hang over and preparing for the night. ‘Nickle’s’ best friend was in town and judging from the first time I met him, I knew we’d be puking and stumbling back home. Not very different from our usual tho.

The babe picked me up at around close time and we walked over to Solas to dive into the craziness. Shots. That’s all I have to say. I was a bit nervous about the night. I of course wanted to hang out with the boyfriend, but I also wanted to give him some alone time with his bestie and I wasn’t sure if I was gonna feel left out. Being the amazing man he is, he did make me feel how he always says I should feel: “like the center of his world”. Shots.

The night turned into an insane, free and vastly flowing alcohol feast. We were rolling about 20 deep and I had more fun than I thought I would. Shots. His best friend, ‘Seek’, was already drunk, just like the first time I met him, except this time I got more quality time with him. I had a great time bonding and rebonding with my papa’s crew.

The plan included a dinner which never happened. Instead, we just picked up a quick refueling slice and walked over to The Boiler Room. Shots. More friends showed up. At some point I threw pepperonis at the crowd. Shots. ‘Seek’ was clearly in need of a soft place to lay before he lost complete control and crash into something hard. ‘Mrs. O’, ‘Seek’s’ beautiful sister, responsibly took him home. We left as well and cabbed it back to where else, The Abbey.

I’d continue trying to write about the night but by this point it would all be a work of fiction. I don’t remember what happened.

Saturday my babe got his ink cherry popped. We went to Three Kings, a tattoo shop in Greenpoint, to introduce him to his new addiction. Both him and ‘Seek’ got a unicorn on their leftarm. Again, I wanted to give him his space, but I just can’t get enough of him, and despite my stupid fear of feeling left out or intrusive, I wanted to start making memories with my lover. I constantly get a bit jealous of his relationship with his friends, I just wish I had met him earlier and had been around for all the insanity I’ve been told has happened.

The tattoo sesh went spectacular. I was running very late for work but I was glad to have been there. I finally got to my job 4 hours later than my scheduled time, and I was only there for a brief 180 minutes. I did nothing productive.

I left and rushed back to meet with the motley crew at The Abbey. As expected, they were already well on their way to booze land. ‘Nickle’ was MIA. Earlier that day I’d given him my keys so he could pick up his bike and take it home. Of course that didn’t happen. They’d just started drinking right after the tattoos and continued steadily for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. He showed up a bit later after being at my place and taking a shower. He mentioned he felt uncomfortably comfortable doing so and said he’d love to share a place with me one day. I smiled.

More drinks, more shots. ‘Jose Maria’ showed up for a bit, I left the crazies for a split second and went to a friend’s birthday for a drink’s time, and hurried back to my handsome. By that point I was beginning to black out and forget parts of the night. ‘Seek’ and company were physically gone. ‘Nickle’ and I were mentally gone.

At around midnight we went back to mine and passed out.

Sunday was one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time. I purposely took it off so I could spend the whole 24 hours with my man. I work Wednesday to Sunday, and he works Monday to Friday so we never actually have a free day together.

We woke up and watched ‘A Single Man’. I wanted him to see the movie because there’s a scene where the main character and his younger boyfriend are sitting on a couch across from each other reading a book, and I’d mentioned to him that scene makes me think of us.

After the movie, he made me pancakes with cinnamon apples. I’m sure they’re always delicious but… doesn’t food taste even better when you’re in love?

The original idea was to stay in all day but, to my pleasant surprise, he’d scored us tickets to The Creators’ Project in DUMBO which I was planning to go to, but had opted not to because my day was reserved for my babe. We finished eating, fooled around on the couch, took a shower, and biked to the bike shop to get our bikes fixed, and then to the art show.

We spent most of the day looking at the exhibits, running into familiar faces, and hanging out one on one. Sure, we weren’t locked inside my apartment all day, but it was still just the two of us. Mission accomplished.

At around 6 in the evening, we grabbed a bite and a drink with his friends, went back to see one last installation that required no day light to be fully appreciated, and biked over the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan to then get on the 5 train and up to The Seahorse Tavern, one of his friend’s bar, in the Upper East Side. Again, more craziness ensued. I was drunkenly making declarations of love to anyone who would hear (or anyone who I could force into hearing me), we turned the gastropub into a club, and drunkenly danced to the best of our abilities.

At the end of the night, we took an emotional cab ride home. My baby was tearing up and sad to see his best friend go back home, and surprisingly enough, I was too. The weekend served it’s purpose. Despite being secretly jealous of all the years and memories they’ve had together, I really enjoyed ‘Seek’, and I was ready to make some of my own with both of them. I have a hunch we won’t be remembering many, ‘Seek’ seems like my kind of lush.

“All along we talked of forever, ~~I kinda think that we won’t get better. It’s the longest start, the end’s not too far away.~~ Did you know? I’m here to stay”

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11.10.2011

Halo

“Remember those walls I built? Well baby they’re tumbling down.”

All I really wanted was to get out that plane and rush home to my boyfriend. In a surprisingly quick and effortlessly streamlined turn of events, the plane landed, the bags came, the cab was waiting, the traffic was minimal, and I was home faster than I’d expect to be. I texted ‘Nickle’ that I was ready and waiting for him. He showed up 10 minutes after I put my luggage down.

After the romantic movie reconnecting moment we hung out at my apartment for a bit, planned on going out for a drink to The Abbey, but ended up delaying that a bit for some quality sexy time. Drinks came eventually, but only a couple. All I wanted was to sleep next to my handsome and my pup.

Wednesday I had a really long day at work. Not being in for a few days really piles up so despite being tired, I rolled with the punches and worked it out. I was still on my “glad to be back in New York” high so time flew by. I made plans with ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ to grab a very inexpensive bite and some drinks but, of course, I had my own personal agenda: ‘Nickle’, so I managed to butter them up with a beer at my work, and then suggested we go meet my man and his lovely friend before doing whatever it is we were originally going to do.

We walked east down Spring and ended up at Milady’s where ‘Nickle’s’ friends managed to get us absolutely wasted for pennies and dimes. The start of the evening went great. We munched on some fried finger foods and drank and smoked like we usually do. I stepped outside for a second and talked to my friend ‘Chet’ who’s been going through a messy breakup and has been having a hard time dealing with it. I didn’t let him indulge much since his belle is one of my best friends and no one likes hearing negative things about their besties. I told him I had to get back to ‘Nickle’ which was my real reason for hanging up the phone. I just can’t get enough.

We had a few more unnecessary rounds and left. ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ went home. I headed with ‘Nickle’ to “the church” to go meet ‘Jose Maria’. From this point on the night gets blurry. Obviously, we kept on drinking. I remember making a point to introduce my man to DJ both to let ‘Nickle’ know I was dead serious about him and to let DJ know the same. We left shortly after and stumbled home.

Thursday was another unbelievably busy day. I felt like a true Mexican doing extensive physical work but, thankfully, the day flew by again. I left work later than usual and met up with ‘Jose Maria’ and a couple of the Greeks to have dinner before meeting a new Facebook friend I’d been meaning to have a drink with. We tried Hecho en Dumbo but due to my time restrictions decided to go across the street to Gemma. Dinner was not the best. I was still all smiles thinking about, who else, my man. We got a table later than I hoped for, ordered drinks and food, and waited a good 40 minutes till I switched to my usual “issues with service” mode and left my friends. It was 10:15 pm, I was meeting my friend at 10:30, and my food was nowhere to be seen. My Greek friends were not too pleased but, again, I was having a fit and there was no stopping me.

I hailed a cab and rode across the bridge and into Brooklyn to end at Metro. I ordered a drink, waited for my friend and smoked a cigarette. He showed up 5 minutes later. It was the first time meeting him in person. I had added this guy on Facebook a few weeks ago when I did one of those stupid Facebook apps that show you people who you have the most in common with and he happened to be, according to Facebook, the one in New York who matched me the best. After a few drinks, some dumplings, and a few cigarettes (on my part), I can see what Facebook meant. He was a writer who had a similar sense of humor and outlook on life. I told him I had to leave and meet my prince charming and so I did. He took the train back to Connecticut.

I stopped at The Abbey for the usual nightcap and my ‘Nickle’ fix. Not sure what he’s doing to me, but I’m clearly addicted. Hugs, kisses, “I love you’s”, and bed time. This crazy stupid Mexican was crazy stupid happy.

Friday was busy, but not as busy. It was nice to catch a break. I was also glad to have one of those nice 6 o’clock wine drinking evenings with ‘The Cock of the North’. It had been a while, but it was well welcomed. I had asked ‘Nickle’ to come with me to my friend’s birthday party around the corner and being the pleasing gentleman he is, he agreed. He met me at work, enjoyed some wine with me and my coworkers, and we walked over to El Portal for a burrito and a quesadilla. I’m trying to satiate him with as much south of the borderness as he can handle. We left the restaurant and met ‘Fixie’ who was also going to the party. Sadly, he’d been recently broken up with and was not in the best of moods. It is not my place to discuss the implications of said break up but all I know is that I’m here to help him in whatever he might need. We’re going to Florida next month.

The party was interesting. I was excited to show off my new man to my old friends but I forgot that the art school and fashion crowd is not always the easiest to swallow. Overall, it was fine, but there were a few moments that weren’t necessary, for example, ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ made a dumb comment on the age difference between me and ‘Nickle’. He’s 11 years my senior and that’s the least of my concerns, but someone thought it was worth putting it out there. Another friend mentioned that our dress style is completely different. Again, who cares?! I forgot, fashion kids do. We didn’t stay for long, the ambiance wasn’t right. I did my round of goodbyes and told ‘Fixie’ to come with us if he wanted to leave. He said he’d catch up later.

We strolled to a bar somewhere on Ludlow where two of his friends were bar tending. Upon arrival, I was greeted with the same excitement I’ve grown accustomed to. Apparently, this man talks wonders of me. It feels good to go places where they’re happy to see you even when they’ve never met you. Consequently, the bar tending girls kept the alcohol flow strong and steady. ‘Fixie’, ‘Mexican Paddington’, and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ stopped by for one last round and then we all took off. Before heading home I asked if we could go see ‘Jose Maria’ because I’ve been kind of neglecting him. Again, my prince obliged.

We drunkenly walked over to Ten Degrees and saw the Greeks for a split second. We were already wasted.

I was having so much fun that after leaving I wanted to stop for one last round at The Abbey. The moment we stepped through the door people pointed out how drunk we were. I was. I was intoxicated with alcohol and drunk in love. The friendly bartender poured us a night cap and sent us to bed. I have to say that despite my hypocritical bitching about ‘Nickle’ drinking too much sometimes, I had one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. I love having him as a partner in crime, and I also love that we’ve both agreed that every now and then it’s fine to get stupid.

The weekend was off to a good start. Saturday work. Standard. I spent most of the day gossiping with ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ and training the new intern who sadly happens to not be the brightest crayon in the box (which is ironic because she’s black… I’m not a racist, I just enjoy racist jokes). Come 6 o’clock we opened another bottle of wine and started the evening. My amazing boss and great friend, ‘The Cock of the North’, invited us all to Sweet and Vicious for a drink after work. ‘Nickle’ came to pick me up and we had a couple of strong margaritas. Apparently, during one of my drink fetching rounds my boss mentioned to ‘Nickle’ how happy he was for me. I am telling you, it gets better and better each day.

As planned, we left the bar to go grab a slice of pizza and walk over to a bar on 7th and 2nd for his friend’s birthday (what is up with these women getting pregnant in January!). I experienced the same usual welcome. They uttered the usual “So nice to meet you”, “We’ve never seen ‘Nickle’ this happy”, “You’re very lucky”, all of which I agree. We ordered a couple of drinks, smoked a few cigarettes, and I freaked out briefly when some guy was showing interest in my handsome. I am not a very jealous person at all, but I’m still in disbelief this man, who gets praised everywhere he goes, has picked me out of everyone out there. I am aware that I too am quite the catch, but I’m also aware there are better. Anyway… I constantly try to not over think it and just enjoy my luck.

We left his friends to walk down to The Delancey to meet my friends for another birthday party (seriously… January!). After trying to decipher where they were (the place has multiple stories and they’re not all easily accessible), we finally found them. We were already quite drunk and tired so we only had a couple of whiskey gingers, congratulated the birthday girl, and headed home.

We had a brief talk about my anxiety right around the corner. I love that he’s so understanding and willing to work with me. I suggested that instead of cabbing it, we just walked the Williamsburg bridge. Romantic. We talked and kissed and stopped and talked and kissed and stopped all the way to The Abbey. Again, plastered, we had a nightcap and headed home. Another happily drunken night to remind me to shut up and stop complaining sometimes.

Sunday I had to open. The train wasn’t running so I took a cab to the city. ‘Nickle’ tagged a long and picked up his bike in front of my work. It was a slow day and only me and the intern were going to be there today. Again, the intern proved to be quite useless when I asked here to do very basic computer stuff. I had so much hope for her sassy attitude and willingness to learn, but I think it’d be too time consuming to shape her into something of use. On top of that, I didn’t have the best day. I kept seeing pictures on Facebook of ‘Nickle’, and other friends out and about enjoying the great weather and here I was stuck in my 12 to 7. The only redeeming thought was my movie date later that night.

The plan was to grab a bite and go watch Limelight. ‘Nickle’ didn’t come till 7:30 which was fine except I really wanted to see him and I wanted to get out early. Regardless, my day took a turn for the better the moment I heard the sound of his bike chain clinking as he was locking it outside the theatre. Tickets, sodas, and caramel corn in hand we sat down to watch a mildly entertaining movie. Upon completion, we walked back to his friends’ bar on Ludlow for a few more rounds, and then to The Abbey to meet the usuals. The night was slow and quiet which was very welcomed because the past two nights we’d barely been able to crawl home. As promised, I told him I’d sleep over at his, and I quote him, “Polish palace” because I don’t work on Mondays and he does, plus I really like his place, so we dropped off my stuff, fed ‘Toto’ and walked over to Greenpoint for some sexy time before catching some Z’s.

Monday he woke up and got ready. He offered I could stay and sleep in, but I figured I’d be better getting up and having an early start. I had lots of plans for the day.

I walked with him to the train and decided to head to the city. I wanted to spend more time with him and I needed to buy some stuff for a couples dinner party I had planned that night with ‘The Cock of the North’, his wife, and my boy. Sadly, my boss texted me within minutes of getting off the train apologizing for not being able to make it. I was a bit bummed but had the dinner party anyway with ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’.

I bought some wine glasses and groceries, stopped by work (even though I didn’t have to come in), helped out a bit, and headed home to prepare for the night. I quickly cleaned, did some laundry, showered, and started preparing food. ‘Nickle’ showed up at 7 pm promptly followed by ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’. I poured them a glass of wine and continued my cooking. At around 8 pm we dined. The menu consisted of different lettuces salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, some garlic french bread, spinach fettucini with fake bolognese, and some bourbon and vanilla ice cream for desert. I stupidly undercooked the pasta and failed to deliver. Everybody was thankful and happy, but the dinner was not up to par with what I consider my guests deserved.

We spent a few hours watching bad TV and my guests parted one by one. I was left with my man, who’s no longer considered a guest. We talked a bit more, I asked him to have a look at my asshole because I felt a bit weird and I’m a hypochondriac, and then we went to bed. Again, he makes me smile all the time.

At around 6 in the morning we both woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. We had another amazing session of sexy time and got ready for the day. We walked around with ‘Toto’ and some morning beverages till we parted ways. He had to work, I had a doctor’s appointment.

I went into the city and to the M.D. for a new patient physical. The doctor, who happens to be ‘Nickle’s’ as well, was amazing. Despite being annoyed that I had to wait over an hour past my scheduled time, I was really glad to see him. I spent about 45 minutes talking to him about all my itty bitty concerns which made me feel better. My ass is perfectly fine. During the visit, I realized how much I’m enjoying this relationship, and how much I need to work on letting myself enjoy it. I left the office relieved and I walked to work. On my way I talked to my parents about the visit and felt reassured that they’re supporting me in all aspects of my life.

Tonight there’s another event. ‘Nickle’ mentioned he’d stop by, and I can’t wait to flaunt him around even more. I truly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

“I swore I’d never fall again, but this don’t even feel like falling.”

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08.10.2011

Home

“Well, hot & heavy, pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ! There ain’t nothin’ please me more than you”

On my first day as a coupled man, I was beaming and happy and somehow got to work in time. It was gonna be a long day and I was anxious (in a good way) to get it done or at least get it started. Upon arriving at the office, I told ‘The Cock of the North’ I now had a boyfriend. His first response was asking me “who?” and “why?” since I’ve been so adamant about staying single. After I mentioned it was ‘Nickle’, who he’s met, he said: “Congratulations!”. It felt good to hear he approved. I also called ‘Jose Maria’ who gave me an “I know”.

Wednesday night my friend ‘Geordie-Mo’ was coming to town from London and staying with me. Sadly, I also had the work anniversary dinner to attend and I was leaving to film a documentary in Texas the next morning, so I wasn’t going to spend much time with him, but I told him after dinner I’d meet for drinks at “the church” and also introduce him to my new man, who I wanted him to meet, but also I was just looking for excuses to see ‘Nickle’ again.

And thus the plans happened as planned. The coworkers and I met at the office, toasted to some champagne, and headed to dinner at Norwood Club. It was a nice soiree. It went on for slightly longer that I would’ve wanted to, but only because I had other engagements to attend. ‘Nickle’ kept texting me constantly, I believe he was a bit drunk, and at some point he texted me the three little words a lot of people dread: “I Love You”. I excused myself from the dinner table, went to have a cigarette and called him. I told him not to say such things.

*side note: here’s my thing about the “I love you”. I do not mind it at all. I believe that especially in America, it has a stronger meaning than what it should have which was my main reason why I wanted to talk to ‘Nickle’. I have said “I love you” pretty early in a relationship, and although we’ve only been officially dating for a day, we’ve been hanging out for 7 weeks now, so I can understand why he could potentially go there but, like I said, I just want him to be sure he’s saying it because he does, and not because he’s idolizing me or something of the sort, after all, I do have my flaws. The way I see it, I do reciprocate, but the fact that I love him does not mean “I LOVE HIM” in the sense most people tend to think. I love him and I will continue to do so and that love will continue to grow, which I feel is healthier than a loaded “I love you” which has been held back for a while for fear of releasing the meaning we’ve attached to it.*

Back to the story. So yes, I told him not to say that, but I told him I wanted to see him in person later to talk about it. I went back downstairs, had another drink, split the bill with my coworkers, and cabbed it to “the church” where ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Geordie-Mo’ were waiting. I greeted my brit with a huge hug and a kiss. We hung out and caught up over about three drinks, and a few more cigarettes. Even though he was here, the night was pretty standard. We left because I mentioned I wanted to go see ‘Nickle’ so he could meet ‘Geordie-Mo’.

We cabbed it to, where else, The Abbey, where I also greeted my new boyfriend with a huge hug and a wetter kiss. I introduced the respective parties and continued drinking. Anxiety decided to knock on my right temporal lobe’s door. I went into panic mode over the fact that I was now dating someone. I won’t delve into this right now, I want to write an entry about it, but at some point ‘Nickle’ mentioned he could see I was really scared, and I think I shed a couple of tears. We all went home. I went to bed with my man (it feels good to say that), and ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Geordie-Mo’ slept together on the couch.

Thursday my handsome boyfriend left early for work. ‘Jose Maria’ left shortly after. I woke up, finished packing, and headed to Union Square to drop off my dog at a pet hotel and then grabbed a bite at Fatty Snack, the Fatty Crab owned food stand on Madison Square Park. We then walked over to ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’s’ apartment to catch a cab to the airport and head to Marfa, Texas. God was I not ready for this.

The Marfa experience was a cluster fuck of desolate West Texas ghost towns, constant fear of desert critters, interesting (and I cannot stress that enough) insane characters, no first world commodities, run-ins with the border patrol, and one of the most amazing experiences ever all rolled up into one with a scary Texas Chainsaw Massacre-esque vibe.

Let me begin by mentioning how excited I was about this. ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ had mentioned she had a documentary to film as part of her graduating project and had asked if I wanted to join. The subject would be Dragset and Elmgreen’s Prada Marfa installation in the Chihuahua desert, as well as a story on the site representative and artist, Boyd Elder. I’d been obsessed with said installation for a few years now and, realizing it was in the middle of nowhere, figured I wouldn’t make the trip solely to see it unless an opportunity like this presented itself, so I agreed. We’d planned the trip for a while and that Thursday we started the 12 hour long journey that turned into 15 because of all the flight delays.

We got to El Paso quite late. We quickly headed to Walmart, picked up a few indispensable items (wine and cigarettes in my case, food in hers), and started the 3 hour drive to Marfa. It was scary. I’m talking about driving in the middle of a two lane highway with no lights other than the car’s with the occasional eerie sighting of things you can’t quite seem to describe what they are.

Sometime after driving for 2 and a bit hours we saw it. RIght there, in the middle of the road, a bright chartreuse rectangular beacon illuminating the barren landscape. We passed it and stopped, then reversed towards it. It was magical. My first impression tho, I was expecting something bigger, but there’s definitely no denying its striking presence. Obviously, we took a few pictures until we got approached by border patrol (for the second time so far) who asked for our ID’s and after proving our legal right to be in this country, wished us luck on our project.

We drove for another half hour to the town of Marfa where we were to spend the night. The apartment we rented was nice, except for its name and what it entailed: the yellow door. It was aptly decorated by hues of the aforementioned. I hate the color yellow. I drank a bottle of wine and dozed off.

Friday we woke up early and drove to the sight to begin shooting. I was in charge of the more “creative” shots. I had never handled a semi-professional video camera in my life, but somehow, I was surprised how natural it felt. Then I remembered how nifty I am and the surprise fade away. After about an hour of filming, Boyd Elder, the man of the hour, joined us with his mother. First impression: the guy looked insane but right off the bat I liked him. He was very nice and quite the character. His mother, a 90+ year old woman, was the same: incredibly nice and keen, yet she looked scarily aged. He invited us over to their place in the town of Valentine just a couple miles south of Prada Marfa. Again, his house was just like a set of a slasher movie: old, run down, and in the middle of nowhere. I have to make it clear that I am not trying to be demeaning here, to say they were incredibly hospitable is an understatement. I’m just pointing out the shock I experienced due to the contrast of what I’m used to.

We talked for a bit as he gave us a tour of his property. His studio was insane, but the stories were even crazier. This man has had such an amazing life, and the list of names he mentioned as close friends are enough to make any dumb big city socialite stick their head in the ground. The Eagles, Joni Mitchel, Ed Ruscha, Donald Judd, Razorlight, you name it. Old and new. Music and art. Hollywood. New York. Europe. He has it covered, and yet you’d never expect it from looking at him. Never judge a book by its cover has never been more true.

After a few hours we headed back to Marfa to get ready for an art opening at Ballroom Marfa, the nonprofit local art space. One of the things that struck me the most about this town was how even with its population of two thousand, it feels very international. People from all over fly to either of the two closest airports and drive for a couple hours to come to the different events that happen throughout the year. I met a lot of people from New York, and the east coast. I saw a few more that dressed the part so I assumed were also from out of town. We stayed till close and went back to our apartment. Boyd called us and invited us to the after party. We obliged and walked to Capri Lounge, another great old adobe building converted into a spectacular space that marries traditional with modern so seamlessly it almost feels indigenous.

We mingled a bit more, met a few key pieces of the Marfa community, and watched an all girl mariachi band perform. Still tired from the trip we called it an early night. I drank another bottle, ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ conversed with the pillow. I briefly talked to ‘Nickle’ who’d been texting me like crazy all day. He’d been professing all these things to me that to be honest made me more anxious. I don’t know where he’s getting all these strong emotions from, but they’re scary. It feels nice, but almost too nice to where I want to run away. I had anxiety all day, but somehow, the thought of that nightcap made me somewhat hold it together. I talked to ‘Jose Maria’ as well and passed out.

Saturday we had plans for more shooting and at some point in the evening head 2 hours south west to some hot springs. I am not the biggest nature fan, and after hearing from the locals that these hot springs had no phone reception at all, I was a bit more apprehensive about going. Nevertheless, I always give things a shot. We spent the day with Boyd at his studio taking some more video, and driving around his town to other parts of this decaying community of less than 50 people. He took us to an abandoned theatre he plans on restoring and making his new studio. Again, it was very different from what I’m used to so I gladly welcomed the experience. At around 4 pm and after receiving lots of food from his garden, we took off and headed back to Marfa. We interviewed some of the people behind the Ballroom who sponsored the Prada Marfa project. Their house, again, was an amazing restored army barrack who’s original structure was left intact, and was just restored to rival any fancy apartment in New York. It was stunning.

The interview went on for a bit longer than expected, but by around 6:30 pm we were on our way south to Chinati to disconnect from the world even more.

The trip was a pain in the ass. The sun was slowly but surely setting, and we had limited amount of time to get there before we were left again in the dark, except this time it was off road. Unfortunately, the sun beat us and we ended up driving in a very scary dark dirt road for about 45 minutes till we finally found our destination. Naturally, we didn’t go in the hot springs. It was already dark, we were terrified of desert creatures, and there were lots of children around. We just drank wine, chatted a bit and passed out. I tried contacting ‘Nickle’ who was being a bit crazy (by my weird bias I have) but not as much, but was quite unsuccessful because of the lack of signal.

The next morning we woke up and went to the springs for 45 minutes. We had an interview to shoot at around 1pm so we left the “resort” and headed back home. Another run-in with border patrol.

We got back to the apartment and freshened up and headed back out to record the ex-mayor of Marfa talk about the piece. The man was also very nice. It seems like everybody who’s there is there because they truly love the town, and they all seem quite happy. I’m baffled because I think I’d go crazy… then again, they all are significantly older than me.

After the interview he took us to another house he owned that was, just like the house we’d seen the night before, amazingly restored and enviable. I’m beginning to notice a trend here, and maybe a reason why these people love this little shit town so much. Funny thing: you will find a yarn store, but a decent place to eat food in the morning or night? No sir, no way.

We went to the neighbor town of Alpine to buy some DVD’s to burn and dump some of the vast files we’ve amounted, and after doing so, we headed back to Prada. This time we planned on actually interviewing Boyd, but despite being an angel, the man is not the easiest person to work with. That, on top of the fact that we weren’t properly prepared with charged batteries or free memory cards, prevented the interview from actually happening. Instead, we went to the installation site and filmed a time lapse of the sunset. It turned out nice.

At around 8:30 pm, we drove back to Marfa in the pitch of darkness. We cooked the food we planned on grilling the night before at the springs, I drank another bottle of wine, and talked to both ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Nickle’. The former helped me relax a bit, the latter wasn’t being as crazy, which I attribute to him not being as drunk as he sometimes is. I feel like I should talk to him about it, and I probably will. I’m just not sure when because I feel it’d be hypocritical, but I do worry sometimes. Regardless, always happy to talk to him, and despite the massive anxiety I’m getting about him and the trip, I wouldn’t change it. I went to bed with yet another smiley face.

Monday was a long day. We woke up early and, as promised to ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’, I made a soyrizo scramble for breakfast. It wasn’t as good as usual, but still better than most the food we’ve been having. We started the day by interviewing the architect of the installation, and then the head of the local newspaper. Nothing really stood out about either, except for maybe the kindness of the first, the nervousness of the second, and the trio of turkeys crossing the road in between both interviews.

As expected, we rushed back to Valentine and the Prada Marfa site. We met up with Boyd and finally got some kind of interview. We then went with him to the theatre he’s restoring to meet with a group of Architecture students from some University in the north of Texas who were doing a project helping restore the site. Me and ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ started joking about deciphering the boys’ sexuality. We headed back to Prada, did some more sunset shots, and another interview with Boyd, and then drove him back to where the students were camping. We had a delicious dinner with them. Probably the best food I had the whole time I was in Texas, which is disappointing considering I was expecting gaining a few pounds of amazing Tex-Mex morsels. We drank a couple of beers, saw a baby tarantula, and drove back home. Another bottle of wine, a few episodes of TV shows I’ve been meaning to catch up on, another lovely call to my boyfriend who was sober and going to bed surprisingly early, and I called it a night.

Tuesday all I could think of was going home! Like I said, I had my ups and my downs, definitely an experience I was glad to have had, but not sure it’s necessarily my cup of tea for more than 3 days. This city mouse is ready to leave the country vermin to their own environment and head back to rummaging the New York City Subway tunnels. We did a couple of last minute shots in the morning, one of Boyd’s art at some rich lady’s expectedly beautiful house, and another one of the Chinati foundation and Donald Judd’s sculptures. We stopped by a gift shop, bought a couple of souvenirs, and headed to Valentine to bid adieu to our West Texas friends.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. No waterworks despite the fact that I got surprisingly attached to some of the characters in the documentary.

We drove back to El Paso, had lunch at some awful pseudo-Mexican restaurant, and boarded a flight back to Dallas, and then New York. I am typing this on the latter. It’s almost time to land and I cannot be more excited. I get to see my boyfriend. I get to see my dog. I get to see a decent bar. But above all, I get to come to my own personal haven. I believe that the recent changes in my relationship status have a lot to do with how bad my anxiety has been, but also, the trip drained me. I love traveling and I enjoy my friends but every now and then I like to know I can just go and lock myself in my room if I need a moment to breath. Again, where were my ruby slippers?

“Ahh, Home! Let me come Home! Home is wherever I’m with you.”

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03.10.2011

You Give Me Something

“I was meant to tread the water, now I’ve gotten in too deep. For every piece of me that wants you, another piece backs away.”

Preamble to a pivotal moment.

Friday I worked. Nothing special nothing new. After work I had plans to finally have the toga party I’d been organizing with ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ and then meet ‘Nickle’ at a karaoke bar in China Town for his friend’s birthday. The first part of the evening fell through and the second one wasn’t going to start till much later so I met ‘Jose Maria’ for dinner. We went to BarMarche on Spring and Elizabeth because I’d been wanting to try their famous shrimp risotto. I was disappointed. However, I had a great time as I spent most of it advocating for my behavior and my emotions to ‘Jose Maria’ who was questioning my recent affair with ‘Nickle’.

We left the restaurant, met up with ‘John G’, and walked to China Town to sing some out-of-tune tunes with ‘Nickle’ and co. My future exboyfriend was late, and I wasn’t planning on staying long. I was still in a weird game playing mode, despite not really wanting to. I feel like more than playing games, I’m trying to conserve who I am and not just let myself go completely because I don’t like myself much when I do. I only stayed for a drink after drunken ‘Nickle’ came and I left with my peeps to go meet some of ‘Jose Maria’s’ friends at Boxers in Chelsea.

The bar was horrible. I had never been but I could not find a redeeming quality for it, other than maybe I got to hang out with a questionably straight friend of his friends who I used to think was very good looking till I saw pictures of him all trimmed and proper. Again, we didn’t stay long. A couple of cocktails and awkward moments later we were out the door to meet more of ‘Jose Maria’s’ circle at a different part of town.

The night led us to the appropriately named Hell’s Kitchen to a bar called Industry. Being well aware that said bar was not going to redeem the evening I started drinking more and planning my escape. There is really nothing worthy of telling other than I met a boy who ‘Jose Maria’ likes who I thought was somewhat cute and decided to flirt a bit with him just because, I wasn’t going to do anything at all, just wanted to see what the boy would do. I stepped outside with ‘John G’ and we opted for heading home without saying goodbyes, much like I sometimes do when I’m drunk, bored, and have better plans in mind.

Before heading home, I stopped at ‘The Abbey’ where I naturally ran into ‘Nickle’. I had a couple of drinks with him and we went back to my place. I really enjoy his company more and more every day yet, at the same time, I’m somewhat hypocritically concerned with his drinking habits. I rarely see the man sober, and I’d really like to, yet I don’t feel it’s my place to say so. We sloppily cuddled and passed out.

Saturday morning I met ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ at her school so she could show me some pointers about how to use the equipment we were going to take on an upcoming trip to Marfa, TX to film a short documentary she needs in order to graduate. We showed up at work a bit late and spent most of the slow day planning the rest of our trip and looking for Yankee tickets. I had decided the night before that rain or shine and despite the price I was going to see the Yankees before the season was over. I posted my plans on Facebook and asked in anyone was interested in joining me. One of ‘Nickle’s’ friends wanted to but our schedules didn’t mesh so I ended up buying two tickets for me and a coworker for Sunday evening.

After work I met ‘Jose Maria’ and his friend in the West Village for dinner. We went to a new place called Empellon. The food was a deliciously new take on Mexican. ‘Jose Maria’ had had a crazy night and me and his friend just kept trying to lighten the mood by casually teasing him about it.

When we left the restaurant, we witnessed a guy in his bike get hit by a cab who’d run a red light. The cab driver stupidly tried to argue his way out even though there were about 20 witnesses who clearly saw it was his fault. He then more stupidly took off without waiting for the cops. To be honest, I feel slightly bad for him, but that was a pretty retarded move. I stayed with the accidentee for half hour till the cops came and gave my info in case they needed my statement. ‘Freckles’, who was in town visiting and I’d met earlier in the day, showed up with ‘John G’ wanting to go dancing somewhere in the meat packing. ‘Jose Maria’, his friend, and I were not really in the mood so we tried diverting them to other bars. At some point, the ambiance changed and no one was really feeling it. Everybody was being undeceive and I got annoyed so I bailed on all of them and headed to Brooklyn. I was craving some ‘Nickle’ time. I met him at The Abbey for a few more rounds with his friends. Naturally, we got even more drunk and went home.

Sunday morning I woke up and fooled around with ‘Nickle’ for a brief bit. I rushed to work because I was opening and I was the only one with keys. As usual, I was a bit late but it wasn’t an issue. I had decided to make the day a short one as I had a Yankees game to go to. I spent most of the time training the new intern and wasting time watching youtube videos. We all left at around 6 pm and I headed to the stadium.

I was extremely excited for the game. I had never been to one and although I’m not a huge sports fan, I do love going to games. My coworker added to the excitement because she, as well as everyone around us, is an avid fan. The game, aside from the Yankees losing, did not disappoint me. It went into extra innings and I’d made it a mission to stay till the end. It only took 5 hours. ‘Jose Maria’ kept texting to meet up, but I didn’t. We left at around 11 and headed back to Brooklyn. Again, I went to The Abbey, met up with my handsome almost boyfriend, and decided to spend the night together. This time, however, we went to his place.

He lives a 10 minute bike ride from my place at a studio on the top floor with an awesome deck. He was a bit apprehensive about taking me there because, as he’s been before, he was a bit insecure about what I’d think. To be honest, I don’t get why. I am far from judgmental, and superficial things are never an issue.

I woke up when he was trying to kiss me goodbye, he offered I could stay and leave whenever as he had to work and I didn’t, but I didn’t feel I should the first night. I took off on my bike and went to see my dog. I spent most of the day running errands and I went to the IFC center to see “Weekend”. ‘Ursa’, the wife of ‘The Cock of the North’, texted me to invite me to go see Oh Land perform later that night but I had made plans with my friend ‘Bellefille’ to have dinner with ‘Jose Maria’, so after the movies I went to meet them a sushi bar in the West Village. I hadn’t see her in a few months so I couldn’t cancel, and I wanted to catch up. Luckily, ‘Ursa’ texted me saying the band wasn’t playing till 10:30 pm so I had time to do both and I told her I’d be there.

After dinner we went for a quick drink to ‘Bellefille’s’ new apartment she’d bought with her husband. The place was incredible, a three story penthouse in NoHo with magnificent views of downtown. We polished a bottle of champagne and I left.

The show was great. I’d seen Oh Land before but never a full set. After it was done I texted a friend from San Diego, ‘Baby’s Arm’, who was in town to come meet me for drinks at Swift on Bowery and 4th where I was going to meet ‘Nickle’. I can’t stop thinking about this man. I want to see him all the time. ‘Jose Maria’ joined as well. We had our first drink, and having to show my friend around we left and walked to The Boiler Room. Again, one drink and out the door we went. The next bar was The Cock, which ‘Baby’s Arm’ favored over the other two. It was getting kind of late and we were all ready for bed so, after another drink and some shots, my friend went back to his hotel and me and ‘Jose Maria’ went to Brooklyn. We stopped by The Abbey for a nightcap and then headed home. I had a massive anxiety attack over ‘Nickle’ and where things were going. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t enjoy losing control, or opening up.

As a somewhat predictable twist of fate, ‘Nickle’ rang my door bell. I slept next to him and somewhat calmed down.

“‘Cause you give me something that makes me scared, alright. This could be nothing but I’m willing to give it a try. Please give me something ’cause someday I might know my heart.”

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23.09.2011

Not Drunk Enough

“So I’m gonna get myself another drink whenever I start to think about you ’cause I do what I really don’t want to.”

Tuesday morning I didn’t really give much thought to my post ‘SF boy’ feelings that I might have lingering in my head, I was too excited about ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ coming to the city for the night to care about anything else. I did, however, text him about potentially going to Le Bain that night because I thought he would enjoy it. Guess what?! He never got back to me. I carried on with my day doing a bunch of nothing for the most part, I was feeling restless, anxious, and annoyed. I somewhat needed to go to work earlyish but I didn’t end up leaving my place till the evening for some event we had scheduled.

As soon as I arrived to work, I partook in the free vodka drinks that were being offered by the event organizer. I didn’t really do much other than waste time online and make plans for dinner with ‘Jose Maria’ for a besties dinner since we haven’t spent much time together. I’d also been talking to ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ who was going to her own work dinner, and then meeting up for drinks. I texted ‘Nickle’ about his plans for the night because I wanted him to meet her, and he agreed to meet us after he got off work. Apparently, he had a big project to turn in the next morning and he’d have to be there for a while. I finally coerced ‘Jose Maria’ to trying a Japanese restaurant we’d never been to, Robataya, in the East Village and I left work to walk over.

Dinner was delicious. So delicious that we managed to rack up a very hefty check, drink 4 bottles of sake, and eat enough fish, sea food, veggies, and meat to almost have the staff cut us off (or at least give us a strange look). We finished before I had heard from ‘Nickle’ or ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana”, so we stood outside the place smoking cigarettes and waiting. After 5 minutes she called me half drunk to see where she should meet us. I told her to stay in place and we’d come to her. Girl isn’t the best when she’s intoxicated. ‘Nickle’ mentioned he was about to get out and was about to walk over to wherever we were going. I told him to meet us a Bowery Hotel for a drink and we’d go from there.

We picked up ‘Dandayamana Janushirana’ and walked over to Bowery and 3rd. We ordered a drink, kissed, hugged, gossiped, and waited for my suitor to arrive. As soon as he did, I introduced them, got him a drink, and then my two friends went outside to smoke “a cigarette”, which I took as code for “let’s talk about this man without them around”. I’m sure it wasn’t in a bad way, I’m still interested in knowing what they said, and I’m glad they did so to each other because I like things to be as unbiased as possible. They came back and we left to go to 10 Degrees. We had a few more rounds, ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ should’ve probably stopped, ‘Nickle’ should’ve probably drank more to catch up. Me and ‘Jose Maria’ were fine.

The bar hopping continued across the street at a place that’s name I always forget. We had some pickleback shots, and a couple more drinks, and we proceeded to “church” where me and ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ gave a stellar drunken pole dancing performance to an almost empty bar before she almost passed out on the bench which was our cue to leave. We put her in a cab, one of the pious patrons invited ‘Jose Maria’ to karaoke which he accepted, and me and ‘Nickle’ headed to bed. Apparently, I was significantly more inebriated that I am willing to admit because I passed out on the cab, and then passed out again somewhere in my living room, so ‘Nickle’ carried me to bed. What a gent.

Wednesday morning I made it a point to get to work early. I failed. I interviewed a very creepy intern mid day who seemed very smart but a little off. The cherry on top came when she left, walked up the stairs, and I noticed her legs were covered in scratches and bruises. I gossiped with ‘The Cock of the North’ about her for a second, and then ran some personal and work errands. I ended up making plans with ‘Nickle’ and our friend ‘Viquers’ to meet later that night for a drink at Metro.

I got home at around 7:30, quickly walked ‘Toto’, freshened up and headed to the bar. The whole day ‘Latin T’ was texting me to see if I wanted to hang out, I mentioned my plans and he said he’d come meet me. Boy was I not ready for what was about to happen. Apparently, ‘Fixie’ and him went on a very brief Grindr date a few months ago where ‘Latin T’ managed to get himself kicked out of the bar 20 minutes into it. When he arrived, he was a bit drunk (as usual), and I sensed something slightly off about the night. I introduced them all and ‘Latin T’ was a bit apprehensive. I tried to buffer the situation but wasn’t very successful. I hadn’t eaten so I made plans with my two friends to get some noodles, ‘Latin T’ didn’t want to join. Instead, he went home and said he’d meet later to come with me back to the city to meet ‘Jose Maria’ who was having drinks with ‘Tiny Narcissus’ who had just gotten back from Greece.

I apologized to my friends for ‘Latin T’s’ behavior, but I should’ve apologized even further. As soon as he met us again, he made some very rude comments to ‘Fixie’ saying every time he saw him he was making out with someone different. I was shocked by his boldness so I asked what his point was and mentioned I too have kissed half of Williamsburg. He acted defensive. ‘Fixie’ handled the situation magnificently, as he normally does. ‘Latin T’ was being pushy about leaving and continued being rude to my friends. I was about to leave him, when he hailed a cab and we left for the city.

We arrived at 10 Degrees where ‘Jose Maria’ and co. were and waited for ‘Latin T’s’ friend to come meet. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t being an asshole to my other friends. I mentioned to ‘Tiny Narcissus’ that I might be going to Greece with ‘Fixie’ in February. ‘Latin T’ asked me if we were dating. I was getting more and more annoyed. I just said it was non of his business, but no, he’s just a really good friend. ‘Latin T’s’ friend showed up which diverted his attention from me and my friends. For some reason I don’t quite understand well, ‘Latin T’ started crying within 5 minutes of her being there. Apparently she was at a work party where a guy he randomly hooks up with was. I pried a bit more and found out that said guy cheats on his boyfriend with ‘Latin T’. The situation just kept getting messier and trickier by the minute. I was severely confused. I have no idea why he’d have such an issue with ‘Fixie’ and his making out habits or mine, when he’s obviously not the most saintly gay man in New York.

I decided to switch into damage control mode and suggested we go to “church” so I could take him away from my other friends and maybe leave him there. He agreed. As we were walking over I could tell he was more drunk than I’ve ever seen him before, which worried me because I didn’t really want to be associated with him at the bar for fear he’d start something and I’d become guilty by association. As soon as we got to “church” I casually left him to his friend and chatted with the regulars. Two drinks later they wanted food and left me.

I was ready to go home and maybe see ‘Nickle’. I texted ‘Jose Maria’ to come meet me and I started walking his way when I ran into ‘Latin T’ and his friend again. They asked me to have a drink with them at this restaurant they were eating. I obliged and texted ‘Jose Maria’ to meet me there so we could go. Ten minutes later he came and I took a cab as far away from him as I could. He drunkenly texted me asking, and I quote, “where the f r u”. I didn’t reply. I pride myself in being nice and giving people second, third, and fourth chances, but with this one I’m done. He has severe issues and I don’t even think Mother Theresa has the heart to deal with this level of charity of work.

We met a very drunken ‘Nickle’ at The Abbey. Again, not surprised. We didn’t stay long, after we left ‘Jose Maria’ was going to spend the night so we walked back to my place. I started getting an incredibly strong anxiety attack to the point where ‘Jose Maria’ couldn’t calm me down. I wanted to text ‘Nickle’ and tell him I couldn’t deal with him. ‘Jose Maria’ wouldn’t let me. Regardless, I did text him saying I needed to talk to him. Within ten minutes he came over. I calmed down a bit and, instead of talking, he ate my ass, I jacked off, and don’t remember passing out or cumming. Next thing I know he was on the floor sleeping with his head on my boot, and I was on the couch. I pulled out the futon and dragged him to it. He woke up somewhat early and went to work. I woke up a bit later and realized I had dry semen all over my chest and abdomen. Apparently, I did cum. ‘SF boy’ texted me to meet him for lunch before he headed back home but I couldn’t. I took a shower and hurried to work because I really needed to get there soon. I had to interview an intern at noon.

I was a minute late and the intern was waiting. I didn’t have time to catch my breath but the interview went well. She’s a lovely black girl from Brooklyn with no experience in the field, but who seemed sassy and smart enough for us to mold her into a great addition. We hired her on the spot. The day was slow.

I had texted ‘Nickle’ a few times during the day and we had made plans to meet for a long overdue sober dinner where neither of us would drink. He came by my place at 9 pm. Sadly, I tasted whiskey and beer upon our first kiss. He confessed he had a couple drinks prior to coming. I was a bit disappointed and it kind of raised a flag because I’m starting to think that, much like myself, the man might have a slight problem, and as hypocritical as that sounds, I might not want that right now. Still… it is not the right time nor is it my place to bring it up… yet. He took me to Tabare, a restaurant on Driggs and South 1st. He’d never been but I had. Our unsuccessful sober date continued with a bottle of malbec. I decided to give up and just give in to my soothing, anti-anxiety, self prescribed medicine. I mentioned to ‘Nickle’ that it is in fact, not him, but I who has the issues. I can’t control my anxiety too well and all I asked for was that if he wanted to continue getting to know me, we take it slow and be completely honest with each other, and not to freak out when I do. It sat well with him. The man is winning me over little by little.

Half way through dinner ‘Fixie’ texted me to come meet him and his friend at The Abbey for a drink. Again, sober date = total fail. We finished our food and headed over for “just one drink”. Unrealistically, it was not “just one drink” but we did manage to stop after 2 or 3. The Abbey was the usual good times. Lots of familiar faces and cheap booze. We left at around 1 in the morning and walked home to go to bed. This morning, he woke me up with his lips around my lower head, and we jacked off together. He left at around 8:20 and I went back to sleep for a couple of hours. I woke up and took a couple of the homeopathic anxiety pills he had given me the night before. I think they worked. But if they don’t, I always have my whiskey and wine.

“And when I get there, to a place where I see you in a kitchen, I stop wishing but that thing and I don’t need you. I don’t really wanna see you and I don’t want you to see me. You would think that I was crazy,
you might think that I wanna be close to you but I’d rather wanna drink some Whisky and maybe have a little sip ‘o wine ’cause right now it`s the only thing that makes me forget you are mine.”

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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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18.09.2011

Get Myself Together

“It’s all over like steps in the first snow. Something’s been building up and it’s gonna blow.”

Anxiety.

Friday morning ‘Nickle’ had left before I woke up. He wrote me a note saying he was sorry but he had to go to work. It’s all good, I had to do the same. I got to work a bit late on purpose because I didn’t want to deal with the clean up from the event the night before. The day was uneventful.

I left work at around 7 to go meet ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ for yet another art opening. This time: Andy Warhol at Gagosian on 21st. The show was amazing, to say the least. It was only about his screen prints of Liz Taylor, and ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ and I got inspired for our Halloween costumes. Without giving much away, they are going to be amazing. We ran into ‘Afterline’ who, in his usual way, suggested we go to some “hip” party at the hideous Dream Hotel in Chelsea where James Murphy, of LCD Sound System fame, was DJing. I was hungry and so was she so we told him we’d go eat and meet up later. We left promptly and walked to Blossom on 9th and 21st for some upscale delicious vegan yumminess and to talk about our future trip to Texas.

After dinner we went to Dream hotel for a drink and to wait for ‘Afterline’ and co. I was texting with both ‘Nickle’ and ‘Jose Maria’ to potentially meet either of them if I didn’t end up staying for James Murphy. Three drinks and an amazing conversation later, we decided to leave and I decided to go home. I was tired and I wanted my time alone.

I got home and drank all the open bottles of alcohol I could find. Wine and vodka mostly. I had been getting overwhelmed with the whole ‘Nickle’ situation feeling like I was losing myself and my independence so I wanted to find someone on Grindr, go meet them at Metro, and have a random make out session with a complete stranger to prove to myself that I’m still my own person. Stupid perhaps, but I thought it therapeutic. Sadly, the Grindr boys did not deliver.

Once I had a decent buzz, I took ‘Toto’ for a walk and stupidly strolled in front of The Abbey. I ran into ‘Nickle’ who greeted me with much excitement (as usual). He asked me to stay but I mentioned I was tired and would go to bed soon. He asked if he could come over later, and I, being the nice idiot who never says no, told him to text me when he was going to leave and if I was still up he could. I thought that was a nice compromise although to be honest, I shouldn’t have compromised my night at all. I was a bit annoyed at myself and anxious.

I went back home and continued my quest for some fresh lips to kiss. It was still very unsuccessful. I decided it was time for bed when destiny slapped me in the face and just as I had turned off the lights and plugged my phone to charge, he texted me saying he was coming over if I was still awake. I should’ve not replied, but for some bizarre reason I did. What’s wrong with me!? I turned the lights back on, went on facebook and firmly convinces myself that I was only going to wait ten minutes or two songs’ time, whichever came first, and then I’d really go to bed. Again, just as the second song was about to finish I heard the bell ring. The handsome Floridian had arrived.

I’m not sure if he was expecting more but I told him I was still very tired and would just go to bed. We kissed for a second and cuddled the night away.

Saturday morning we got smoothies and he took a cab with me to work. The trains weren’t running and he needed to get back in the city to pick up his bike. ‘The Cock of the North’ was outside smoking a cigarette when we walked by. We all had a brief conversation and then I went to work and ‘Nickle’ went for his green vehicle. At work I was interrogated whether this man and I were boyfriends. I said no, not me, no way, no sir. I only stayed for a couple hours because I had made plans with ‘The Wife’ to go to Philly so we could then go to Camden, NJ and see our favorite band in the whole world Blink 182. Don’t laugh. I made it to my train just in time and I slept the whole ride west.

While in Philly, we quickly grabbed a bite to eat at some tapas restaurant that was actually surprisingly good, bought a bottle of whiskey, turned it into road sodas, and cabbed it to the venue. We got just in time to see My Chemical Romance open for the boys. I wanted to puke, not because I was drunk, but because of the music and the crowd, so I decided that if I was indeed going to vomit it would be out of too much drinking and went to get another unnecessary drink. We then finagled our way to better seats and waited for our teen idols to perform. I was more drunk than I thought I was and a bit sad because I really wanted to remember the show so I started texting myself the names of the songs so I’d at least know the set list. Somehow, we got even more drunk and did something quite embarrassing that we managed to block out of our memories for the time being. We peed on the bleachers not once but twice!

The show ended and we uselessly tried to get a cab. There were nowhere to be found. Then we tried hitchhiking but I don’t think Jersey people are very fond of New Yorkers or Philadelphians so that proved futile as well. We eventually just went to a bar to let everything die down and wait, but after some quasi sobering food we decided maybe we’d try and walk the bridge. Luckily, we found a cab around the corner, pretended to be whoever the cab driver was supposed to pick up, and stole it. ‘The Wife’ passed out on the way and my pigeon-like sense of direction kicked in so somehow I lead us home. Our plan was to stay up for a while, but again, we were more drunk than we’d like to admit it and by half past midnight we were already in bed.

Sunday we woke up and went for bagels and juice. I was supposed to catch my train at noon, or so I thought. Again, I didn’t have the best luck with cabs because I forget we’re not in New York and we actually have to plan ahead, so I ended up getting to the train station fifteen minutes past my alleged departure. When I tried to change my ticket, the lady pointed out that I was actually 12 hours and 15 minutes late as I was supposed to have left the night before. Silly me. I paid the extra twenty bucks for the next train and left 13 hours afters I was originally supposed to leave.

When I got back to the city, ‘Nickle’ had texted me that he wanted to see me. I reluctantly agreed I would. He suggested we meet by the ferry, take the boat to the city, and bike to the West Village to meet his friend who was about to finish an HIV/AIDS charity bike ride from Boston. Although I still wanted my alone time, this sounded fun so I accepted his invitation. When he rode in to the dock he was looking extremely handsome in his gold bike helmet (which he recently spray painted), aviators, a blue sweater, jeans, and chucks. How can I resist this man?! To add insult to injury, the boat ride was too damn romantic. Again, how can I?

We rode for half hour till we got to 13th and 7th. His friend was just coming in. I started getting really bad anxiety for some reason. I did not feel comfortable. ‘Nickle’ knew a lot of the gays present, which is fine, and is why I like him, because he’s so different from all of them, but there was something about the whole thing that just rubbed me the wrong way. I felt odd and was ready to make an excuse to leave till the damn mind reader suggested we go eat and then meet his friends for drinks. I reluctantly accepted. Again.

Off we went further into the West Village. We ended up at Tortilla Flats for some very mediocre Mexican food. Another one of his friends joined us, this one I really like. We then went next door to some bar for the post race celebration. Again, my anxiety started fucking with me. I was briefly introduced to some of the older more “established” gay men I often try to avoid. There was something going on because I felt so out of my element, I couldn’t socialize with any of these people so I told ‘Nickle’ I would go because I had to meet a friend for some birthday drinks. The friend in question? ‘Latin T’. He offered to come with. I wanted to run away and scream but whatever, the bike ride over the bridge helped calm me down. We dropped our stuff off at my place and meet some of his friends, the ones I actually like, at some bar near my yoga studio. I didn’t stay long, they invited me to karaoke but I said I was going to meet my friend as promised and I’d catch up with them after.

I biked to Union Pool to a ‘Latin T’ surrounded by all female hair stylists. It was a nice time. I had a couple drinks, ate some tacos, bought him a shot, and then tried to stop him from getting into a fight. The man gets crazy when he drinks and has been banned from many a establishments. The altercation as well as some very personal revelations he was making were my cue to leave so I said my goodbyes and biked back to ‘Nickle’ and co. They were at some karaoke bar two blocks away from where I’d left them. I got drunk and sang Miley Cyrus – See You Again. They loved it. We dance and chanted and acted retarded amidst a rain of glitter that ‘Nickle’ had purchased for his biking buddy but had forgotten to give to. Me and ‘Nickle’ stepped outside and had yet another heart to heart. What can I say, he knows what buttons to push. Keep on digging that damn dagger into my chest, handsome, one day you might actually penetrate the concrete cardiac walls and get somewhere. We spent the night ensemble.

“I got, got to get, get my head back on. I got, got to get myself together.”

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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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10.09.2011

Right as Rain

“Who wants to be right as rain it’s better when something is wrong. You get excitement in your bones and everything you do is a game. When night comes and your on your own you can say i chose to be alone. Who wants to be right as rain it’s harder when you’re on top.”

Tuesday night I had a date with ‘Nickle’. We decided to meet at Fatty Crab because it’s one of my favorite restaurants, he’s never been, and it’s such an atypical date spot (very messy, hands-on, stinky southeast Asian cuisine) that I’d been wanting to take someone there. I’d been getting in date mode lately so after a good session of bikram, I showered, dressed up trendy, yet classic with a denim shirt, caramel leather belt, black skinny jeans, and chucks (yes, that’s me actually meticulously dressing up for a purpose), and smoked a cigarette as I waited for him to pick me up at 9pm outside my apartment.

Upon his arrival I noticed he too had taken the time to dig out the cologne from the back of the bathroom cabinet and iron his shirt, which he paired with some fitting blue jeans, and some purposely scuffed brown leather boots. He greeted me with a kiss and stated “I didn’t bring you flowers but I brought you…” as he handed me a bouquet of my personal favorite sour candy. He was aware I preferred sour over any other type of sweets, but not that this specific kind were my Kryptonite. I promptly digitally documented his deed and uploaded it to facebook. We took a train to the meatpacking.

The meal was very pleasant to say the least. The food? delicious, the conversation? effortless, the man? an absolute gentleman. He kept yearningly admiring me with such an honest stare that I felt both marveled at and respectfully undressed. Upon the end of dinner, the cavalier refused to take my card and paid for the more-expensive-than-average check. If I had known, I wouldn’t have ordered that second cocktail. I took this opportunity to suggest we grab a drink after since I felt somewhat in debt. He obliged.

I took my paramour a couple blocks away to Le Bain. To his expected unimpressed eyes, I had us breeze through the crowd and skip the line. Despite admitting to have wondered about it after watching the structure being erect over the highline, he’d never been to the rooftop before. It was the perfect continuation to an ideally perfect evening. We consumed a few libations, discussed New York architecture, and introduced him to a few familiar faces who later jealously congratulated me for my envious catch. We left after two drinks and took the train home. The plan was for the evening to come to a close but we spontaneously decided to get off at 1st ave and walk to Phoenix for the alleged last night it was to be open before its new Lesbian owner turned it into a lezzy irish pub (so the rumor says).

We didn’t stay long either. A drink later we were back on the street walking towards the subway. As a rule of thumb, I try and avoid the trains after 11:30 pm because they can take long enough for my usually inebriated patience to sit and wait. Luckily, that was not the case. We got off at our Brooklyn stop and walked past the bar we usually go to. We ran into a couple of his friends and decided to join for last last call. The boy and the girl aforementioned both took me aside separately and questioned my intentions with their friend. They stated the obvious: he’s a nice guy, he really likes me, they haven’t seen him this happy about someone in a while. I responded in agreement to everything they said: he’s a nice guy and I do enjoy the time we’ve spent together. After a couple more drunken interrogations from his keepers me and ‘Nickle’ parted ways. I had to work. He had to wake up in a couple hours and drive upstate.

Wednesday morning I woke up excited for work. It was the first time in a month that my boss, ‘The Cock of the North’, was back from vacation and I was excited to see him again. The man is more of a friend than an employer. Work went by relatively fast. I went home, did my usual 30 minute post-work duties and headed back to the city for dinner with friends at Buvette in the West Village. Despite all of us being utterly late, we enjoyed the evening. I often fail to notice, but I am pleasantly surprised how I am often the common denominator in these gatherings. All the people there know each other and casually hang out, but originally they met through me.

After dinner I left them and went to my Wednesday midnight mass. The night was methodical: same faces, same routines, same ending. I do not mind it, in fact, it’s part of the reason why I’ve made it part of my weekly schedule.

I ended up at The Cock with DJ & co. and later DJ & I ended up leaving together. Again, somewhat methodical: no sex, no fooling around, just plain cuddling. We did have a very interesting conversation about “out relationship” as he put it. Turns out, we’re both on the same page. I mentioned my date with ‘Nickle’ from the night before and running into ‘Handsome Wednesday’, he mentioned a similar instance with a hurricane Irene date. We teased each other and uttered the word ‘Paranoid’ to one another and went to bed.

Thursday morning I hurried home, took a shower, gossiped a bit with ‘Freckles’ (who’d been staying at my place) about my night with DJ and went to work. The usual.

My plans for the night were reserved for ‘Freckles’. We did yoga together for the first time, took showers, ate some food I made, and met up with ‘John G’ for some cocktails at Metro. I spent most of my evening impolitely talking to friends I ran into, but at the same time, my two add-ons were chatting with each other so I didn’t feel that rude. A long ago hook up, ‘Big Clay’, was there sans boyfriend. We talked for a while as I watched him getting progressively more incoherent. He’s known to be a bit of a lush and a big time drinker. ‘John G’ went home, me, ‘Freckles’, and ‘Big Clay’ left for Union Pool as I had promised her I’d take her somewhere straight so she could forget about her recent fall out with her beau. We ordered more drinks which only aided in making ‘Big Clay’ pretend to be bi for the rest of the night. He continuously kept hitting on ‘Freckles’ and then on me. I have to admit that although I am not attracted to ‘Big Clay’, there is still that feeling of “the one that got away” every time I see him. I know it’s pointless and I don’t encourage it but, for some reason back when I was younger, I really liked him. Maybe it is the fact that I was young and less jaded and fell for anything that would give me head. We decided to call it a night and walk home.

My “been partying for a few years now” self is not as patient as it used to be so despite the fact that I noticed ‘Big Clay’ stumbling his way home I was determined to go to sleep. Being an alcoholic myself I am quite confident in others’ ability to find their way back; ‘Freckles’, on the other hand, didn’t seem as certain and, after watching him ring on two doorbells right next to the bar and squint to try and make up if either of these was his apartment, suggested we take him home. I unwillingly obliged so we hailed a cab and dropped him at the corner of his block. Again, she didn’t believe he could make it so she got out of the cab and walked him home. I am aware of the dangers that come with leaving completely plastered people out to fend for themselves, but sometimes they need it. I finally caught some Z’s well past 4am.

Friday work. Still not being used to people paying for me whilst on a date, I had told ‘Nickle’ I’d take him out tonight my treat. The plan was to end at Momofuku, but he first suggested I meet him at a bar near Astor Place where his friend was working. While I do enjoy all the perks that have come with this new found relationship, I’m beginning to think that he might be a bit too much of a drinker, which would not be a problem, except I am too. And while this is all fun and he’s by no means an aggressive drunk, he sometimes is a bit sloppy. Regardless, I was thirsty and I did as instructed. Anxiety. Four or six drink/shots later, we left his friends and walked to the restaurant. No luck, it was packed. He suggested we walk to a noodle house he said he’d been to before instead and we ended up twirling and twisting ropes of doughy goodness on our chopsticks and into our bellies. Whether he had planned for this or not I am not sure, but my time to pay for dinner ended up being significantly cheaper than his, which I wasn’t too happy about.

We went for a nightcap at Phoenix then, strangely enough, to Ten Degrees. Anxiety. We tried taking the train but it was out of service so we hopped on a yellow cab back to my place. Apparently, I passed out of his lap on the way home. I also lost my phone, which I didn’t realize at the moment, but did so the next morning. We fooled around in my living room not caring that ‘Freckles’ might be coming back from her date any time. I switched to this recent Machiavellian mood that I’ve been having and proceeded to indulge in the idolization I was receiving. After I had my fix, I suggested we go to bed and sleep, and did so almost immediately but not before we fooled around a bit more. I am not certain for how long, but I do remember hearing ‘Freckles’ come home.

The next morning we finished what we had started. I enjoy the fact that this man has a very sexual appetite in the mornings because I usually do too. He started fondling my genitals till I finally woke up from my half asleep state and reciprocated. I came first, he followed. He’s noticeably loud when he does. I giggled at the thought of ‘Freckles’ hearing us not because I mind, but because she might find it funny. We walked our naked asses to the shower and washed away the gunk that covered our abdomens. We all had brunch at a spot a couple blocks away. Right after, he went his own way, and I started my long list of tasks before I left for California later that night.

I’m enjoying these two “relationships” that have sprung up on me. I am treading carefully. I am taking everything and everyone with a grain of salt. I am not letting myself get carried away by the same dumb emotions many seek and let themselves be blinded by. I am proving to myself and others two things: that while LOVE might actually exist, it is harder to find than we’d like to admit, and most of us never truly do find it, so why bother? And also that this whole idea of having to end up with someone in order to have an accomplished life is ridiculously outdated. I refuse to give in.

“Who wants to be riding high when you’ll just crumble back on down. You give up everything you are and even then you don’t get far. They make believe that everything is exactly what it seems, but at least when you’re at your worst you know how to feel things.”

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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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the.applied.process.

Tag: ‘Nickle’

21.10.2011

After Midnight (pt. 1)

11.10.2011

Halo

08.10.2011

Home

03.10.2011

You Give Me Something

23.09.2011

Not Drunk Enough

22.09.2011

Airplanes

18.09.2011

Get Myself Together

16.09.2011

Everybody’s Working for the Weekend

10.09.2011

Right as Rain

30.08.2011

Seventeen