Often times I wonder just why it is that I'm perpetually cursed with the lack of ability to pick up.
It seems no matter where I am, what time of day or who I'm with, I never really get chatted up or any other forward motion. OK, I know that you're thinking, "Steve, you have a boyfriend, why are you even thinking about this?" But it's relevant to a story I'd like to share about my time in London.
The funny thing about it is that Aaron (my BF) and I both feel like we're in the same boat. As we were getting to know each other, he described many similar things to me, including the lack of attention he felt when out and about. Unless we're mistaken, neither of us has been truly 'picked up'. Aaron has told me stories about sitting alone at a bar after work, sipping a martini and trying to look busy, hoping all the while that someone would sit down beside him and strike up a conversation. It never happened.
I guess it goes without saying that both of us would be hesitant to do the picking up ourselves. Aaron is quite shy in his natural state, and not very forward when it comes to dating. I would say the same about myself, that I would rather a guy approach me than have to casually chat someone up.
Part of it, surely, is being unaware. I often wonder how people unlock that awareness within themselves, to see flirtations at their face value and to easily navigate the talk to a favourable outcome. Unfortunately, even though I'm now 23, I still feel like a very naive teenager when it comes to such things.
But one night in London I tried putting that all behind me and took a half-step towards the great pickup.
My friend Ash and I were out for dinner in Soho, but decided to poke around the neighbourhood before sitting down to eat. We grabbed a pint, then walked the 'seedy streets' of sex shops. I found one that looked particularly nice, and particularly gay, and we went in to check it out.
Inside was much the same as any sex-related store worldwide, and we immediately set out sizing the place up. We found some nice underwear on sale, and Ash bought her straight friend a birthday present of (quite sexy) briefs with some pink lining. Apparently he isn't one to wear pink, or briefs.
As we walked around, the guy behind the counted began talking to us. He was cute, late-20's, and seemed genuine and friendly. For some reason I got a good vibe from him, a natural pull that went beyond just simple surface attraction.
When we walked deeper into the shop and out of earshot, I told Ash just how cute the shopboy was. "There's something about him that's really got a pull," I said, feeling a little fluttery. "He's damn cute too!"
She agreed, and angled me towards the counter. Ash is no shrinking violet, and is about as outgoing as one can get. She forced us into a conversation about Canada and my visit and about the underwear I was planning on buying there. We chatted for a solid 10 minutes before finally making our purchases and walking out.
For his part, the shopboy seemed to be engaged in the conversation, but my hopes of him sporadically asking me out were dashed as we walked out the door. "Damn, and there was something about this guy…" I said, trailing off into my imagination.
"So, you'd go on a date with him, if he was free," Ash asked, giving me a burning look.
"Uh, sure," I said, "but he didn't seem all that interested, I mean, he never said anything…"
By now we'd sat at our restaurant table and ordered another beer. Ash sat looking at me quizzically for a moment, then leaned forward. "If you want, I'll go back and ask him out for you," she said.
I put on a bit of a 'oh please' show for her, but deep down I genuinely wanted to see what she could set up. I finally agreed, and she skipped out the door and back to the shopboy.
For the next few minutes I sat in stunned anticipation. This isn't something that I normally do, or have people push for me to do, but it was exciting and I let myself daydream about a possible date in my near future.
Ash returned and sat across from me again, her face impossible to read.
"Well, first he asked why you didn't come back yourself," she said, "but I explained you're a shy guy."
I nodded along.
"Second, he's actually married, and is 32."
I didn't really have a problem with the 32 bit, but the marriage thing certainly didn't work.
"Third, they're expecting an adopted child within the next couple months."
This information seemed a little overkill, since I already understood the answer was no.
"But he never said he wasn't interested?" I asked.
"That part he didn't say," Ash smiled. "Sorry, though."
We laughed at my perpetually bad luck, and ordered dinner.
Showing posts with label Out on the Town. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Out on the Town. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
The Big Gay Weekend (Part 2)...
As we stepped inside, our host hugged James, and then myself.
"We go way back," he said casually, throwing on, "but how are you!? Haven't seen you in a while!"
I wasn't surprised at who opened the door...I knew a long time ago that James and our host were friends. He'd never really explained just how close they were, but it seemed that they were quite friendly (but no, not that friendly, you pervs...) Admittedly it was sort of intimidating knowing that our host for the evening was an acquaintance of mine that stretched back a couple years. Hell, I knew him before he came out, but I've never known him well.
I could tell he was a little surprised at the identity of the mysterious Steve that James was now seeing, but he shrugged it off. I'd love to be a fly on the wall after the fact, mind you.
As we stepped inside, James hugged each of his friends and did the introductions. I got a friendly handshake and hello from them all, and generally felt pretty at ease. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, chatting away rapidly with each other. The crowd was mixed; they were all roughly the same age, at at a distance they all looked somewhat similar, though close up you could tell each was a little different than the other. They all had a common denominator in my eyes: I'd probably gladly sleep with them all. They were all, in their way, quite good looking.
Since we had left my place in a hurry, I had forgot to bring a bottle of anything to drink. James had...a 4-pack of some variety of Smirnoff Ice. I shuddered as I drank the sugar-water, then glanced around to notice most of the other guests were drinking something similar. I laughed to myself, thinking how truly campy it was.
I also realized that most of the other guests were just that: a touch on the camp side. Not that there was anything wrong with it at all; they were all fun and cheerful, but I felt almost not gay enough. I mean, we're all homosexuals, but I just felt like I didn't have enough outward gay happening. I'm by no means the straight-jock-gay variety...but when placed in a room of slightly campy gay boys I was afraid I came across as just that.
During the next hour I had a few good conversations and got to know some of the guys a little. We talked about Pride week and what we took in school and the usual get-to-know-you conversations. I also chatted with the few girls who were in attendance, and found everyone to be generally good company.
James, being the lightweight that he is, was quite happy when he finished his second drink...while I was feeling positively nothing. Not in the best interest of the evening ahead, I though, though it would certainly help in keeping me from drinking entirely too much.
Someone sounded the alert and we all prepared to leave. As I was standing in the kitchen dropping off my empty bottle, I had a short conversation with a guy who had just arrived. He complimented me on my glasses and told me I had good taste, to which I complimented him on his really well done highlights. It was really funny to actually get to say such a thing out loud, and we talked about how he usually likes to have them done. It also gave me a little perk up; I wasn't falling flat on my ass, and it seemed that at least one of the boys didn't stop and ask who brought the ugly straight guy to the party.
We all piled into the elevator, James' arms wrapped drunkenly around my body. Someone not-so-subtly asked, "Oh, are they together?" as he moved in and wrapped us both in a hug.
The walk to the club was quick and loud, with everyone practically bouncing with energy. Thanks to some advance tickets, we bypassed the lineup and stepped inside. And there I was, past the threshold. Inside I gazed into a room dimly lit and full of boys. I may have swooned.
Our group had gotten a little split up as we tried to get inside, so James and I headed for the bar and bought an armful of drinks. It was at that moment I realized the interesting situation I was placed in. We were standing in line, with him in front of me and my arms wrapped around him. It was very calming to have someone to hold on to, someone who I was there with, that allowed me to hold him and that made me feel like I wasn't out of place and completely lost. It was also strange, because here I was surrounded with gay boys and had no chance whatsoever to slip into any of their arms.
In retrospect, it was probably for the best that I had someone that devoted their attention to me the entire night. Had I went in just as friends, I would have had to quickly tackle the whole flirt/nod/dance/kiss/etc with complete strangers, something I have no experience with and no idea how to do. But at different points of the night, I would still find myself thinking what it would be like to just go out and play with whomever.
The music throbbed as we danced on the spot, waiting to be served. Suddenly someone caught James' attention, and next thing I was shaking hands with a guy a few feet away, between patrons waiting for drinks. I retracted my hand, only to be introduced to another person, who rolled his eyes back, cocked his head and said something to the effect of, "Well I guess I'm not important to shake hands with." I offered it again, but he declined to shake. I then rolled my own eyes and realized I'd made my first bad impression/unfriendly connection with a bitchy queen.
With energy-drink-vodka-things in hand, we stepped back into the thick of the crowd...or what we thought was the thick of the crowd. One of the group came and took us by the shoulder saying, "This isn't the main room tonight...come with me."
We walked through a corridor, and into a room triple the size of the one we'd just been in, full of lights and fog and hundreds of dancing boys. It was as if the pearly gates had opened and we were presented with nirvana.
Immediately we all plunged into the crowd and music and started to dance. For the next five hours, we danced non stop. I danced mostly with James, but occasionally with one of the other guys or the girls in the group.
For the first time in my life, I danced with a freedom I'd never known. I moved and thrusted and waved like I've never done before, and I loved it. We laughed and grinded , as I watched the crowds around us do the exact same thing. Some were shirtless, others simply made out with each other. They were all mostly around our age, dancing, drinking and groping their way around the room. It was amazing. James and I danced, like everyone else, with enough sexual suggestion to frighten my grandmother to death (and probably my mother too), but it was fun to be able to. It all felt right, a verification of things that have been missing from my life so far.
I don't know when, but one of the girls accidentally knocked my glasses clear off my face. Thankfully I grabbed them as they slid down my chest, and I tucked them into my jeans pocket. Not having them on really didn't effect my vision in the dark and crowded room, and I felt less self-conscious with them off my face. I may not have taken off my shirt, but losing the glasses was liberating all the same.
There were some memorable fun moments, outside of the generally great time. At one point I noticed James making out with one of his friends, who then inched over to me and made out with me, who then pushed us all together and caused a three-way tounging. It was fucking hot.
There were also some moments that reminded me of the positive/negative of being there 'with' someone. While James was a few feet away, dancing with one of the girls, I kept noticing the guy to my left looking vaguely in my direction. He was cute, though not as cute as most of the other guys there. A large part of me wanted to shimmy my way over and start dancing, but I felt obligated to behave myself. We hadn't set out any rules about other guys, and I know it would have just been dancing/a kiss or two, all very innocent...but I still felt gentlemanly enough not to do it directly in front of my date for the night.
My most embarrassing moment came around three quarters of the way through the evening, when we were heading to grab a couple more drinks. James was leading me through the crowd by the hand, when I felt something underfoot. People had been dropping their empties everywhere, and I had just stood directly on one. It started to roll under my foot, and I went down like a ton of bricks onto the floor below. The people around us all looked over, and one yelled out, "Wow, someone better take him home, he's had way too much to drink!"
Being past midnight, and having had a couple drinks by now (though not enough to have caused the fall, thank you), and being mortally embarrassed by the fact I'd just fallen flat on my ass, I rose slowly, and using the gayest voice I could muster, and a fey limp wrist, I shot back, "Ohmigod, I think I've drank too much. Someone take me home?" I didn't wait around long enough to see if anyone laughed.
While I didn't feel drunk by the end of the night, I did feel exhilarated. It was such a great time, the energy of the crowd and the fun of the evening made me feel amazing. Even the next morning, I felt like things were blurry and fuzzy; the lights and the darkness and the dancing all made for a hypnotic effect.
Finally, the music wound down, and the crowd shuffled out. On the street we said our good nights, with a hug from each of the guys, and James and I headed back to my apartment. He wanted to walk back through the Village, so we did en route, to find it as packed as before. People spilled from clubs and bars, and the energy felt the same as before. And also like before, James grabbed for my hand as we made our way through the crowd. While I wasn't super-impressed, I didn't really mind at that point.
A girl staggered by us, smiling serenely. "You're beautiful," she said to me, "and you're beautiful," she said to James. "Happy Pride!"
We finally made it through my apartment door. As I switched on the light, James laughed. "Wow, your back is soaked!" he said, bemused.
I flipped on a light and looked in the mirror. "Eeeew," I said, seeing the dark patch at the base of my back. "That's gross. But doesn't everybody get like that?" I asked.
"Well, not everybody..." he replied.
Great, now I'm the only 21-year-old to sweat out half his body weight when he dances in a boiling hot club for the night. Come on, everyone must wind up this disgusting...right?...
"There's no way I'm sleeping like this," I said, "I'm gross. I've gotta shower."
"Me too," James said.
I went to my room, stripped, and stepped towards the bathroom door. My left hand clicked on the light, and I looked back over my shoulder to see James standing behind me.
"Well?" I said with a grin. "Coming?"
"We go way back," he said casually, throwing on, "but how are you!? Haven't seen you in a while!"
I wasn't surprised at who opened the door...I knew a long time ago that James and our host were friends. He'd never really explained just how close they were, but it seemed that they were quite friendly (but no, not that friendly, you pervs...) Admittedly it was sort of intimidating knowing that our host for the evening was an acquaintance of mine that stretched back a couple years. Hell, I knew him before he came out, but I've never known him well.
I could tell he was a little surprised at the identity of the mysterious Steve that James was now seeing, but he shrugged it off. I'd love to be a fly on the wall after the fact, mind you.
As we stepped inside, James hugged each of his friends and did the introductions. I got a friendly handshake and hello from them all, and generally felt pretty at ease. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, chatting away rapidly with each other. The crowd was mixed; they were all roughly the same age, at at a distance they all looked somewhat similar, though close up you could tell each was a little different than the other. They all had a common denominator in my eyes: I'd probably gladly sleep with them all. They were all, in their way, quite good looking.
Since we had left my place in a hurry, I had forgot to bring a bottle of anything to drink. James had...a 4-pack of some variety of Smirnoff Ice. I shuddered as I drank the sugar-water, then glanced around to notice most of the other guests were drinking something similar. I laughed to myself, thinking how truly campy it was.
I also realized that most of the other guests were just that: a touch on the camp side. Not that there was anything wrong with it at all; they were all fun and cheerful, but I felt almost not gay enough. I mean, we're all homosexuals, but I just felt like I didn't have enough outward gay happening. I'm by no means the straight-jock-gay variety...but when placed in a room of slightly campy gay boys I was afraid I came across as just that.
During the next hour I had a few good conversations and got to know some of the guys a little. We talked about Pride week and what we took in school and the usual get-to-know-you conversations. I also chatted with the few girls who were in attendance, and found everyone to be generally good company.
James, being the lightweight that he is, was quite happy when he finished his second drink...while I was feeling positively nothing. Not in the best interest of the evening ahead, I though, though it would certainly help in keeping me from drinking entirely too much.
Someone sounded the alert and we all prepared to leave. As I was standing in the kitchen dropping off my empty bottle, I had a short conversation with a guy who had just arrived. He complimented me on my glasses and told me I had good taste, to which I complimented him on his really well done highlights. It was really funny to actually get to say such a thing out loud, and we talked about how he usually likes to have them done. It also gave me a little perk up; I wasn't falling flat on my ass, and it seemed that at least one of the boys didn't stop and ask who brought the ugly straight guy to the party.
We all piled into the elevator, James' arms wrapped drunkenly around my body. Someone not-so-subtly asked, "Oh, are they together?" as he moved in and wrapped us both in a hug.
The walk to the club was quick and loud, with everyone practically bouncing with energy. Thanks to some advance tickets, we bypassed the lineup and stepped inside. And there I was, past the threshold. Inside I gazed into a room dimly lit and full of boys. I may have swooned.
Our group had gotten a little split up as we tried to get inside, so James and I headed for the bar and bought an armful of drinks. It was at that moment I realized the interesting situation I was placed in. We were standing in line, with him in front of me and my arms wrapped around him. It was very calming to have someone to hold on to, someone who I was there with, that allowed me to hold him and that made me feel like I wasn't out of place and completely lost. It was also strange, because here I was surrounded with gay boys and had no chance whatsoever to slip into any of their arms.
In retrospect, it was probably for the best that I had someone that devoted their attention to me the entire night. Had I went in just as friends, I would have had to quickly tackle the whole flirt/nod/dance/kiss/etc with complete strangers, something I have no experience with and no idea how to do. But at different points of the night, I would still find myself thinking what it would be like to just go out and play with whomever.
The music throbbed as we danced on the spot, waiting to be served. Suddenly someone caught James' attention, and next thing I was shaking hands with a guy a few feet away, between patrons waiting for drinks. I retracted my hand, only to be introduced to another person, who rolled his eyes back, cocked his head and said something to the effect of, "Well I guess I'm not important to shake hands with." I offered it again, but he declined to shake. I then rolled my own eyes and realized I'd made my first bad impression/unfriendly connection with a bitchy queen.
With energy-drink-vodka-things in hand, we stepped back into the thick of the crowd...or what we thought was the thick of the crowd. One of the group came and took us by the shoulder saying, "This isn't the main room tonight...come with me."
We walked through a corridor, and into a room triple the size of the one we'd just been in, full of lights and fog and hundreds of dancing boys. It was as if the pearly gates had opened and we were presented with nirvana.
Immediately we all plunged into the crowd and music and started to dance. For the next five hours, we danced non stop. I danced mostly with James, but occasionally with one of the other guys or the girls in the group.
For the first time in my life, I danced with a freedom I'd never known. I moved and thrusted and waved like I've never done before, and I loved it. We laughed and grinded , as I watched the crowds around us do the exact same thing. Some were shirtless, others simply made out with each other. They were all mostly around our age, dancing, drinking and groping their way around the room. It was amazing. James and I danced, like everyone else, with enough sexual suggestion to frighten my grandmother to death (and probably my mother too), but it was fun to be able to. It all felt right, a verification of things that have been missing from my life so far.
I don't know when, but one of the girls accidentally knocked my glasses clear off my face. Thankfully I grabbed them as they slid down my chest, and I tucked them into my jeans pocket. Not having them on really didn't effect my vision in the dark and crowded room, and I felt less self-conscious with them off my face. I may not have taken off my shirt, but losing the glasses was liberating all the same.
There were some memorable fun moments, outside of the generally great time. At one point I noticed James making out with one of his friends, who then inched over to me and made out with me, who then pushed us all together and caused a three-way tounging. It was fucking hot.
There were also some moments that reminded me of the positive/negative of being there 'with' someone. While James was a few feet away, dancing with one of the girls, I kept noticing the guy to my left looking vaguely in my direction. He was cute, though not as cute as most of the other guys there. A large part of me wanted to shimmy my way over and start dancing, but I felt obligated to behave myself. We hadn't set out any rules about other guys, and I know it would have just been dancing/a kiss or two, all very innocent...but I still felt gentlemanly enough not to do it directly in front of my date for the night.
My most embarrassing moment came around three quarters of the way through the evening, when we were heading to grab a couple more drinks. James was leading me through the crowd by the hand, when I felt something underfoot. People had been dropping their empties everywhere, and I had just stood directly on one. It started to roll under my foot, and I went down like a ton of bricks onto the floor below. The people around us all looked over, and one yelled out, "Wow, someone better take him home, he's had way too much to drink!"
Being past midnight, and having had a couple drinks by now (though not enough to have caused the fall, thank you), and being mortally embarrassed by the fact I'd just fallen flat on my ass, I rose slowly, and using the gayest voice I could muster, and a fey limp wrist, I shot back, "Ohmigod, I think I've drank too much. Someone take me home?" I didn't wait around long enough to see if anyone laughed.
While I didn't feel drunk by the end of the night, I did feel exhilarated. It was such a great time, the energy of the crowd and the fun of the evening made me feel amazing. Even the next morning, I felt like things were blurry and fuzzy; the lights and the darkness and the dancing all made for a hypnotic effect.
Finally, the music wound down, and the crowd shuffled out. On the street we said our good nights, with a hug from each of the guys, and James and I headed back to my apartment. He wanted to walk back through the Village, so we did en route, to find it as packed as before. People spilled from clubs and bars, and the energy felt the same as before. And also like before, James grabbed for my hand as we made our way through the crowd. While I wasn't super-impressed, I didn't really mind at that point.
A girl staggered by us, smiling serenely. "You're beautiful," she said to me, "and you're beautiful," she said to James. "Happy Pride!"
We finally made it through my apartment door. As I switched on the light, James laughed. "Wow, your back is soaked!" he said, bemused.
I flipped on a light and looked in the mirror. "Eeeew," I said, seeing the dark patch at the base of my back. "That's gross. But doesn't everybody get like that?" I asked.
"Well, not everybody..." he replied.
Great, now I'm the only 21-year-old to sweat out half his body weight when he dances in a boiling hot club for the night. Come on, everyone must wind up this disgusting...right?...
"There's no way I'm sleeping like this," I said, "I'm gross. I've gotta shower."
"Me too," James said.
I went to my room, stripped, and stepped towards the bathroom door. My left hand clicked on the light, and I looked back over my shoulder to see James standing behind me.
"Well?" I said with a grin. "Coming?"
Monday, June 30, 2008
The Big Gay Weekend (Part 1)
Well, I didn't sink...
...but I am just a little tired. Not that I'd admit that to anyone, nor would I admit that my hips were fucking killing me Sunday morning. But let me tell you how I got there...
Saturday I had to work (I got a job a while ago, btw...nothing too special or exciting hence not mentioning it really), and as soon as I was off I jumped in the car, picked up James and we were heading for Toronto. For most of the day I was excited...at that point I was excited and getting a little terrified. I mean, here it comes, in a few hours I'll be kicking off what might be a new chapter in my gay life.
We got to my place, I showered, which naturally led to some naked exploits...by the time we were actually ready to grab dinner it was getting on in time. My heart flipped in the elevator, thinking of what lay just a few minutes away, but by then it was more excitement that fear.
From the moment I stepped onto the street, I could tell things were different. There was an energy, an aura surrounding the area; everyone seemed happy, relaxed and to be having a really good time. As we navigated Wellesley, the crowd thickened and my senses spun. I realized I was surrounded by hundreds of gay guys. It was surreal.
I felt myself flush a little at the whole scene. Everyone was there; tall, short, twink, bear, young and old. It just made you feel great, being surrounded by people of every background who were all getting along and having a great time. Even now I find it difficult to explain just what made it so amazing, but I guess it just felt comfortable. It felt right. It felt like there was no judgement; you were who you were and everyone was invited.
Really, I can't go on about how great it felt to just stand there in the thick of things and smile. We all know we're not the only gay guy in the world, but that night highlighted how many people are there who identify with us, support us and love us.
It was around this moment that I walked directly past an acquaintance of my mom's. I hesitated for a moment, thinking I should wave and say hi, but in a moment of confusion (plus the fact that James was walking ahead of me) made me simply walk past. I don't even think she saw me, in retrospect.
We stood in the middle of the gay village, Church and Wellesley, and reveled in the crowd. True, there were some incredibly drunk lesbians on the balcony above Pizza Pizza, shirtless and dripping some beer on the people below...but that was just a microcosm of the crowd. It really did go from mild to wild. And nobody cared.
One of James' friends and his boyfriend ran into us, and we said our hellos. I felt a touch awkward as the couple stood there, with James' friend petting, leaning on and wrapping himself around his boyfriend, and James and I standing there closely but casually. For a moment I wondered if James expected the same thing, if this is how he wanted us to be. Considering we're not that close yet (or at least I'm not that close yet), I didn't really enjoy the thought of being wrapped up in each other the entire time.
We waved goodbye and continued walking to find a place to get dinner. On the way, we had a brief chat about the whole public mauling thing, and both agreed it's really not our style. James then proceeded to grab my hand and hold it for the rest of the night, "Because we can," as he put it. I went along with it, but my heart wasn't in it...I'll hold hands with my fiancee, not the guy I've been seeing for a few weeks. At least not yet.
I tried to spy any more familiar faces, but didn't catch any. We chose a spot for dinner, sat, and waited for half an hour to be served thanks to the huge crowds. It didn't really matter though, we were both talking and laughing...until drama reared it's head. James' parents decided to give him a call and see what he was up to...which didn't go too well. He's not out to his parents, and had said he was downtown visiting friends from school. Fair enough, but they wanted to know "Why tonight of all nights?"
It got so bad that his parents actually asked him if he was gay, right there, in a phone conversation. He didn't answer, just said that he would see them tomorrow and that he was safe. He was on the verge of tears when he hung up the phone, and the fun took a swift decline. It was a tale of two extremes; there we were enjoying Pride festivities, where everyone reaffirms your equality as a human being, while his semi-homophobe parents were grilling their son about his sexuality and interesting choice of timing a visit to Toronto.
Just before we were about to leave, out of the corner of my eye I saw what looked like an ex of mine walk by. Actually, I noticed his roommate first, because he's really cute, and then the ex behind him. They walked straight past, presumably not noticing me (and since I'd just gotten a message from him a few hours before, I assume he's not not speaking to me).
The walk back to my place was pretty mute. As soon as we were back past the barricades closing off the street, James grabbed my hand again. I gave him a squeeze because I knew he was really upset and literally needed a hand to hold. When we got back to my place, I gave him a big hug, long enough to feel good but short enough to make sure he didn't start to cry. We rifled through my clothes, because I really had no idea what to wear, chose something and started the walk back to his friend's place for the pre-drink.
By now James' spirits were raised, and I felt better too, so we both enjoyed plunging into the throbbing crowds as we headed for his friend's apartment. I had a little heart sputter as we arrived at the door, hoping I'd make a good impression and get on with his friends.
He knocked, and the door swung open. "Hiiiii!" shouted the host, a smile plastered across his face. "Happy Pride!"
The door opened further, and he finally caught sight of me.
"Oh, I didn't know this was the Steve you were talking about..."
...but I am just a little tired. Not that I'd admit that to anyone, nor would I admit that my hips were fucking killing me Sunday morning. But let me tell you how I got there...
Saturday I had to work (I got a job a while ago, btw...nothing too special or exciting hence not mentioning it really), and as soon as I was off I jumped in the car, picked up James and we were heading for Toronto. For most of the day I was excited...at that point I was excited and getting a little terrified. I mean, here it comes, in a few hours I'll be kicking off what might be a new chapter in my gay life.
We got to my place, I showered, which naturally led to some naked exploits...by the time we were actually ready to grab dinner it was getting on in time. My heart flipped in the elevator, thinking of what lay just a few minutes away, but by then it was more excitement that fear.
From the moment I stepped onto the street, I could tell things were different. There was an energy, an aura surrounding the area; everyone seemed happy, relaxed and to be having a really good time. As we navigated Wellesley, the crowd thickened and my senses spun. I realized I was surrounded by hundreds of gay guys. It was surreal.
I felt myself flush a little at the whole scene. Everyone was there; tall, short, twink, bear, young and old. It just made you feel great, being surrounded by people of every background who were all getting along and having a great time. Even now I find it difficult to explain just what made it so amazing, but I guess it just felt comfortable. It felt right. It felt like there was no judgement; you were who you were and everyone was invited.
Really, I can't go on about how great it felt to just stand there in the thick of things and smile. We all know we're not the only gay guy in the world, but that night highlighted how many people are there who identify with us, support us and love us.
It was around this moment that I walked directly past an acquaintance of my mom's. I hesitated for a moment, thinking I should wave and say hi, but in a moment of confusion (plus the fact that James was walking ahead of me) made me simply walk past. I don't even think she saw me, in retrospect.
We stood in the middle of the gay village, Church and Wellesley, and reveled in the crowd. True, there were some incredibly drunk lesbians on the balcony above Pizza Pizza, shirtless and dripping some beer on the people below...but that was just a microcosm of the crowd. It really did go from mild to wild. And nobody cared.
One of James' friends and his boyfriend ran into us, and we said our hellos. I felt a touch awkward as the couple stood there, with James' friend petting, leaning on and wrapping himself around his boyfriend, and James and I standing there closely but casually. For a moment I wondered if James expected the same thing, if this is how he wanted us to be. Considering we're not that close yet (or at least I'm not that close yet), I didn't really enjoy the thought of being wrapped up in each other the entire time.
We waved goodbye and continued walking to find a place to get dinner. On the way, we had a brief chat about the whole public mauling thing, and both agreed it's really not our style. James then proceeded to grab my hand and hold it for the rest of the night, "Because we can," as he put it. I went along with it, but my heart wasn't in it...I'll hold hands with my fiancee, not the guy I've been seeing for a few weeks. At least not yet.
I tried to spy any more familiar faces, but didn't catch any. We chose a spot for dinner, sat, and waited for half an hour to be served thanks to the huge crowds. It didn't really matter though, we were both talking and laughing...until drama reared it's head. James' parents decided to give him a call and see what he was up to...which didn't go too well. He's not out to his parents, and had said he was downtown visiting friends from school. Fair enough, but they wanted to know "Why tonight of all nights?"
It got so bad that his parents actually asked him if he was gay, right there, in a phone conversation. He didn't answer, just said that he would see them tomorrow and that he was safe. He was on the verge of tears when he hung up the phone, and the fun took a swift decline. It was a tale of two extremes; there we were enjoying Pride festivities, where everyone reaffirms your equality as a human being, while his semi-homophobe parents were grilling their son about his sexuality and interesting choice of timing a visit to Toronto.
Just before we were about to leave, out of the corner of my eye I saw what looked like an ex of mine walk by. Actually, I noticed his roommate first, because he's really cute, and then the ex behind him. They walked straight past, presumably not noticing me (and since I'd just gotten a message from him a few hours before, I assume he's not not speaking to me).
The walk back to my place was pretty mute. As soon as we were back past the barricades closing off the street, James grabbed my hand again. I gave him a squeeze because I knew he was really upset and literally needed a hand to hold. When we got back to my place, I gave him a big hug, long enough to feel good but short enough to make sure he didn't start to cry. We rifled through my clothes, because I really had no idea what to wear, chose something and started the walk back to his friend's place for the pre-drink.
By now James' spirits were raised, and I felt better too, so we both enjoyed plunging into the throbbing crowds as we headed for his friend's apartment. I had a little heart sputter as we arrived at the door, hoping I'd make a good impression and get on with his friends.
He knocked, and the door swung open. "Hiiiii!" shouted the host, a smile plastered across his face. "Happy Pride!"
The door opened further, and he finally caught sight of me.
"Oh, I didn't know this was the Steve you were talking about..."
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Yup, he's a 'mo...
So the boy last night was definitely gay.
And so was his boyfriend.
At least, I think it was his boyfriend. I mean, he was gay, too, and they showed up together, and the level of comfort between them was really evident.
Of course, it could simply be that way because they've known each other since elementary school, but I sort of felt they were together.
It started to dawn on me that I really have no idea when boys are trying to flirt with me, if they are at all. During the conversation of the evening, the presumed boyfriend made a lot of smiley eye contact with me. But, as it was happening (and even now), I could never be 'sure' what that smile meant, or that look in the eye.
Naturally, I don't really have much practice at flirting with guys at parties, so I kept it at the most basic; small talk conversation getting to know them, more specific questions about their life/work/studies, a couple jokes...
Alas, even though we chatted it up, I still wasn't convinced he was specifically flirting with me. Maybe he was, subtly enough to not annoy his boyfriend. Maybe he wasn't, and is just a generally friendly guy.
This is what I hate about practically everything to do with interaction with people; when you're not 100% sure they are the heart-on-sleeve type of person, you can never know if they're acting, or posing, or just doing something that changes your perception of them. It's frustrating in these scenarios because, well, it's just nice to know if someone's flirting with you!
Strange, since the other guy I talked the most to was definitely straight. It was nice to actually meet new people and have sane conversations, something that I find happens all to little in my life.
And what about the guy who I was supposed to be the non-flamboyant twin of? We didn't really have much conversation between us, and I walked away sort of wondering where she sees the resemblance...but hey, she knows us both well enough that I shouldn't doubt it.
There were the usual promises of 'doing this again soon', and I'll admit I do hope it happens. I came home last night, crashed on the couch and fell asleep, only to be woken up by my roommate falling through the door at 3-ish. Magically, I woke up again at 7:30 a.m., and didn't really get the sleep I wanted.
Today I fidgeted around some more, doing pretty much nothing and feeling guilty about it. Sleep tonight sounds like the best idea I've had in years.
At least the party was fun.
And so was his boyfriend.
At least, I think it was his boyfriend. I mean, he was gay, too, and they showed up together, and the level of comfort between them was really evident.
Of course, it could simply be that way because they've known each other since elementary school, but I sort of felt they were together.
It started to dawn on me that I really have no idea when boys are trying to flirt with me, if they are at all. During the conversation of the evening, the presumed boyfriend made a lot of smiley eye contact with me. But, as it was happening (and even now), I could never be 'sure' what that smile meant, or that look in the eye.
Naturally, I don't really have much practice at flirting with guys at parties, so I kept it at the most basic; small talk conversation getting to know them, more specific questions about their life/work/studies, a couple jokes...
Alas, even though we chatted it up, I still wasn't convinced he was specifically flirting with me. Maybe he was, subtly enough to not annoy his boyfriend. Maybe he wasn't, and is just a generally friendly guy.
This is what I hate about practically everything to do with interaction with people; when you're not 100% sure they are the heart-on-sleeve type of person, you can never know if they're acting, or posing, or just doing something that changes your perception of them. It's frustrating in these scenarios because, well, it's just nice to know if someone's flirting with you!
Strange, since the other guy I talked the most to was definitely straight. It was nice to actually meet new people and have sane conversations, something that I find happens all to little in my life.
And what about the guy who I was supposed to be the non-flamboyant twin of? We didn't really have much conversation between us, and I walked away sort of wondering where she sees the resemblance...but hey, she knows us both well enough that I shouldn't doubt it.
There were the usual promises of 'doing this again soon', and I'll admit I do hope it happens. I came home last night, crashed on the couch and fell asleep, only to be woken up by my roommate falling through the door at 3-ish. Magically, I woke up again at 7:30 a.m., and didn't really get the sleep I wanted.
Today I fidgeted around some more, doing pretty much nothing and feeling guilty about it. Sleep tonight sounds like the best idea I've had in years.
At least the party was fun.
Friday, February 8, 2008
"Maybe you could..."
I was asked the strangest thing the other day - for help.
Not just any help, mind you. That's not strange, and I'll gladly give it. I was asked for gay help. From me.
It all went down at a casual get together last week. I was there with a few people I knew, and a lot of people they knew. We were having a good time chatting, and I was surprised to find myself in a few different conversations. Pleasantly, mind you, because I do love talking to approachable, open, likable people.
I of course instantly knew the gay boy in the room, who sat chatting with a few girls. He was pretty quiet through the night, and didn't really speak to me. His whole appearance was cute, in this innocent, boyish way. He was even 20, which surprised me since he looked a lot younger.
Me being me, that is to say, inept at engaging in anything longer than a "Hey" with a gay guy, sat on the sidelines of his conversation, not really paying much attention until a mutual friend swung herself over his crotch, wrapped her arms around his head and started talking to him. I laughed a little...why do women love to straddle gay guys?...that is to say, until she finished her conversation with him and promptly plopped down on my lap.
"Well hi there," I said, laughing. She giggled, and we started chatting about nothing, her hands cupped behind my neck. This didn't bother me, because I know her well enough and really do quite like her. The only problem in the situation was that she was the wrong sex...had she been a guy I may have been giving the situation a much different approach.
Time wore on and she slid off, sitting next to me and talking to other people. I went back to a conversation on my left, until I noticed that she had now lay the gay guy on to her chest, and was pulling on my arm, dragging me into the fray. All three of us were quite drunk at this point, and we were laughing and making mindless conversation. She introduced me to the guy, sitting three inches from my face and developing an interesting look in his eyes.
We talked for a few minutes like that, then all rolled off and went back to our other chats. But again, moments later, she was sitting on my knee.
"You know that guy," she said to me. "Well, he's sorta new. Really new, actually, doesn't go out much or stuff like that. Maybe you could, uh, talk with him?"
My eyebrows raised involuntarily. Wait...she wanted me to take this guy out on the town, show him the gay sights and introduce him to the community? I would have laughed out loud, if I wasn't so shocked. I mean, I don't purport to know anything about anything gay, yet here I was being asked for advice.
"Well..." I said awkwardly, glancing over at him. "I would, for sure. But see, the thing is...I'm pretty new myself. Don't know much of anything. Don't know I could be much help, but I'd hang out with him again for sure."
Pretty new as in just fell off the fucking boat...but hey, apparently I don't broadcast that message...
She nodded and again went off. I laughed a little to myself, seeing the humour in the situation.
Things were dying down, and at the end of the night I said my goodbyes to the two of them. I gave her a hug, and him a straight look in the eye, trying to muster the whole 'unspoken understanding' thing via a piercing gaze.
"I hope I'll see you again soon," I said simply to him. He continued his eye contact and nodded slightly.
"Yeah, me too," he said, deceptively simply but with that whole, 'Bet your ass I will' feeling behind it.
I laughed for the rest of the night at the thought of me being a gay guide. But who knows, maybe if we strike up a bit of a friendship, anything could wind up happening.
But for the moment, I'll puzzle over how I became 'Steve - the gay in the know'.
Not just any help, mind you. That's not strange, and I'll gladly give it. I was asked for gay help. From me.
It all went down at a casual get together last week. I was there with a few people I knew, and a lot of people they knew. We were having a good time chatting, and I was surprised to find myself in a few different conversations. Pleasantly, mind you, because I do love talking to approachable, open, likable people.
I of course instantly knew the gay boy in the room, who sat chatting with a few girls. He was pretty quiet through the night, and didn't really speak to me. His whole appearance was cute, in this innocent, boyish way. He was even 20, which surprised me since he looked a lot younger.
Me being me, that is to say, inept at engaging in anything longer than a "Hey" with a gay guy, sat on the sidelines of his conversation, not really paying much attention until a mutual friend swung herself over his crotch, wrapped her arms around his head and started talking to him. I laughed a little...why do women love to straddle gay guys?...that is to say, until she finished her conversation with him and promptly plopped down on my lap.
"Well hi there," I said, laughing. She giggled, and we started chatting about nothing, her hands cupped behind my neck. This didn't bother me, because I know her well enough and really do quite like her. The only problem in the situation was that she was the wrong sex...had she been a guy I may have been giving the situation a much different approach.
Time wore on and she slid off, sitting next to me and talking to other people. I went back to a conversation on my left, until I noticed that she had now lay the gay guy on to her chest, and was pulling on my arm, dragging me into the fray. All three of us were quite drunk at this point, and we were laughing and making mindless conversation. She introduced me to the guy, sitting three inches from my face and developing an interesting look in his eyes.
We talked for a few minutes like that, then all rolled off and went back to our other chats. But again, moments later, she was sitting on my knee.
"You know that guy," she said to me. "Well, he's sorta new. Really new, actually, doesn't go out much or stuff like that. Maybe you could, uh, talk with him?"
My eyebrows raised involuntarily. Wait...she wanted me to take this guy out on the town, show him the gay sights and introduce him to the community? I would have laughed out loud, if I wasn't so shocked. I mean, I don't purport to know anything about anything gay, yet here I was being asked for advice.
"Well..." I said awkwardly, glancing over at him. "I would, for sure. But see, the thing is...I'm pretty new myself. Don't know much of anything. Don't know I could be much help, but I'd hang out with him again for sure."
Pretty new as in just fell off the fucking boat...but hey, apparently I don't broadcast that message...
She nodded and again went off. I laughed a little to myself, seeing the humour in the situation.
Things were dying down, and at the end of the night I said my goodbyes to the two of them. I gave her a hug, and him a straight look in the eye, trying to muster the whole 'unspoken understanding' thing via a piercing gaze.
"I hope I'll see you again soon," I said simply to him. He continued his eye contact and nodded slightly.
"Yeah, me too," he said, deceptively simply but with that whole, 'Bet your ass I will' feeling behind it.
I laughed for the rest of the night at the thought of me being a gay guide. But who knows, maybe if we strike up a bit of a friendship, anything could wind up happening.
But for the moment, I'll puzzle over how I became 'Steve - the gay in the know'.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
On Saturday...
10:23 a.m. - Oooh, new e-mail! "Yeah, tonight sounds like a good idea. Dinner at 7 and then head to the party? Call me and let me know and I'll pass the word. You might have to drop me a text though if I don't pick up."
This all sounds good! Enough time to do all sorts of things needed at home, get ready, and go out for nice evening.
11:30 a.m. - Called Nikki. "Uhh...hi. Well, I got your email, sounds good. Call me when you get this so we can set a time/place."
Odd feeling things are not going to work as smoothly as planned, but did leave voicemail so should be fine.
3:48 p.m. - Still no word. Send text message repeating voicemail message. Knee deep in dishes, vacuuming, scrubbing et cettera, and will keep mind occupied.
5:29 p.m. - Call again. "Uhh...hi again! Sorry, not being a pest, just wondering what was up for dinner? Call me, my number is..."
Honestly, where are people? Did world fall asleep, leave phones on silent or sneak away for dirty week-end shag and forget to tell me?
5:45 p.m. - Have not heard back. Still. And do not have numbers of other people attending said dinner, so cannot simply call and confirm plans with them. Why does my life always have to be this way!?
6:02 p.m. - Do not want to go to scary party all alone, knowing only the birthday girl and one other guy who is so falsely friendly know he merely is acting so as not to illicit hateful vibes from others. Phone has not rung, no messages. Maybe phone is broken? Call self to see that phone indeed does ring.
6:10 p.m. - Jump in shower, but decide in shower that if not called by 8 p.m. will open bottle of wine, crack first page of "Notes on a Scandal" and read all night. After all, have had social outings already and do not need to be out on a Saturday night just because it is socially expected.
6:25 p.m. - Roommate comes home from day at work. Explain situation to her while she looks on with a bemused smirk on her face. Wonder if she thinks self is so horribly anti-social that made up dinner/birthday party to appear indeed to have something to do on Saturday night. Instead get pity invite to horrible club, "But I know that I'm not as interesting as your friends are," she says.
6:35 p.m. - Sitting in bathrobe, hair wet, staring at cell phone. Attempting to send psychic vibes towards Nikki and trigger some 6th sense, which no doubt will remind her to call me instantly.
6:38 p.m. - Text again..."Are we still on for tonight? Sorry to be a pest."
6:42 p.m. - Phone rings. "Heyyyy!!! Whats up?" Nikki, who has been in a movie and unable to answer her phone, decided to call me at the last possible second. "We sooo should have called you!" she adds brilliantly, but cannot stay mad because plans are now on. Arrange to meet at Starbucks. Still sitting naked in room with damp hair.
6:47 p.m. - Gah, which scarf goes with this? Does brown actually go with purple? Or can this set new trend, being so clashed that one is actually fashionable?
6:48 p.m. - Friends have walked to wrong Starbucks and thought they should let me know. Indeed they should have. Roommate comes in and watches me finish getting dressed for some reason, dressed in dirty shirt and pajama bottoms. Have mild but mean thrill from being the one who's 'going out' while she is finally stationary.
7:04 p.m. - Make it to Starbucks, where conversations stalls us from actually going to dinner until almost 8:00 p.m. Make stop for wine along the way to take to party.
9:03 p.m. - Get awkward gut feeling when discussion turns to relationships, sex, etc. since unsure if people actually know. Vaguely answer questions on topic, make odd "uhh" sound and then decide to pull out the, "Well, I don't know if you know, but I'm gay," line. Now officially out to these people, who all went, "Aww, we love you just the way you are! Well, almost more!"
10:25 p.m. - Ring buzzer at party unsure of what unit number supposed to go to. After brief second, someone answers, screams, "Heyyyy," buzzes us through and hangs up. Stare in shocked amusement at each other, and ring again, only to get the same result. Have rough idea of where party is, and decide we can probably hear it from down the hall anyway.
10:27 p.m. - Open door to see birthday girl, completely plastered, scream, "Oh my Godddd! You guys! What are you doing here!?"
Hesitate for brief moment, since self was invited to party as well as other people in my company, but take it more as a 'Wow, you came!' moment.
Birthday girl screamed for about five minutes about how surprised she was, and instantly our friend statuses were boosted because we were the surprise of the evening for her. Actually felt v. nice to be so welcomed and bask in such pure emotion.
10:38 p.m. - After talking with a few people, mainly self's friends, notice someone hovering over shoulder. Turn around to be greeted with a, "Hello Steve," from a boy I recognized instantly but could not call up a name. Best guess was Mark, so decided not so reply with a name. Useless anyway, because would much rather just talk and catch up, since I never actually see said guy outside of these parties. Oooh...he's cuter than I remembered...
11:27 p.m. - Realize I am surrounded completely by straight women and gay men. Boys aren't flamingly gay, yet maintain the usual attributes of successful, fun, outgoing gays, which included multiple pictures and ass grabbing.
11:32 p.m. - Have somehow sliced thumb open, and can only feel it now, like some sort of tingling at end of extremity. Look at it closely, then go for more wine.
12:03 a.m - The boys are now in full out ass slapping mode, comparing their different assets. Fascinating to watch, as they have that sexual flicker in their eyes as they jokingly grope asses.
12:31 a.m. - New face arrives (why are these boys all cute?) and ends up in conversation with our circle. Interesting guy, but eyes clearly scanning the room.
12:43 a.m. - Word circulates that party will now shift to club/bar of choice. Group decides to bow out, but stays until everyone leaves.
1:02 a.m. - Last boy to arrive has wickedly sexual look on face while gabbing the ass of the boy in front of him, walking out the door. Resolve to work on fiery sexual looks for future instances.
1:08 a.m. - Group leaves plus one, Mark guy from beginning of party, who needs to walk in my direction. People start falling off as they make their way home, but Mark and I continue to walk together. Realize am much better at conversation that involves a few people to play off of. Try to not look as if flailing for proper topics of conversation.
1:10 a.m. - Mark is fascinated by how busy it is tonight. From experience would agree, as self often walks home while everyone else is lining up for bars/clubs/sex.
1:12 a.m. - Arrive at line Mark needs to be in. Smiled and said it was nice to see him, hopefully our paths would cross again soon. He looks at me and gives me a hug before I stalk off mysteriously into the night...
This all sounds good! Enough time to do all sorts of things needed at home, get ready, and go out for nice evening.
11:30 a.m. - Called Nikki. "Uhh...hi. Well, I got your email, sounds good. Call me when you get this so we can set a time/place."
Odd feeling things are not going to work as smoothly as planned, but did leave voicemail so should be fine.
3:48 p.m. - Still no word. Send text message repeating voicemail message. Knee deep in dishes, vacuuming, scrubbing et cettera, and will keep mind occupied.
5:29 p.m. - Call again. "Uhh...hi again! Sorry, not being a pest, just wondering what was up for dinner? Call me, my number is..."
Honestly, where are people? Did world fall asleep, leave phones on silent or sneak away for dirty week-end shag and forget to tell me?
5:45 p.m. - Have not heard back. Still. And do not have numbers of other people attending said dinner, so cannot simply call and confirm plans with them. Why does my life always have to be this way!?
6:02 p.m. - Do not want to go to scary party all alone, knowing only the birthday girl and one other guy who is so falsely friendly know he merely is acting so as not to illicit hateful vibes from others. Phone has not rung, no messages. Maybe phone is broken? Call self to see that phone indeed does ring.
6:10 p.m. - Jump in shower, but decide in shower that if not called by 8 p.m. will open bottle of wine, crack first page of "Notes on a Scandal" and read all night. After all, have had social outings already and do not need to be out on a Saturday night just because it is socially expected.
6:25 p.m. - Roommate comes home from day at work. Explain situation to her while she looks on with a bemused smirk on her face. Wonder if she thinks self is so horribly anti-social that made up dinner/birthday party to appear indeed to have something to do on Saturday night. Instead get pity invite to horrible club, "But I know that I'm not as interesting as your friends are," she says.
6:35 p.m. - Sitting in bathrobe, hair wet, staring at cell phone. Attempting to send psychic vibes towards Nikki and trigger some 6th sense, which no doubt will remind her to call me instantly.
6:38 p.m. - Text again..."Are we still on for tonight? Sorry to be a pest."
6:42 p.m. - Phone rings. "Heyyyy!!! Whats up?" Nikki, who has been in a movie and unable to answer her phone, decided to call me at the last possible second. "We sooo should have called you!" she adds brilliantly, but cannot stay mad because plans are now on. Arrange to meet at Starbucks. Still sitting naked in room with damp hair.
6:47 p.m. - Gah, which scarf goes with this? Does brown actually go with purple? Or can this set new trend, being so clashed that one is actually fashionable?
6:48 p.m. - Friends have walked to wrong Starbucks and thought they should let me know. Indeed they should have. Roommate comes in and watches me finish getting dressed for some reason, dressed in dirty shirt and pajama bottoms. Have mild but mean thrill from being the one who's 'going out' while she is finally stationary.
7:04 p.m. - Make it to Starbucks, where conversations stalls us from actually going to dinner until almost 8:00 p.m. Make stop for wine along the way to take to party.
9:03 p.m. - Get awkward gut feeling when discussion turns to relationships, sex, etc. since unsure if people actually know. Vaguely answer questions on topic, make odd "uhh" sound and then decide to pull out the, "Well, I don't know if you know, but I'm gay," line. Now officially out to these people, who all went, "Aww, we love you just the way you are! Well, almost more!"
10:25 p.m. - Ring buzzer at party unsure of what unit number supposed to go to. After brief second, someone answers, screams, "Heyyyy," buzzes us through and hangs up. Stare in shocked amusement at each other, and ring again, only to get the same result. Have rough idea of where party is, and decide we can probably hear it from down the hall anyway.
10:27 p.m. - Open door to see birthday girl, completely plastered, scream, "Oh my Godddd! You guys! What are you doing here!?"
Hesitate for brief moment, since self was invited to party as well as other people in my company, but take it more as a 'Wow, you came!' moment.
Birthday girl screamed for about five minutes about how surprised she was, and instantly our friend statuses were boosted because we were the surprise of the evening for her. Actually felt v. nice to be so welcomed and bask in such pure emotion.
10:38 p.m. - After talking with a few people, mainly self's friends, notice someone hovering over shoulder. Turn around to be greeted with a, "Hello Steve," from a boy I recognized instantly but could not call up a name. Best guess was Mark, so decided not so reply with a name. Useless anyway, because would much rather just talk and catch up, since I never actually see said guy outside of these parties. Oooh...he's cuter than I remembered...
11:27 p.m. - Realize I am surrounded completely by straight women and gay men. Boys aren't flamingly gay, yet maintain the usual attributes of successful, fun, outgoing gays, which included multiple pictures and ass grabbing.
11:32 p.m. - Have somehow sliced thumb open, and can only feel it now, like some sort of tingling at end of extremity. Look at it closely, then go for more wine.
12:03 a.m - The boys are now in full out ass slapping mode, comparing their different assets. Fascinating to watch, as they have that sexual flicker in their eyes as they jokingly grope asses.
12:31 a.m. - New face arrives (why are these boys all cute?) and ends up in conversation with our circle. Interesting guy, but eyes clearly scanning the room.
12:43 a.m. - Word circulates that party will now shift to club/bar of choice. Group decides to bow out, but stays until everyone leaves.
1:02 a.m. - Last boy to arrive has wickedly sexual look on face while gabbing the ass of the boy in front of him, walking out the door. Resolve to work on fiery sexual looks for future instances.
1:08 a.m. - Group leaves plus one, Mark guy from beginning of party, who needs to walk in my direction. People start falling off as they make their way home, but Mark and I continue to walk together. Realize am much better at conversation that involves a few people to play off of. Try to not look as if flailing for proper topics of conversation.
1:10 a.m. - Mark is fascinated by how busy it is tonight. From experience would agree, as self often walks home while everyone else is lining up for bars/clubs/sex.
1:12 a.m. - Arrive at line Mark needs to be in. Smiled and said it was nice to see him, hopefully our paths would cross again soon. He looks at me and gives me a hug before I stalk off mysteriously into the night...
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