Back at the Bottom

Six brown glass bottles of Bud Light, a flute of Mexican Champagne, a buttery nipple, something with Malibu and Bacardi 151. My night blurs again and details become faint, waltzing gracefully back into my memories as I hold my thoughts lightly in my head about yesterday. I filled my tank with petrol in the morning. I left my house with an unmarked black bag full of clothes, shoes, a book, cigarettes, and a digital camera. It was the first day back to work after a spell of workless days, sunbathing, and friend-dates. I have taken a job at American Eagle Outfitters in the mall. I showed up to orientation an hour early. I spoke with my new manager who is a good friend. The new trainee I would go through orientation with came in on time. His name is Rob. He's 24, with boyish good looks, blue eyes, and is shorter than me. I thought he was probably 19. We have the same initials, but his are a jumbled version of my own. Ryan and Rob. That's us, the trainees. It's ironic seeing as my friend Ryan's boyfriend's name is also Rob, so these names have been a packaged deal in my head for years now. He's straight and has a girlfriend. During the orientation, I noticed that he always let me do everything first when we took turns. I let him borrow my pen. He held doors for me and I noticed. My friend/manager Kyle and I would joke around and queen out, acting flamboyant and carefree for our own amusement. Rob would just smile and laugh. He wasn't laughing AT us, but just WITH us. I enjoyed his company and shared playful dialogue when we were left on our own inside the store. We joked with the headsets, and tried on jeans together. I made him turn around so I could check out his small tight ass in the jeans. He bulged in the front of his jeans just enough to get my attention. I didn't say anything about my minor infatuation with Rob's small body, his fair skin, dirty blonde spiky hair, and his blue eyes. I brushed it off. He was just being my new friend and that's all. Orientation ended, I scored two pairs of jeans, three tees, and maybe four polo shirts for only $78. I used the employee discount and raided the clearance racks. I need clothes to work in, and I own practically NO clothes from the establishment. Orientation is over, but I'm invited immediately back when Kyle is off work so we can roll over to Port Warwick for their outdoor concert series. I leave just to fill out paperwork at Books-a-Million, and return to the mall to meet up with Kyle, Henry (both from the beach the day we met Corinne), and Kyle's friend Andy. We go to Henry's Korean girl friend Sue T's house. I'm sure it's really spelled Siu Thi or something more exotic, but I'm going to just leave it at Sue T, because that's how it sounds to me. I changed into my new fluorescent coral v-neck tee, and distressed straight-leg American Eagle jeans. We pack into two cars and headed to the lawn of Port Warwick, armed with two bottles of wine, two six-packs of Bud Light, and a small arsenal of cigarettes. The lawn was empty to our astonishment, save for a few geriatric couples here and there. I hated to pop the beer for fear of getting a drunk-in-public citation, but as the lawn filled up, I saw more and more people drinking freely, smoking, and unfolding tons of collapsible chairs. When I picked up the beer and cigarettes, my heart skipped a beat while waiting for my credit card to be authorized. I have blown through checking, and what little bit of savings I had set aside. I still have my IRA account, but I haven't had an income at all. I don't know how much more my little low-limit credit card will be able to take. I just have to get through the next two weeks to get a paycheck and start paying it all back. As soon as the first beer disappeared into the darkness known as my mouth, I forgot all about finances. The lawn filled quickly, and the band started. Henry and I were singing Proud Mary by Tina Turner while waiting for the show to start. Here we were, the only sister's in the whole place, queening it out, wailing our arms and trying not to spill our beer. Henry was unsuccessful at keeping his red wine in his plastic wine glass. It was quite unfortunate, but rather comical that a large portion of it ended up in his lap while we sat on the lawn drinking. We laughed and he handled himself just fine. We all nearly died when the first song played by the band was Proud Mary! We all stood up and swayed our hips. We were tipsy, and older people stared a little. Oh well. We have strength in numbers and I would have never acted out without Kyle and Henry there. Rob from orientation showed up with his girlfriend. We kept our sunglasses on, Rob and me. Men showed up with coolers, beer pong tables, and most importantly other GUY friends. There were very attractive men. Young ones. Men with arms the size of my thighs. I nearly died. Thankfully I had my sunglasses on and was able to stare freely without being caught. Rob seemed very comfortable with us. Kyle started talking to a nearby woman, attractive and in her early forties. She had a couple small children, and a charming husband who didn't mind her talking to Kyle. I brought Kyle his beer and joined in the conversation with this woman named Kim. Kyle returned to the group of friends but I stayed and talked to Kim, exchanged phone numbers, and a brief recap of what happened the last time Kyle, Henry, and I met a woman in public (the Corinne story). I reminded Kim of a close gay friend of hers that had since moved to Texas. We decided the two of us would go out soon. Her husband listened in, and was very kind. I went back to the guys after that. The concert ended; Andy got another six pack after we killed our reserves. We sung Michael Jackson and Wendy Ho as we walked back to the car. We did have DD's just to let you know. Rob climbed onto the roof of his girlfriend's Honda, and Kyle joined him. Michael Jackson was playing through the CD player, and the two guys danced on the roof, nearly denting the whole thing in a couple times. We went back to Sue T's house where our cars had been left. Inside, Sue, who had left earlier, had prepared a whole Korean feast for everyone. We ate homemade egg rolls, and noodles, and rice. It was so good. After dinner, we all smoked outside. Rob and his girlfriend went out to Bailey's and didn't join us at Sue's house. Sue had some business to take care of, with the help of Henry, Andy, and Kyle. I had to leave to meet Dallas out since at midnight she would be 21 at last. I met Dallas at the same bar she saved me from a crazy tit-showing woman just nights before. Shawn joined us shortly thereafter. Shawn bought champagne. Dallas bought buttery nipples. I drank water mainly. Dallas had to leave, I can't remember why. Rob had texted Henry to get him to join up with Rob and his girlfriend at Bailey's. I texted Rob, asking him why he hadn't invited ME out. It's so strange to me how these straight guys are always all about Henry. Henry is a confident firecracker of a gay man and I absolutely adore him as a friend. He brings such a charisma to any atmosphere, I can't help but smile and laugh. Rob invites me to Bailey's, so I quickly abandon the bar with Dallas and Shawn at the same time Dallas left. I drove up to meet Rob and his girlfriend Ashley. Rob had completely lost his composure. He was drunk, immediately ordering a round of shots upon my arrival. His vocabulary had changed, and even though in the presence of his girlfriend, his wrists went weak. I could hear a small lisp, and his eyes were sparkling. I think he was doing it on purpose to get in with me and make me feel like he was one of us. I don't understand it at all. Later I would learn that he was making moves on Henry only moments before I got there. When I got there, Henry and Kyle had already left. Rob was now pinching my nipples playfully, he even made a grope at my crotch. Hip hop music played and I danced in my seat. Rob got up and started dancing on me. I was very uncomfortable with everyone else around, in a straight bar. I got him away from me. I talked to his girlfriend Ashley who didn't seem to think anything wrong was going on at all. My curiosity was boiling over. We left around midnight and were going to meet back up at the Corner Pocket, my old stomping grounds. Halfway there Rob texted me to tell me to just go home and that we'd meet up the next day. I came home. I slept. I woke up feeling like I had been hit in the forehead by a freight train. Rob said he was puking this morning. I was going to pick him up and bring him back to lay by the pool at my house since he doesn't drive at the moment. His girlfriend was off work today. He ended up telling me a friend stopped by whom it hadn't seen in years. So I dropped it. I just really wanted to talk to him some more and dive into his confused little mind and untangle some of the knots that had surfaced the night before. Truth-be-told, it really doesn't matter. Yeah, I thought he was attractive, and his girlfriend had nothing but great things to say about him. I really just want Frank. Frank is the man I have been talking to for a couple weeks now. I spent the night with him the first night we met. We never even went to the bar we were supposed to hang out at that evening. We stayed home and talked all night. It was difficult for me since my guard was up and I've been steamrolled too many times. I have major trust issues with men. Something in Frank's eyes pleaded with me and tore down my defenses. So I went back. I saw him again. He took me surfing. He took me out on his boat and made me steer the wheel even though I was uncomfortable and didn't want to. It wasn't that bad. I trusted him. He believed in me. He believes in me. I trust him. He's older than me by quite a few years, which is very comforting to me. I enjoy his company. He's grounded. He knows who he is. We took off last weekend down to Manteo to surf, and hang out for the weekend. He held me every night. He cooked for me, and I did the dishes. We smoked cigarettes on the porch and drank bourbon. I woke up next to him and it felt really good. I tried really hard not to show it, but it was very difficult for me to say goodbye to him after we got back home. My heart broke a little bit because I had grown so fond of Frank, so comfortable with him, and I trust him. I knew that I wouldn't be waking up with him the next morning. I knew I wouldn't be spending the next week with him. He's sailing a yacht up to Newport, Rhode Island and I'm sure he spend the days after our trip packing and getting ready for his trip. He'll fly back home at the beginning of next week. I haven't had any contact with him since then. I know he needs space, and I know he is busy. I really just want to talk to him, to hug him, to kiss him. I need to know that he's thinking about me and missing me too. Everything else just doesn't seem as important when I'm around him. He told me not to steamroll him and I told him not to disappear. I'm ready for a phone call. I'm ready for him to come home. Today has been an empty day. I think about Frank, I think about my lack of money at the moment, I read books to keep my thoughts at bay when it seems like too much to process. I don't have any absolute answers right now. I have to take it one day at a time. Dallas's birthday dinner is this evening. The celebrating will roll over into the weekend. I don't know how on Earth I'm going to afford ANY of it. I have no money for drinking. I have no money for cover charges and dinners. I have to work. I go in tomorrow at the bookstore but I can't just ask for an advance on my first paycheck. I'm on thin ice. I'm skating by on the skin of my teeth. I've never been this destitute. I've got designer everything and no fucking money. I look like I'm wealthy but I'm poor on paper. I will finish college in the next year, or year and a half, and hopefully find a good job and start living the life I want to live. Shawn puts it best when he speaks of being gay and dealing with finances. "People don't realize how expensive this lifestyle is." I agree. It costs a lot of money to be gay. You have to keep up with the Joneses. Fuck the Joneses, I AM the Joneses. You can upgrade, at any time, but what nobody ever tells you is this: You can't downgrade. Not for a while anyways. You can't drive a Benz or a Jag and then decide, "Nah, this is too pricey, I think I'll go back to driving a little Honda." It is a big hit to your reputation if you do something like that. You can do it when you're older and you have a nice house and take vacations often and live an otherwise lavish lifestyle. Being gay has the side effect of having one of the worse social-viruses ever known to grace the face of the Earth. It's a virus rooted in envy, jealousy, hate, and shame. I'm doing much better than I was. I stopped buying new clothes. I've had my current car for over a year now. I don't go to the clubs and bars except for on rare occasion. I spend my time with friends I love, and I'm able to forget about the feelings I used to get when I would see muscular masculine men in the bars. I forget about the feelings of hate I would have for other queens, other bottoms, they were competition that needed to be squashed. I would convince myself that I was the better person, that I had so much more to offer a man, or that I was the more attractive and driven individual. I don't think about those feelings or those people at all when I'm with my friends. I don't want that sort of lifestyle. I want to live in a beautiful home with one man. I want a normal life. I want a family. I want holidays, and vacations, and memories. I want to be with Frank. I could see myself with a man like Frank. He makes me laugh, he makes me happy. I'm not going to force any commitment on him or throw down an intricate rule book for him to abide by. I just want to be myself and for him to be himself, just as long as it's just the two of us, I will continue to trust in him. I don't tell hardly anyone about my feelings for Frank. I don't want to jinx myself. I want to harness my feelings of warmth and fondness for him. I want to keep them to myself. I miss him. Come home Frank. Call me. Oh yeah, and please don't read this. ha ha ha. 

Blessings of the Breast Kind.

God has many ways of showing up in my life at the most random of times. Any ordinary day could turn into the most bizarre happenings imaginable. Take yesterday for instance. Since I've been unemployed since the end of May, I've spent most of my time working on my tan and spending time with friends. My friend Kyle suggested a beach day yesterday, which of course I couldn't turn down. He called me up, "Hey girl! Wear your square cuts. Me and Henry are going to wear ours!" Perfect. I'm always down for causing a scene in public. I show up at the beach after having taken apart the mannequin in my room. I stuffed her legs, detached arms, and torso into my trunk so I could give it to Kyle. This is besides the fact though. Kyle had called me back as I was pulling out of the driveway to tell me to wear some board shorts overtop just in case. I was frustrated seeing as I was JUST leaving and he and Henry were already there. "I'm not going to be showing up and looking like a Richard Simmons workout video co-host by myself. Take your damn shorts, off we're all going down together!" I walk onto the beach in my cutoff sweatpants, white True Religion tee, my Reef flip flops (complete with pop top beer bottle opener on the soles), and my Ray Ban Wayfarers. Of course, Kyle and Henry were rocking their lycra hot shorts and I had mine on as well. "Hello ladies!" I called out to them as I approached. I laid my towel next to them and got down to business, immediately starting work on my tan. The three of us gabbed, laughed, and were talking about men, their flaws and weaknesses, and insecurities that root completely from their own inner self-hatred. We were getting fired up, between cigarettes checking out the scenery on the beach. A woman sitting by herself about fifty feet away had gone into the water, coming back out and looking to be in great shape. I immediately commented, "She looked just like Bo Derek coming out of the water like that!" Henry, without missing a beat: "I'll do the braids girl!" Me: "I brought the beads!" We laughed. She had an incredible rack, which is really saying something if three gay men notice those things. She got up out of her chair to return to her beachfront condo a couple times. She hollered out to us about how every time she got up, her ass would hit the ground beneath her chair. I found it incredibly odd how this complete stranger would have the balls to call out to three random tan gay guys in spandex. Kyle followed up with more conversation after her second run towards the condo. We called her over, spoke briefly, and she offered us beer. SHE WAS IN. Offer alcohol to a gay man and he's all yours. You'll have us eating out of your hand. Of course we accepted the offer, and within minutes, our little miss Derek was walking up with a plastic bag full of Bud Light cans. She sat down on my towel. She asked us if we had noticed the older gentleman that had stepped onto the beach (in full business attire) to speak with her earlier. All of us recalled. Corinne, as we soon learn is her name, proceeds to spew stories about this man and his incredible wealth. "He bought me a $75,000 Mercedes and this huge ring from [insert some Italian jeweler's name you've never heard of]" She told us of his vulgarity; he was an absolute dog, not to mention he had a barrel belly, too much hair, and expected to buy his way into Corinne's heart. As the conversation progressed, Corinne's story changed ever-so minutely. The $75,000 car became a $100,000 car. Once she said it was a Silver Mercedes SL convertible and that she had hand delivered it back to him, walking miles to return home on foot, I remembered seeing that old man drive off in that same Mercedes....ONLY, this Mercedes was the OLD body style SL, and when purchased used, couldn't have POSSIBLY cost more than $25,000. She did have very fine holes in these stories if you looked hard enough, but why should Kyle, Henry, and I care? She brought us beer, she's beautiful, she's from Long Island and has this great attitude! Corinne wanted to go out later yesterday evening. I was down for it, but Kyle and Henry immediately bailed on me. I should have known right then that this was a BAD idea. I would have to face Corinne alone, and she was quite intimidating. Beautiful, but definitely with thorns; I couldn't see them, but I know roses, and I am aware of their downfall. Corinne sets the date for 7pm. We finish our beers, exchange numbers, and pack up. Kyle hands me his digital camera and makes me swear to take pictures of how she looks all dolled up. I get ready at the house, painstakingly making sure I am on the top of my game. I have to look sharp, but casual. I wear my most expensive True Religion jeans, and a Juicy Couture tee-shirt that I scored at TJMaxx for like $20. I pull up to Corinne's condo, flicking my cigarette on the ground, and moments later she emerges. Her hair went from wavy pony tail beach hair, to Anna Nicole Smith bombshell curls, except Corinne is a brunette (but was previously platinum). She approaches the car with a painted red smile plastered across her face. She's wearing red patent leather mary jane pumps, white embroidered jeans, and a red wrap top with white polka dots. The girl looked incredible, a complete 180. Kiss kiss, cheek one, cheek two. She slides into the passenger side of my Jaguar. "I've been riding in some pretty nice cars here recently," she comments. I smile but really don't have much to say at all. I'm intimidated and trying really hard not to show the beads of sweat starting to form on my brow. Corinne has this charisma, this zing that you don't see in other women. She's hot, and she's very well aware of this. She pulls from her purse this joint that resembles a poorly hand-rolled cigarette. It doesn't taper at either end like any joint I've ever seen. She lights up as I drive. She tokes up, offering to share her herbal delight with me. I take one drag off of her modified cigarette and know immediately that I'm done. That one tiny hit was enough for me. I don't smoke weed, and couldn't even tell you the last time I took a hit. Corinne lets the thing go out and I park the car in front of the little upscale tapas bar. We get out of the car, and she sits the joint on the wheel of my car so it's not inside. Smart woman. I wish you could have heard her speak. Corinne and I order our first drink after we walked in, and immediately step outside to smoke a cigarette. I am parched, starting to feel very paranoid, and now at the full mercy of Corinne, the incredible. The words flow from her mouth and she starts filling me in with the details of her life, previous relationships, and eventually, faith. When sitting on the bench out front, slowly inhaling lungfulls of cigarette smoke, Corinne finally breaks the ice on the subject of her breasts. "People always stare, but I take it as a compliment. I know I have this incredible body, and that's what it's for. I don't mind when people look." Then she drops the bomb: "God made me like this as a gift to you." I immediately lose all cigarette smoke in my lungs, and erupt into a fit of stoned laughter. "ME!? What do you MEAN!?" I spat out. Corinne responded, "And him," pointing to a random black man walking on the sidewalk, "and anyone that looks." This was not going well, although it was extremely entertaining to have this brunette bombshell on my arm all evening. We enter back into the bar, and I collapse into the first barstool I can find. Corinne saddles up next to me. She straddles one of my knees and I keep my body language to a pretty guarded stance. I always have an appendage of some sort blocking my body off from Corinne. She's very real when she talks. Her vocabulary is epic. She uses words that I haven't heard, only read in books. She tells me she's MENSA; meaning she's among the greatest thinkers on Earth. She's in the top 1% of the world, and that fat old millionaire man, he's in the 100th of the top 1%. Okay. It's official; I'm dealing with a smart lunatic now. I'm breezing through Purple Haze martini's and she's slowly plowing through Cosmo's. I have no choice but to drink, seeing as I can't escape this woman. Corinne starts her stories on giving back. This was the best part about our conversations. She made me tear up a couple times. Corinne is a giver. I think, personally, that Corinne is a very selfish giver, but I can still appreciate and understand her concept of giving, and would actually implement it myself....maybe. She tells me stories. She was in line at a supermarket and this woman is in front of her in the checkout line. She's got this huge honkin' diamond ring on, Corinne tells me. The woman starts to have a panic attack because she can't find her wallet once she gets to the front. Corinne immediately rushes to her aid, patting this mystery women on the shoulder and telling her in her thick Long Island accent, that "This one's on me. Don't worry about it." Corinne flashes her big white, straight smile, and touches my shoulder. Corinne pays the woman's $32 tab and gives the woman her number. Well, to me, that defeats the purpose of giving, because she does expect the woman to call and repay her in some mysterious unknown way. Well Corinne says the woman calls her and invites her to join her on her 100+ foot long yacht. "The thing has to have a crew, it's so big," Corinne informs me. Corinne says there are about 50 people on the boat. They're drinking Dom Perignon and doing lines of cocaine. They are getting into the hot tub but Corinne doesn't get in with the rest of the group. The woman who owns the boat takes Corinne down into some room and asks her why she won't get into the hot tub. Corinne tells this woman that she has had several children and it ruined her body. She tells this rich woman that she doesn't show off her chest or abdomen to anyone. "Show me. Come on, let's see," this rich woman says. Corinne lifts her shirt, showing off havoc that I can only imagine. The woman later confronts her husband, telling him, "She helped me! She didn't know me from Adam!" Hubby strokes an $11,000 check and, TA DA! Corinne has one incredible set of saline breast implants. This story is hard to believe, but I eat it up, hook, line, and sinker. She has other stories. One I particularly liked was when she was driving in her Mercedes with the top back. Her hair is flying all over the place (at this point, drunken/high Corinne shakes her head vigorously in the bar, making her hair fly as if it were in gale-force wind). She says she was wearing this hot black dress and just cruising. She sees this old, black, legless man (well, OK, he had ONE leg). Corinne tells me about how she backed up traffic while getting this elderly man into her convertible. She tells him that God has asked her to take him to his destination and buy him what he desires. He wants bananas and lottery tickets. "I won't buy your lottery tickets, but how about I take you to the grocery store and come back with some surprises for you." Of course the man was skeptical. Beautiful white women in a Mercedes offering to buy him stuff. I'd have thought to myself, "Isn't this how horror movies start?" But he did trust her. She tells me that she gets him to the grocery store and leaves him in her Mercedes with the key in the ignition and the top back still, and she trusts the man in her car. Corinne tells me about all the fruits she buys him, and how she comes back to the car with bags of groceries. She takes him back home to the Veterans' hospital. She smiles at me too much. I'm very nervous around Corinne as she tells me these stories, smiling the whole time. She touches me constantly, and never gets more than 18 inches away from my face almost the entire time. She hugs me between stories, and makes very many comments about how attractive I am. She apologizes for being a heterosexual. She wants to kiss me so bad. She doesn't want sex, but she wants to kiss me. This makes me very uncomfortable. She starts with another story about running through a grocery store to locate an elderly black woman's cane. She brings one back that was turned in, but it wasn't the woman's cane. Corinne finds the cane on an isle, rushes back out to return it to the woman, and the old woman weeps. This touches me deeply. Corinne grabs my shoulders, pulls me in, and gets all of 8 inches away from my face. Her eyes are locked onto my soul, and I can count every eyelash at this point. "Take the time. Find the cane. Buy the candy. Give it all away." She tells me this at least 25 times. Corinne sees me looking at her breasts. She pulls her wrap shirt back and shows me one of her breasts. She has large nipples, but great looking boobs. I've seen them like that in porn before. I know they are good from what I've heard other men talk about them. I'm a little shocked, but she's very comfortable. I've said all of five words the entire time I've been with her. She dominates the conversation. She's high as hell! By martini number 76, I'm starting to lose the high feeling and starting to feel more like myself. Corinne shows me her boobs several times, getting more and more obvious about it as time goes by. I'm starting to worry that other people, who are quickly arriving, will see them and recoil in shock. Hiroshima/Nagasaki is yet to hit. Minutes later, the bomb is being released. Corinne holds my hand and walks me back to the restroom with her. Dave, our bartender, is a friend of mine. We talk a lot when I'm there, and he knows my friends. Out of the corner of my eye, I've seen him all night, holding back his laughter, and making shocked faces. I can't look at him for fear of Corinne catching on to Dave's little game that I'm involved in. I just smile wider and stare into Corinne's eyes. But back to the moment, Corinne stumbles towards the women's shitter, me dragging behind her. People are standing, there's a nice crowd of 20-somethings hanging out, having drinks. Corinne weaves between them, almost losing her footing on a couple occasions. I'm nearly sober, because I have to be at this point. She goes into the bathroom, and pulls me in. She locks the door and starts playing with her wrap top. She unties it. One breast is now fully exposed. There is a knock at the door. "You can't have two people in there. You're going to have to come out of there." It is Dave. I smile. Corinne pushes me behind the door and opens it up partially to talk to him. "Corinne! Your boob is hanging out!" I yell, but it's too late and she didn't notice anyway. "Just give me 10 seconds. I just need a little time here with my friend," she protests. This is completely out of my hands. Dave doesn't let her stop, but is wide-eyed, at the door, Corinne halfway out with her tit as clear as day. She manages to tie her top and walk out. I come out second, and the entire bar is looking in our direction. People are smiling, hooting and hollering, and ERUPT into applause! They are clapping like crazy, and EVERYONE has now witnessed the incredible beauty of Corinne's breasticlites. I just smile. I turned to Dave as everyone is clapping, "Did everyone see her boob?" I was hoping he'd say no. "Yes. They all did." FUCK. Great. I'm mortified. I just smile and return to my seat. This woman is out of control. I paid my tab. I paid her tab (she at least gave me a $20 to cover part of hers). I still paid over $32 with tip and everything. Dallas, one of my best friends, called me up a couple times and said she was going to stop by. When she finally arrived, she had missed the tit show. I was just in so deep, I couldn't help but smile and play along with Corinne. We kissed on the lips and hugged. Dallas shows up and gives me THE look. It says to me, "What that FUCK are you doing? OMIGOD, you're SO lucky I'm here." Dallas says, "I'm driving you guys home." Corrine is attempting to order another Cosmo, but Dave has cut her off, but he does it nicely by saying that she just needs to wait a few minutes. I'm done. Corrine is talking some crazy bullshit in my ear and Dallas is on the sidelines making comments to herself. She's laughing and she's pitying me. I can sense it. I give Dallas the keys and tell Corrine that, "I'm spending the night with her. I'm really sorry." She had been hoping I'd share her bed with her. Not for sex of course. She's looking for more of a cerebral fuck.  A mind fuck. Someone who can stimulate her mentally. I remind her of her handmade doobie. She picks it off the tire, and gets in the back seat with me. She's kissing on my neck, laughing. Dallas is having a fit behind the steering wheel. I'm able to pry Corinne off of me at her condo without having to use a crowbar, but it was still difficult. She went inside, the door closed, I fell into the passenger seat of my car, and Dallas immediately lays it on. "What the fuck!?" she starts, "You're not ever calling her again. You're not going to Paris with her." I tried to explain myself. I'd only just met her on the beach. "Well," Dallas says, "do you want me to take you back to the bar so you can apologize to everyone?" I laugh. "No, just take me home, I need to be in my bed." Moral of story? "Take the time. Find the cane. Buy the candy. Give it all away"...Just don't show your boobs in public again Corinne. I still had a tab to pay, AND we got cutoff. Give a gay man booze, and he's yours forever. Get a gay man cutoff, and you're DONE SON. 

The Gay Rage

Yesterday, Thursday, was quite the unexpected day. Instead of going to my second job, I received an e-mail on my phone from the Boss Lady (BL) telling me that we really needed to get word of the website's existance out there to the community. I was relieved of having to drive to Portsmouth, but instead was instructed to hit local libraries, hair salons, and day spas. I went to the downtown Hampton library first. I didn't see any sort of community bulletin board, so I looked up plastic surgery books and quickly located a small section of books having to do with plastic surgery, cosmetic procedures, and things of that nature. I gingerly placed the postcard-sized flyers between the pages of each book that applied to cosmetic procedures of any kind. I thought to myself that this was pointless because if anyone has to do research these days, they just look it up online instead of checking out books at a library. I found a day spa on the way home that I didn't know existed and decided to check it out. I went inside and spoke with the receptionist. She was the same girl that grew up three houses down from my own. She was a couple years older than me, so I never really spent time with her or got to know her. I left her my flyers and information on Cosmetic Procedure Resource Alliance. I hit two more libraries and a hair salon before calling it quits at five.

Andrew had sent me a text asking if I wanted to go shopping with him. By the time he showed up at my house it was already around seven thirty. The mall closed at nine and it was over twenty minutes away. He wanted to go out to The Garage in Norfolk.

The Low Down on The Garage:
The Garage is a bar for older men generally speaking. It's known to me as HIV central. The men are shady and very forward in regards to sexual advances. I know it is by no means a playground for younger gay men. It's the kind of place you get taken advanage of at.

I told Andrew I didn't have the gas to get there but somehow he convinced me to drive anyways. In hindsight, I should have never drove. I gassed up and waited for Andrew while he bought a new pack of cigarettes and two bottles of "5 Hour Energy". He handed me one once he got in the car. I tried to rock out and sing as loud as I could in the car on the way down, but Andrew kept turning down the volume and tried to talk to me. I was getting irritated but I shut up and just listened to him.

Once we got there, I parked in a small lot across the street from The Garage (The Gay Rage). Swarms of shady looking men walked across the parking lot as we pulled in. Andrew said there was some sort of homeless soup kitchen not far away that drew out all kinds of creepy people. We got out and walked around the bar, entering through the back door. I was quickly introduced by Andrew to this beautiful young Latino bartender named Manny. Andrew pointed out his boyfriend, and also told me that Manny was poz (HIV positive). He had also seen Manny in some porn on Papi.com at one point (Manny later confirmed when it was brought up that the rumour was in fact true). I drank a few beers and Andrew threw back a few Amaretto sours. The end of the bar that we were at was mainly young guys like us, but there were few of us compared to the large number of older creeps everywhere else. The old men nursed drinks all night and eye-fucked us as best they could. I ignored everyone else, mainly trying to stick within a five foot radius of my own surroundings. Manny was super nice and joked around with us, making fun of Andrew and the other guys near us. It was fun. I really did enjoy myself.

My friend Lon Hurst showed up later on in the evening and I spen a good deal of time speaking with him. He ordered me a beer and I thanked him. We talked about relationships (as we often do) and about astrological signs. He's a cancer, which definitely describes why I get along with him so well and enjoy his company. Andrew was ready to leave at that point, so I threw back the beer and he paid his tab.

Andrew and I got home safe. He bitched at every chance in the car because I wouldn't let him smoke inside the cabin. We hugged in my driveway and he left.

That was all fine and dandy, Thursday turned out pretty good. Today was a different story.

I had a very vivid dream last night. There were a few friends, my mother, and me. We went to a party upstairs in a new high rise bar in New York City. My mother was finishing eating some dish with rice and chopped onions. I asked her where she got it from and she told me she got it from some fast-food style restaurant. I had to drive to get to it. I drove through the night to get to this place. It was all by itself on the outskirts of the city scape. As I got closer, I noticed it was fenced off. I found a break in the fence and drove up to the back side of the building, parking right next to the sliding double doors. I walked all of three feet from the car to get inside. The place was full of people and it was brightly lit inside. I had barely had the chance to look around before I noticed a man behind the counter with a gun in his hand. He had a shaved head and a scruffy short beard sprinkled with gray. He told everyone to hand over their money, yelling loudly, rage inside his eyes. I looked down at my hands, looking at a five and two ones. The man with the gun was looking t his right. Since I was left of him and right at the door, I slowly backed up and got outside the building. I saw him turn in my direction, looking at a man not too far from the door. "IS THAT YOUR CAR?! THAT'S YOUR CAR HUH?!" My eyes widened as I watched with horror. The man didn't see me. He pointed his gun and fired through the window, shooting out the window and putting holes in the hood of my car. I watched the shots, still backing up slowly from the building and my car. The shots continued and I went to turn around. I squinted my eyes at the noise and suddently felt burning sensations in my chest. I had been hit below my collarbone on the left side of my body. Even as I slept, I could feel the pain burning straight from my chest to my back. I had been shot. I panicked. I don't remember the rest. I woke up feeling doomed, wounded, and emotionally drained.

I got ready for school. I was running a few minutes late. I jumped into my car and threw the vehicle into reverse. I heard a clicking sound. I slowed down but the sound continued. I looked at my side view mirror on the passenger side of the car. It was stuck. When I reverse, the side mirror tilts down and inwards so I can see the curb when I back up. When I put the car in drive, it tilts back up and out to where I have it set normally. It was stuck on something. I didn't think anything of it, and since I was in a rush, I just drove to school, having to turn around to check the right side if I needed to change lanes. Once I was in the parking lot at school, I walked around to that side to push the mirror into place and see what the problem was. My jaw hit the ground when I realized the damage. Someone had hit my car the night before when it was parked in downtown Norfolk. There was a puncture on the back side of the mirror. There was a scuff on the passenger door and a dent in it as well. I ran into class anyways. I sent my mom a text message asking if the insurance premiums would raise if they took care of it. I went to SEPHORA to talk to some old coworkers after class and while inside, received a call from my mom. I told her I wanted to cry. I just knew she was going to think it was all my fault and that I was just some wreckless drunk. At first, I said I wanted to cry just to try to gain her sympathy but in the process, I started tearing up in reality. I was so upset. She just told me it was okay. She told me it was minor and we could get it fixed. She hung up. I don't have the time. I don't have a single moment when I DON'T need my car. I'm devistated. It's not something I can have fixed anywhere. I'm going to have to take it to the Acura dealership and it's going to cost an arm and a leg. Insurance will cover some of the cost and I'm sure the rest is on me. There goes that tax return I was saving for a rainy day. How irresponsible is that for some drunk to hit a nice ass Acura and not leave any kind of insurance information or anything? "I mean, it's not like I drive a '96 Civic!" I told Ryan over the phone today. He laughed at me. I know it sounds stupid when you put it that way, but, "If I hit some nice ass Mercedes, I'd be like, 'SHIT!' but I'd still leave the insurance information on the car," I told Ryan.
"No you wouldn't bitch, you know you'd have driven off too!" His response was comical and provided the relief I needed but still, I wouldn't have done to someone else what was done to me.

Ryan and I talked for a while after I got my oil changed today (this was after I was done at SEPHORA). He told me I should just skip classes and have a ME day. He broke me down pretty bad on the phone talking about my relationship rituals and my attitude. I felt like everyone really saw me the way he described me. I feel like I'm this gold-digging kid that wants to play house for some old man. I feel like someone with no self-confidence that can't even stand on his own two feet that just believes everything that people tell him. Ryan said it's even worse when I'm drunk. I took his words as best I could. I wanted to hang up. I didn't want to hear it. It was horrible. I was so emotionally drained and completely void of all emotions. I still am right now. I'm going to skip my English class tonight. It's just a tutoring night, and I don't feel like bleeding all over some pitiful student's papers anyway.

Ryan says I have to change. I just feel like if I did, I'd just be pretending I was someone I'm not. Ryan and I are very different. I have this view of money. I don't "gold dig" but I want someone that has that financial freedom. I don't ask for their money, but it's nice to know that they can take vacations and have nice things, and not have to worry about just making it from paycheck to paycheck. I'm going to school to be a doctor, and that means that I'll be a big bread-winner at some point. It may not be for a while, but I don't want anyone to just use me and rely on me for that. I want to be with someone who is equally powerful in terms of finances. I want to retire early and travel, and do everything I've ever wanted to do. I don't want to be with some dead beat that has a dead-end job and can barely make ends meet. Ryan just looks at it in terms of happiness. I don't want money to be something you argue over, and when you don't have it, that's exactly what it is. I can't change my views on money, but I guess I'll have to definitely stop talking about it (I guess that Ryan things I make references to things and objects too much).

I'm going to go home and sleep. I just need to relax. I really hate life today. I hate being me. I hate being here, and I hate the fact that Andrew made me drive last night.

Reconciliation with Jason / A New Love

I had a falling out with Ryan on Tuesday night. It's a long story, and certainly one I'd love to talk about, but won't. Just let it be said that things have since cleared up and the both of us have a newfound determination to once again ban ourselves from our once-sacred neighborhood bar.

Tuesday night was the night that I decided to step foot into that shit hole once agian. I went there by myself. I had spent the earlier parts of the evening preparing myself for a night out. I was planning on going to the Wave for some reason, but due to inclimate weather conditions and the late time, I just decided I'd settle for a quiet evening at the Pocket. It was anything but quiet to say the least.

It had been building in me for some time to speak to Jason. After the extravaganza about him supposedly talking trash about me to JT, I decided I'd clear up the speculation and rumours that had been flying like cupid's arrows on Valentine's day. Jason was in the back of the bar in the off-limits kitchen. Since I'm a long time bar fly and one of the people looked fondly on by Frank, it's never a problem for me to get into the back with the employees. Since Jason was dating Naomi, he usually spends a good deal of time in the back with her as she readies herself. As expected, I easily found him in the back. I smiled at him, "Could I talk with you for a minute?" I pulled him aside. I spoke to him about my situation as of recent and how I didn't want the rift between us to continue because deep down, whenever I see him, I DO want to say hello and smile, and when I can't, it just doesn't feel natural for me. I'm a very friendly person. I always give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I am not used to having any enemies, so the thought of not allowing to speak to anyone is something that has caused a decent amount of inner turmoil.

Jason stood in the dark doorway that I had led him to and listened intently. Maybe he was just telling me what I wanted to hear and keeping the truth of some twisted scheme to himself, but it worked either way. I took his words for the truth and swallowed them hook, line, and sinker. I felt better. Mind you, all of this took about three cocktails before I had the courage to try to start the conversation with him.

I won't divulge into further detail about that night, but it did end up finishing with a bang.

Everything in my life has been straightening out. The raging tidal waves in my life have been flattened out to smooth glass-like waters. I'm not used to these slow periods. I work as hard as I can to make sure that I avoid these slow periods in my life. It's absolutely dreadful for me to spend an evening at home. There's nothing wrong with home, I just believe I'm more social than that. Unfortunately I do have a pile of school work that I need to get started on. I have less than a week now to create a test based on every chapter in my history book.

On the romantic front, I've been talking to a man that has been, so far, AMAZING. He shares my views on relationships, finance, and careers. He's a homebody, a book worm, and a professor with a Phd. He's 34. I can't begin to tell you how many nails he has just hit on the head when it comes to my somewhat lengthy, newly revised checklist of traits and characteristics that my next partner will be required to have. He is six foot three inches tall. He's muscular and takes care of his body. He's extremely romantic, and idealistic when it comes to love. He believes commitment should be for life. He loves to kiss. He's very passionate about what love should be like, as am I. I could go on and on, but I really don't want to put all my eggs in one basket and get overworked and possibly disappointed if something fails. I will say that I do have my fingers crossed on this one.

The Tuesday Grind

Tuesdays usually offer nothing other than a small crowd at the bar in Newport News. I had exchanged text messages with Rob the night before and had been invited to meet him and Lenny out for dinner. My classes ended at 6:45PM which gave me barely enough time to drive to Lenny's house and await Rob's arrival. I walked through Lenny's back door and not a minute later Rob walked through the front. Lenny rode with Rob and I followed. 

We went to a small local neighborhood Italian restaurant that Rob and Lenny frequent on an almost weekly basis. The owner smiled and greeted us, joking around with Rob and Lenny. A gay couple sat in the booth behind Rob (I sat beside Lenny). One man was gorgeous. I'd assume him to be in his forties, Latino with very dark hair (black with a little salt and pepper on the sides). He wore stylish glasses and dressed far nicer and more professional than his parter. The partner had a buzzed head with a lot of gray. He was really butch, both were to be exact, one just more in a metrosexual way than the other. They were an odd pair, but had been together for years according to Rob. The latin guy must have been related to Frida Kahlo judging by the single tremendous brow spanning across his forehead. He was still very distinct and attractive, and in some sort of strange way, he looked fine with the unibrow. 

Dinner was absolutely superb. I had the chicken souvlaki. It was very Greek. It came with a greek salad, pita bread, some sort of marinated chicken that had been grilled, and fries. I ate the slowest out of the three. Dinner conversation was casual if I can remember correctly, but to be honest, Lenny and Rob ate so quickly, it must have been me doing all the talking. Talks of shopping sprung up after dinner, so it was voted on and decided that we'd hit a couple shops. We went to T.J.Maxx and looked around for half an hour or so. I ended up grabbing an Abercrombie tee and an American Eagle polo (the only decent thing in XS). I was the only one who bought anything surprisingly. Lenny is the big shopper and since he's so particular about what he likes (he is a local fashion icon), I can't be but so surprised he left empty handed. 

We went out to the bar very early. I sat down and had a drink or two before Ryan called. I figured he wouldn't want to come out, so I told him, "I'm just here hanging out with Rob and Lenny. I was waiting for you to get off work, so whenever you're ready, let me know and I'll come over and we can start getting ready and go from there." He ended up calling me back only to tell me to stay there and that he'd meet me. Rob works early mornings, so it was no surprise when he decided to duck out around eleven. I agreed to drive Lenny back home at the end of the night and that all would be fine. 

Ryan showed up eventually. It really hadn't been too busy inside. A guy walked in that I had seen earlier on in the evening. He had been there before Ryan arrived, drinking quietly and devoting all of his attention to doing something on his LG Voyager cell phone. I kept waiting for him too look up so I could walk over and introduce myself but he never did. He left and was now back. I pointed him out to Ryan. "That's the guy that was here earlier." I didn't look to see where he went when he walked past me, but Ryan could see since he was facing in that direction.

"Well apparently he knows Jason." I turned around to see the two hugging and it clicked. My jaw dropped when I watched them hug and smile. I know why he looked familiar. I'd seen him on the Gay.com chat one night and we spoke briefly. He has a couple of small dogs and really struck me as the homebody type. He mentioned the fact that he worked in retail and it eventually came out that he is the man that Jason (my ex-boyfriend) answers to. I quickly told Jason who this mystery man was and told Frank I wanted to talk to him at the other end of the bar. Frank was in the middle of pouring a drink.

"Is this one from you?" he asked, holding up a glass and motioning over to the mystery man. 

"Yeah, go ahead and put it on my tab." I just wanted to be nice, but now it was starting to be more out of spite than anything. Frank dropped the drink and informed him that the gentleman at the other end of the bar had got the drink for him. I showed no emotion on my face, nor did I even look at him to see if he was looking at me. I'm sure Jason immediately made comments seeing as his ex-boyfriend, yours truly, had purchased his boss a cocktail. Frank came over to me and I spilled the beans. "THAT is why he looked so familiar. I bet you Jason is over there talking shit about me right now."

"Oh no baby, I really don't think he'd do that. He really just wants everyone to get along. He and I had a very long conversation the other day. He called me and we talked." Frank could have really had me going if I had let him, but not that night. Before the conversation could be continued, this man came up to me and put his hand on my back as I leaned over a bar table facing Frank.

"Did you buy me a drink?" he asked.

"Yes, I did." I don't think I hardly made eye contact with him.  He shook my hand and thanked me, claiming to be "very appreciative," and that hopefully he could sometime "return the favor." He walked off without ever saying his name or mentioning the fact that we'd spoke online before. It was the most terrible performance of gratitude I think I've ever been forced to witness. 

I walked across the bar to where Lenny was standing at the time and we lit up cigarettes and spoke briefly about nothing particularly important. When I turned back to the bar, I saw Ryan sitting and staring in the direction of Jason and his boss. Ryan didn't look happy. His eyes were sharp and somewhat squinted. His arms were folded. "What's wrong?" I asked. 

"They're talkin' shit." He looked at me then. "You wanna know how I know? Because when you walked over there to talk to Lenny, they were talking and both turned and looked at you the same time and started laughing."

My blood started boiling. My smile straightened out and the light in my eyes went out and was replaced by fire. "I'm going to say something. I'm fucking pissed!" I was about to go over to them when Ryan grabbed my wrist.

"No, don't say anything. Just calm down, it's not worth it." I'm so non-confrontational it's not even funny. That evening was entirely unlike all the other nights. This time, I felt like I couldn't take it any more. I wasn't going to sit around and have my good deeds turned around in my face. Jason had ruined my reputation to that man at least. 

Ryan followed me to the other end of the bar. Frank came up to us. I was staring at Jason and the other guy. "What's wrong fellas?" Frank did look genuinely concerned as he spoke to us. We tried to simplify the story. Frank went on and on about how "Jason wouldn't do that. He really wouldn't. He wants everyone to get along. I spoke with him." He went on and on about it until I just cut him off. 

"Frank, people will blindly betray your trust... He's smarter than that Frank. You know he knows better than to talk about us around you. He's smarter than to do that." Frank shut up. Ryan went on to tell him that we had a lot of history with Jason between the two of us. My drag queen CoraVette Colby was in the house in her guy form that night (Omar). He was more concerned about my well being than I was at that point.

"I don't like to see you sad like this boo."

"I'm not sad, I'm just really pissed off."

"Who pissed you off? I'll take care of it!" Cora means well but I wasn't about to have her making a fool out of herself just for my sake. It was sweet though. Omar/Cora even bought me a drink. After I finished that, I decided I was too angry and just needed to leave. 

I was two seconds away from walking out the door when Ryan stopped me. 

"Aren't you taking Lenny home tonight?"

"Oh SHIT! Yeah, I am. Thanks for reminding me. That would've been pretty bad."

He put his hand over his mouth and laughed and so did I. It was pretty bad. We looked over to see Lenny talking to this guy with a shaved head and a goatee. He was obviously interested but the guy had had it with Lenny's intoxicated state. When I told Lenny I was ready to go, he said he was too and mumbled something about the guy next to him hating him, so he was ready to leave anyways. After ten minutes, his drink was still at the same level and he was still working on this guy who he claimed hated him. He was overboard at that point. Lenny finally got away and we left. Ryan went home, and I took Lenny home before returning myself back to my bed. 

Weekend, and the CoPo Reunion

After working for a week straight at the bank, it was no secret that I was in need of leaving town since it was technically my spring break week. By a series of fortunate events, I was able to forego working on Saturday morning. It just so happened that a coworkers son was ill at school on Friday, which caused her to be dismissed from work early. In turn, my boss made her go in on Saturday and I was given the day off. 

I had a dinner date with my friend Mark on Friday night, and since I was off the hook for Saturday morning, I could stay out late if I wanted to. Mark and I met for dinner a little after seven. We both sat down and started talking while we waited to be greeted in the bar-like atmosphere. Mark ordered a New Castle beer and I had diet coke. The conversation started casual enough,  but we really dove deep into some serious topics and dinner progressed. We talked about work and coming out stories, embarrassing moments, and family relations. One beer turned into a couple for Mark. I talked more once I finished my chicken alfredo. I only managed to eat half before asking for a box. Mark and I talked and laughed and took turns talking. He would warn me when I spoke too loudly. We'd laugh, both decide we didn't give a fuck, and that I would back Mark up if he had to fight the guy in the booth behind me. We both finished, and I drank a couple cups of coffee as a band set up their equipment in the restaurant. We listened to them play a couple songs before deciding that we had to leave. We left Mark's car there and I drove us both back to my house so I could use the bathroom (since the one at the restaurant was very small and exposed and I didn't feel comfortable using it since it was a straight bar/restaurant). We left Hampton in my car and headed down to Skip's in Norfolk. 

At Skips, Mark taught me how to play darts. I would have really good throws, and throws that would land two darts on the floor and one on the outskirts of the board. It was looking close towards the end, but Mark's accuracy won him the game of 301 that we played together. We didn't hang out too long before we went back home. I took him to his car, said goodnight, and headed back home. 

I left home on Saturday morning around eleven. I made pretty good time getting down to the Outer Banks. I got to Manteo two hours after I left my house. Victoria greeted me from the second story balcony of her uncle's beach house. It was really windy, but would have otherwise been a very comfortable day. Her hair was wavy and unkempt in the wind although it was clearly clean and natural. She hadn't put on her makeup yet. She crossed her arms in an attempt to conserve body heat. She looked so great. I hugged her and pulled my back up to the front door. I finished a cigarette to help de-stress me from the easy but hectic drive. Vic ran in to beat the cold and I stayed until I finished the cig. 

When I came inside, I was greeted by Michael, Victoria's boyfriend, who was setting up an elaborate board game called HeroScape. I claimed a bed before anyone else got to the house and hung out at the kitchen table with Vic and Mike. Michael finally got the board set up. I played a game with small figures that looked like samurai's and vikings. I was the viking team and Michael was the samurai's. He kicked my ass and killed every one of my army before I killed the first on his team. It was all about rolling dice and the combination of skulls and shields each player rolled. Apparently someone shit on my dice before I would roll. 

Victoria's sister Caitlin was the first to walk through the door after my entrance. After Cait, Cait's boyfriend John came in, and then his friends Lee and Miles (both guys). Victoria's cousin Sarah showed up with a younger unidentified male. Sarah's uncle owns the house. Sarah's guest was none other than her younger brother Roy. Roy was quite a character. Sarah had warned Roy that there would be a gay guy in the house but told him that I was pretty cool and that he'd get along fine with me. After the first few minutes, Roy found Sarah in the crowded house and told him that I was quite possibly the coolest one in the whole house. I was really glad that this small minded Poquoson guy thought I was a pretty fun guy. I worked extra hard for the rest of the evening to keep everyone laughing and having a good time. I felt like I really had to work on Roy to make him realize that all gay people aren't terrible people. 

The whole gang emptied plastic and paper bags out into the freezer as soon as they got to the house. There was a rather fast-growing collection of liquor. The freezer became quite the liquor museum. Bottles gathered in the door on three shelves. Two shelves on the interior were inhabited by good men such as Jim, Jose, Jack, and our feathered friend Gray. Malibu was also in the ranks followed by some amaretto and Bacardi Superior. Everyone was getting hungry for dinner but John first wanted to do a shot. He convinced me to do it, claiming it wasn't that bad and that his girlfriend Caitlin had even tried it. Upon this remark of his she spoke up, "It tastes like fingernail polish remover." This was the comfort I'm sure I needed at the moment but I fixed a chaser of orange juice and prepared myself anyways. I had to prove to the guys early on that I was an equal contender and that I was man enough too. 

John fixed up five shots for most of the guys. The four horsemen, as it's called, is made of Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, Jose Cuervo, and Bacardi 151 (quite the surprise that this lethal liquor-wonder found it's way to the freezer). The shots were small thankfully. The red solo cups gathered in the center of the kitchen for a quick cheers before their liquid interiors disappeared into separate stomachs to work on and burn. I finished all but a tiny swig on the first gulp. I chased it quickly as a drop or two left the corner of my mouth. It was tough to keep down, but I managed. Sarah found some Duck tape that we used to write our names on and affix to the now empty cups so they wouldn't get mixed up when the real party started after our dinner out. 

Five of us piled into John's SUV. Victoria's car contained her and Michael, Sarah and Roy. John's whole crew was in his vehicle and it just so happened that I rode with them to break up the two groups of people. We didn't drive too far down the main road in Manteo before parking in the small parking lot of a tiny independent seafood joint. Nine of us loudly entered making our entrance quite an interesting sight for the staff I'm sure. It's the off season, so I'm sure they aren't used to having parties larger than three or four. We were seated at the back of the restaurant in a larger room. We were getting a little loud. The guys were the main concern since we had quite a high concentration of booze swimming around in our stomachs being soaked up by nothing at all other than our stomach walls. Out empty stomachs growled as we quickly raped the menu's contents and picked the first appealing entree. Orders were placed and a couple salads were dropped in front of the proper females. Before salads were even finished the entrees arrived. Everyone ate and laughed and was entertain. Other tables started to fill up in the room and the staring match began. Other tables in the vicinity started taking an active interest in our table. We finished the food quickly. Victoria passed her uneaten shrimp to Roy who hadn't ordered any food. Sarah and I split the chicken fingers and split the rest of Caitlin's shrimp. Michael's skinny body had already felt the effects of the alcohol. He tipped his empty plate towards his face and slurped the rest of the gravy from his hamburger steak as his girlfriend Victoria tried to not watch but focused her efforts mainly in contorting her face into positions that made me want to vomit more than the sheer fact that Michael was drinking gravy off his plate. Everyone had finished eating but before the checks were dropped, one more surprise would surface. Five servers walked up, one holding a goblet of ice cream and cake with a single candle on top. Everyone sang happy birthday to Victoria. Her 21st is on the 13th but this was the early celebration. Her sister Caitlin had worked out the secret deal with the server somehow without ever being noticed. It was good. Everyone in the dining room watched us, and I didn't feel so guilty for being so loud anymore. It was a celebration and we were here for Victoria.  We cashed out and left. 

Once back at the house, the drinks started being poured. I decided I was going to pace myself. It was only six or six thirty when we started drinking. We played several rounds of the card game "Kings" and all had quite a few laughs in between. I grabbed beer out of the fridge for Roy, opening each one to prove to him how great of a guy I was, but also pushing him to see if he'd draw a line. He never did, but I wasn't hitting on him either. During a cigarette break, Roy's sister Sarah joined me outside. 

"Roy is so crazy, he's a trip. Is he only like this when he drinks?" I asked.

"No, he's like this all the time." 

"He's a Leo isn't he?" I asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know?! That's crazy!"

Roy was obviously a Leo. He wasn't even that drunk when he started ignoring the rules to the game, making a scene, and hogging all the spotlight. He was definitely the ferocious Leo that had to have the spotlight. My best friend Ryan is a Leo, so I know enough about them to be able to readily identify them. We went back inside to keep playing. We refilled and refilled and refilled as the drinking game quickly lowered our drinks even though they somehow magically recovered and I never saw the bottom of a Solo cup throughout the night. I was drinking Jack and coke for most of the evening. I mixed them weak so I could last through the night and not throw up. It's a good thing I paced myself, otherwise I'd have never made it through. 

Drama sprung up eventually as it does in the middle of all good times. Michael is so thin, he became so drunk he could hardly keep his head up. Roy was being obnoxious and made the poor move of bringing up the subject of Victoria's ex boyfriend. Vic ended up crying at that point but I just ignored it and talked to Caitlin, Lee, and Miles to try to at least keep us buzzed. They worked out their stuff and Vic turned off the tears. Later, on another cig break, I held my cigarette up to Caitlin's lips to ask her if she wanted a drag, but before she could decide, she looked into the house to see her boyfriend looking right at her and he was obviously furious. She ran inside and the second battle broke out. It took a good half hour for those two to recover. The music kept playing and we had a great time. 'Gray Goose' played and we all danced like birds and took pictures of each other taking swigs out of the GG bottle. We drank it straight. That was a trip. 

The final round of drama was the sobering moment for everyone. Roy had drank more than his fair share. The next morning, it was determined that he drank about sixteen beers and two to three shots. Roy decided he wanted to fight John. Naturally, John wasn't going to fight. Roy was smiling about it, saying he just wanted to 'throw down'. I tried to level with him once he didn't stop. "Roy, if you want to hit someone, just hit me." He smiled and said he didn't want to fight me. Michael sat him down after another ten minutes of him trying to get John to fight with him. I was starting to get mad so I went to the fridge and grabbed a box of beer. I passed out full cans to everyone in the room as Michael continued to talk to Roy. It was understood that if Roy tried to hit anyone, we would beat him repeatedly in the head with full beer cans until he was out cold. Of course this would have probably never happened but this was my drunken idea of a scare tactic. It was more like a silent protest. I told everyone to just shut up and hold onto the beer. 

Then Roy got sloppy. He got up and fell down a couple times. I decided I'd seen enough. Everyone was sitting on couches and we were pissed and quickly sobering up. I went to the bedroom. I was drunk, but still able to lay down. I heard things escalate to new levels as everyone moved outside. Sarah, Roy's brother, who had been in bed was now awake and moving her shit out to the car to take Roy and her home at three in the morning. Victoria was crying hysterically and shouting to Sarah and Roy, "If anything ever happens, I'll never forgive myself!" They didn't leave. I don't know why they stayed, but they did. I heard Michael pull Roy into the back bedroom next to mine. He was telling him that the cops had been called and that the neighbors called to let them know they'd be showing up. The cops never were called, and since the house had no land line, there was no possible way the neighbors could have called to warn us. Michael was obviously tired of putting up with Roy.

"You stay inside this room and if you come out I'm going to beat the shit out of you!" he was yelling now. "If you want to fight somebody, you're going to fight me right now!" That was it. He stayed, and I fell asleep. 

The next day I was up around ten. I ate a bowl of Reese's Pieces with Vic. A few other people were awake including Roy, who was laughing and smiling like nothing happened the night before. I tried to joke about it to play it down, but it was obvious that more people than just myself were holding secret grudges. I told Roy, "Man, even I was starting to get pissed. I was literally two seconds away from getting out of bed, putting my clothes on and coming out there to riverdance on your fuckin' face until you bled from the ears!" I shuffled my boots on the floor, made a funny face, and started whipping my head around. Everyone laughed, and I did too until I pulled a muscle in my neck. Victoria showed me the parrot sculpture that she broke the night before when she was cleaning up the piss that was all over the bathroom floor thanks to Roy. She'd already decided that Roy was going to take the fall for the broken parrot, and everyone else quickly agreed that if anything had gone wrong at all, Roy deserved to take full responsibility for everything. 

I gathered my things and drove home with one very sore neck. I couldn't even turn it. I had to hold up a compact mirror to check my blind spot before making lane changes. I got home in two hours and fell onto my bed. I had called his guy Ryan on Saturday night to set up a hang-out date on Sunday once I got back. I called him around two when I was almost home. I left a voicemail but never heard back from him. I slept from two until seven. I called him when I got up after I saw that he hadn't returned my call. His phone went straight to voicemail and I was suddenly ready to write him off. 

I was wide awake after taking the extended nap. I picked up Miranda and drove down to Norfolk to go to Skips. This time there was a different bartender who decided to be a dick. I ordered a diet coke and he carded me. I was ordering a coke, I mean, was he serious? He told me it was a 21 and up bar. "But I don't want to drink, I was just going to have a diet coke, and you're telling me I can't even just hang out?" I put my cigarette out on a bar chair just to prove a point and it caught on fire. Just kidding. I was pissed but I took my cigarette back outside with me before I put it out in the parking lot. I drove Miranda home but I was still hell bent on going out. I drove to the Corner Pocket. I know I wasn't supposed to go, but it was my last option, and I was not going home. I got there at one.

Frank: NO WAY! (smiling brightly) Baby, where have you been?

I hugged him. I was smiling and I wasn't about to be mean about it. I hung out with Frank and talked to him for the remaining open hour at the bar. I drank two drinks and Frank wouldn't let me pay, but said he'd missed me and it was on him. I smiled and thanked him. We had a really good chat, and since there were only two other people in the bar, we got a lot of bases covered. I left at quarter to two. 

I woke up late today but still managed to get to work on time. My neck was still locked up. The bank was all sorts of short staffed and I was actually made to do work. I was pretty pissed about it, but managed to make it through the day without moving my neck too much. I went to my pilates class and got to leave early since I was unable to do the normal movements. I went to my second job and while there, called and set up a doctor's appointment on Thursday morning. I can't wait to get there, I'm in so much pain. 

After work, I was laying down taking a nap when I heard my phone ring. It was a text message notification. I had sent Ryan a text today since I didn't hear from him Sunday and a one time last stand just to say what's up and how he was doing. He wrote me saying his phone went dead on Sunday and he was really sorry. I told him to call, and after a few minutes, he did. I smiled and joked as I talked to him, and I could hear him smiling too. He said he was going to be watching movies and just hanging out tonight. He was in his PJ's. He said he didn't really want to watch any of his DVD's since he'd seen them all already. I offered to come over and bring mine and hang out for a while. I have to be at class at 8AM tomorrow, but I did manage to work in a quick nap again today, so I think I'll be fine. He said he'd have to shower and the place was a wreck. At first he said he just couldn't (I could hear him smiling) but eventually said he was going to straighten up and give me a call back. I'm waiting right now. He's been cleaning for a few minutes and may even be in the shower. If he doesn't call me back, that's the last hair. We'll see how it plays out. 

Maxi-Pregaming

Last night I got back in the game. It wasn't a very classy game, but I was still in it nonetheless. I spoke with Ryan on a cigarette break early on in the day. It's spring break week, so naturally he was home and enjoying the down time (me, on the other hand, slaving away at work). He told me to call him at five after I was off work, so I cut the call short and stepped back inside to finish off the work day. 

I had met a guy in the Gay.com chat room named Scott. Unlike most of the men I talk to, Scott was much closer to my own age. Scott is 21 and he lives in Virginia Beach (30-45 minutes from me). His pictures looked good on Gay.com but upon further investigation via Myspace, I started having doubts. We only chatted one night but had exchanged numbers. He'd been texting me nonstop for days. It was fine and I didn't seem to mind too much--at first. It progressed to where I had a string of over 80 messages in my BlackBerry between the his incoming messages to me and my outgoing ones to him. This shit was out of hand. The idea was that I'd go out to Klub Ambush on Tuesday night and he'd meet me out. I was going to spring the idea on Ryan when I got off work and see if he'd take the bait. After texting Scott some more, I learned that afternoon  that he was only 5'8" which isn't necessarily too bad, but his weight was the deciding factor that made me stop and say, "Wait a minute, this isn't going to be pretty." Scott is 200 lbs. NOT HOT. He has a decent face, but I double checked the photos to confirm that YES, his clothes were hiding something, and a LOT of that something (AKA- LARD). Scott is a great guy, sweet face, deep voice, but I'm not going there. I can't. I won't. I'd already dropped a hint that I may be going to Ambush, so his ears were already perked. Work ended and I rushed home. 

I ate quickly and changed my clothes. Ryan and I had a mission, and though it was only six, we were already in a bind for time. I darted up to Newport News as quickly as my car would allow legally and made it there in record time. Ryan and I smoked a cigarette before leaving his place. Rob asked if we were coming back, and mentioned something about, "You're going to Ambush tonight right?" I was slightly confused.

"Yes but I hadn't mentioned that to Ryan yet," Ryan replied. 

"I didn't say anything to you about Ambush earlier today did I? Because I was going to ask you if you wanted to go tonight!" I was in a haze. The funny thing is that Ryan and I haven't been to Ambush together before ever, and it's quite a long haul, so it was more than a strange coincidence that we both had this idea implanted in our heads on this random Tuesday night. Ryan and I extinguished our glowing cigarette embers and headed out the door, leaving behind Rob to the television and his Playstation 3. 

Ryan and I first ran to Off Broadway Shoes. I had this craving for pointy-toed leather boots, and I wanted them in black. I knew that Off Broadway carried this funky brand named Robert Wayne. Mr. Wayne makes some killer boots and is all about the pointy toes, so I just knew I'd find something there. Ryan and I found nothing. All I saw was a halfway decent pair of khaki colored canvas boots by Robert Wayne and they weren't even both the same size. The pair was on clearance for over sixty dollars STILL and consisted of one size nine boot and one size eight boot. The eight was fine, the nine was too large. It wasn't worth it, so we left, both empty handed. 

Ryan and I walked a couple doors down to T.J. Maxx to see if our luck would somehow magically change. Mine did, I don't know if Ryan's did. At first I had a hard time finding something. There's always so much in discount stores like that, so it requires patience and a watchful eye. I started fishing through the condensed "small" section. For some reason, every one of these stores has less than twenty shirts in size small. I guess the demographic for the area only calls for sizes large to triple XL. I found a heather gray American Eagle tee that looked like Am. Eagle had been scribbled across the front in a large Sharpie and then faded and aged. It had some other distressed stuff on it but it wasn't obnoxiously ad-like. I don't like to advertise labels on tees, so I usually stick to something classic that doesn't pull the focus off my face. Around the time I picked this up, I heard Ryan holler to me from behind. He was fishing through a rack and found a pink tee in my size. "Read this." He pointed to a circular sticker on the bottom of the shirt. 'This is a unique Juicy garment..." It was a one-of-a-kind Juicy Couture tee shirt. I nearly shit twice and died. I snatched it out of his hands, smiling from ear to ear. I looked a little more but to no avail; I'd already found more than what I was looking for. 

We walked to a store or two more in the strip but found nothing, so we left for the mall. I was disappointed in our poor luck with the black pointy boots, but I knew ALDO had something like what I was in need of. We went into ALDO first. I'm a bargain shopper, so I immediately checked the bottom shelf with the marked down shoes. I found a pair of black mock-snake skin leather boots with gold flecks embossed on top of the black snake skin texture. They were about $70 on sale. The gentleman working the store asked if we needed help and also told us that "It's fifty percent off of the yellow ticketed price." Ryan and I looked at each other wide-eyed, our hair nearly standing on end. We both tried on about three pairs before leaving. I left with two boxes, and Ryan with one. I bought a pair of dark dark dark chocolate brown pointy toed boots and the black and gold pointy snake skin boots. They both have a small stacked heel, so I get added height and I LOVE the pointy toes (if you haven't figured that out by now, you're just thick-headed). We hit a couple more stores in the mall, but I was done. Ryan picked up a couple tee shirts before he was ready to get out. 

We went to the ABC store before they closed. Ryan came out with a brown paper bag, what it concealed was a force so strong, it would rock my night. He bought Absolut Pear. We hit Taco Bell up to get a grande combo for Rob and his friend Angie. The guy at the drive through window was extremely attractive and fell under 'fantasy-matial' in my book as he was wearing a uniform and had a great body and matching face. He was thin, with short dark hair and big fake diamonds in both ears. He had facial hair running in a single neat line running across his jawbone. He had dark hair and sparkling green eyes. He made great eye contact when the window opened. Ryan gave me the money for the food from the passenger seat and I passed it over. The guy handed me the change back and started speaking again. He asked if we would stay parked at the first window since the food wasn't ready and he'd motion for us to pull up when it was. His voice was so damn southern it didn't remotely match the white-thug image he seemed to portray. He was a diamond in the rough though for sure. "Do you think he's family, Ryan?" I asked. 

"Definitely. He was hitting on us." Ryan said that when we pulled forward he leaned out the window to look back at us. Strange. 

We then swung by Target to pick up some Sprite to mix with the pear vodka. We headed back to Ryan's. It took two of us to get everything in the house. It was a sight. I'm sure we looked like shopping addicts. Rob immediately smiled sarcastically and asked what the damage was. The attitude was equally matched by Ryan who grew defensive at Ryan's moodiness. Minutes passed and Rob mentioned that Chris had called for Ryan. I heard Rob say something about Chris and I heard my name. I turned and saw him covering his mouth with his hand and he said, "Oops." 

"That was just rude." Ryan was upset.  Rob said something about me and I don't know what it was. Ryan scolded him for not using more tact in his timing. I don't know what was said but I was a little uncomfortable for a while. Ryan and I changed and I slipped on my new boots and my pink Juicy tee shirt. I smoked a cigarette and started working on Ryan's face. Concealer, tinted moisturizer, and he was flawless in all aspects of the word. Ryan put on his new boots, the same as mine but with silver instead of gold. He wore a white tee with a black suit vest on top, and some great dark jeans. I decided it was time to start pregaming. I pulled out the French crystal cocktail classes that I bought for Ryan and Rob for Christmas. They hadn't been used once yet. I pulled off the stickers and went to put the ice cubes in them. There was no ice. The soda was room temperature and so was the vodka. It wasn't a great sign, but Ryan poured the drinks anyway. He said, "You'll need a lot, and I'll need a little." I didn't plan on spending any more money out, so it was up to Ryan and the Absolut Pear to take care of me and do me off early in the evening. The mission was to do a little mini-pregaming and get a good buzz that would last for a while. Ryan's idea of the pregaming quickly extended from  mini-pregaming to MAXI-pregaming. Ryan said he would drive us down to the club and he would take my car. He would pick up Chris since he needed a ride, but I told him Chris would have to find his own ride home because I hate having to round people up at the end of the night to get them home. I had two cocktails at Ryan's house. Ryan told me to get my water bottle out of the car. Ryan mixed my third and final/strongest drink which was to be finished off before arriving to our final destination. 

Ryan and I rocked out in the car to "Out Anthems" from Ultra Records. The CD was nonstop club anthems engineered and mix to every gay man's liking. Ryan and I sang out loud, and I danced in the passenger seat while I nursed my drink. We got to Chris's house and went inside. Ryan had left a bottle of Absolute Pear there, so he mixed me one more drink and topped off the bottle I had. When we got there, I was feeling very nice. It wasn't very busy at all. The three of us found a table off to the side. We smoked cigarettes and talked. I walked around a little bit to give Chris and Ryan a little more privacy to talk.

The history between Chris and Ryan is very strange. It's a twisted story, but I'll do my best to fill you in. Ryan and Chris used to be best friends and roommates. Chris liked Ryan in a strange way. He would say hurtful things and be overall quite nasty to Ryan, but there were always sexual undertones (this is what I have come to understand on my own). There was some sort of jealousy or tension there on Chris's part. Ryan wasn't interested in Chris romantically. Chris was dating this guy Rob. Rob and Chris were living there and so was Ryan. Chris left town for a while with work, and subsequently this left Rob and Ryan in the house together. Chris had been bullying his boyfriend Rob and Ryan had to intervene on several occasions. Chris can be a violent and abusive person at times. I think that he has since calmed down and changed his ways a lot. Rob split from Chris at this point while Chris was still gone. It was pretty impersonal from what I understand. Ryan then started dating Rob. They're still together too, might I add. I know it sounds a little weird. Well, Chris found out about this and came home livid of course. Ryan and Rob moved out and got their own place. Ryan cut off his cell phone, he changed his phone number, and didn't mention to anyone where he was living. At this point in time, I lost contact with Ryan. He would block his number if he happened to call (on rare occasions). Chris tried to hunt them down. He was violently angry and would harass Ryan at his work place. Ryan eventually got in contact with me and I got the new home phone number. Ryan and I reunited and sewed our friendship back together. It was a big loss not having him for those months. He was my single best friend at that time, so I was a little bitter with him for leaving for so long. We were fine and things went back to almost-normal. Things with Chris eventually died down. I am still ignorant on when their rapport improved and they became friends again. So with all that said, this is why I tried to give them a little space to talk. 

I became a little sloppy as my blood alcohol content increased. I became a little friendly with Chris. I normally would have had beef with him. I'd heard the stories and heard what he was capable of, and after knowing this, what he'd done in the past never really settled well with me. Last night I buried the hatched and pretended as if I were meeting him all over again for the first time. We were cordial and I was friendlier than normal thanks to the vodka. I started leaning on Chris. I started rubbing his back as I stumbled from one side of the table to the other (moving from Chris to Ryan and from Ryan back to Chris). Chris was equally friendly. He'd wrap his arms around me from behind, and I kissed him a couple of times. I mean, I KISSED HIM, and not just a peck. Thinking of this now, soberly, my stomach twists and I'm embarrassed that it happened. I'm sure I must have been QUITE a sight. Ryan moved his arms and spilled his rum and diet. The waitress came over and cleaned the bar table off as Ryan apologized profusely throughout the scene. Not even twenty minutes later, I reached across the table for some reason for another, and in a drunken fit of clumsiness, managed to knock over Ryan's glass a SECOND time after it had just been refilled. I went to pick up the ice cubes. Ryan and Chris both warned me to stop at once since the glass hadn't simply fallen over, but I'd managed to break it. I picked up the pieces delicately figuring that I was invincible at this point and no freak accidents would occur. I wouldn't lose a finger, and I wouldn't end up with stitches or even a scrape. Luck WAS on my side fortunately enough. I went to tell the waitress that I'd done it this time. I smiled and apologized. I bought Ryan's next drink. 

We moved to the other side of the bar. Ryan pointed out this guy in a green striped polo sitting at the end of the bar, exclaiming several times how cute he was. I walked over to him after a while just so Ryan would leave it be. I introduced myself. His name was Gary. I stumbled and had to take a step to the left to compensate for my poor footing as I extended my hand to meet his in a traditional American introduction kind of way. I asked a couple questions, he feigned interest. I'm sure I was just too intoxicated to appeal to him, but truth-be-told, I looked damn good. My hair was wind blown and swept gently across my brows. 

Chris had his ride home. I waited for Ryan to finish saying goodbye to everyone he needed to. Ryan too my keys and escorted me back to the car. He started driving back home and then it's a blur. I guess I kinda grayed out, not blacked out. The rain started coming down so hard, we had to slow down to 25 miles per hour on the interstate. It pounded on the roof of the car with such intensity, I expected to see dents all over my car today as if we'd weathered baseball-sized hail. It let up after I prayed. Ryan laughed and told me to pray, and in my drunken state, I still managed to get one good prayer out. I dozed off several times. Ryan was well aware of my state at this point. I tried to hold everything down and make it back. The rain let up and we did manage to make it back to Newport News where it was hardly sprinkling at all. Ryan stopped at a 7 Eleven, refusing to let me carry on without filling me with cheap ready-made food. Ryan came back to the car and woke me up again. I smiled weakly as he passed me the plastic bag, handing me a Dasani bottle of water, a turkey sandwich, and some veggie chips that tasted pretty good. Ryan made me come inside to eat. I finished the food quickly and surprisingly was able to hold my eyes open for the first time in almost an hour. I drank all the water and got into my car. I drove home, ever-vigilant. I pulled into the driveway and made it inside at 3:15AM. I stripped down and fell asleep quickly. 

I woke up early this morning to get ready for work. I had earned myself four lousy hours of sleep last night. I found a bottle of water next to me from who-knows-when and immediately drank the whole thing hoping it would take away my terrible headache. It worked for a few minutes. I grabbed a banana nut bread muffin that my mom had made and ran out the door for work, already ten minutes late. I felt terrible all morning. I painstakingly smoked cigarettes with Nicole even though I was still over-smoked from the night before. My legs felt weak as if they would give out at any moment. I worked in the filing room all morning and managed to leave by 12:15PM. I came home and changed my clothes. I left after one to meet my boss from my second job.

The two of us met up at JCPenney because we were going to SEPHORA inside Penneys.  Bosslady and I talked about makeup and I recited all of the information that I learned in training when I worked for SEPHORA. We picked out a liquid foundation for her but she wanted to see what it looked like when she wore it. Unfortunately the associate assisting us was none other than my boss who was the ultimate reason that I quit. She is this young Puerto Rican girl that is all attitude and is on a power trip 7 days a week. She was promoted to manager after the former one left due to pregnancy complications. Jackie was the PR girl that I had grown to hate. I had been back several times after I quit but had managed to avoid her altogether up until today. Bosslady and I snuck samples out of the drawers where I knew they still were hiding. I tried to be very discreet. Jackie later on approached me and asked me if I'd like a bag for my samples. This is her nonchalant way of being a total raging bitch. She says these things with the utmost stuck-up and serious voice. She's the queen of shooting looks that can bore holes through your soul. This girl is nuts. She started the demonstration, applying the makeup to my boss. She put on the liquid foundation by Cargo. Bosslady (I'll call her BL from here on out) felt like she had some redness still showing. Because of this, Jackie went and got a redness corrector, wiped her slate clear and started over again. This worked out a little better. BL wanted to try out the new Cargo Blu Ray collection of makeup designed for actors and actresses being filmed in high definition. This professional grade makeup turned out pretty good. The blush was a good match and the pressed powder worked out pretty fine too. BL found a lipstick to try but it wasn't what she had expected. Jackie went and grabbed another color. BL hated that too, claiming it was too pink, or it just didn't look right. I know that BL can be pretty tough to handle at times, but she keeps it real, she's honest, and she'll always come through if you help her out. Since BL didn't like the lipstick, she wiped that one off and asked Jackie, "What color do you recommend. You have free reign, pick whatever you think would work." 

Jackie looked at her in a very bored but slightly serious sort of way, started to squint her eyes, and replied, "Well you didn't like the one I just picked out, so what do you want? You want lighter or darker or what?" It didn't really SOUND rude, but it was close enough to it that my blood started boiling. I kept it cool until we left after making Jackie write down everything that she used on BL. She didn't even buy anything, but I'm sure she'll be back tomorrow to get that foundation and the Blu Ray Cargo set. We jumped over to Target after SEPHORA and managed to pick up some skin care items to test out and write about for April. We bummed around there and looked at makeup lines for a bit too. Our last stop for the afternoon was Dunkin Donuts. We grabbed iced coffee and left, not staying inside to drink, but just leaving. We spoke in the parking lot for a while, and I did a lot of reflecting about my relationship with this 42 year old woman that has become my favorite adult diva. She's such an amazing woman; she is an inspiration to all who come in contact with her. I smiled at her one last time before sliding down onto the leather seats of my car, opening the sunroof and rolling down the windows, and turning my key in the ignition and pulling away from her. The sun was shining all day. It was warm on my face. It was 68 degrees all day long but has cooled down this evening. Daylight savings time is on Sunday. I'll be in Manteo down in the outer banks of North Carolina on Saturday and Sunday. I'm ready for a vacation.

The Male Review:

The 200 lb 21 year old Scott in Virginia Beach has been blowing up my phone nonstop. He texts all day and just called. I igged his call purposefully since writing is my sole desire at the moment. I don't plan on returning it either. Instead of being forthright and telling him that his weight will be an issue, I am going to just fade away gracefully. He sent me a message today saying, "Can I call you sexy or sweetie?" I never responded. I don't even want to get into it and have to be ugly about it, because ugly or not, it's not going to sound very nice. He kept asking when we'd be able to meet up. I avoided the issue saying that I work until five, he goes in at four, it's just not looking good. He suggested calling out of work to be able to meet, I said NO. I'm going to just play the 'busy' card until he gets the idea. He asked about Thursday night and if I'd meet him out at the bar; I said I had plans. SCORE! Gained myself a little more time. A few more 'busy' days and he'll bail. 

This guy named Terrell who is 20 I think and lives in Williamsburg has been texting my phone morning and night for close to a week now. I usually don't respond mainly because 

1. I am not attracted to black guys (but somehow I gave him my number thinking we'd be friends)

2. He is young and I'd honestly prefer a more mature man

and finally 3. The bitch works at McDonalds.

He kept on asking when we'd be able to hang out. He wouldn't let it rest. Finally I said "baby doll this isn't going to happen. i work two jobs and go to school full time. i just don't have the time for this right now." He got the idea. I wished him luck and said goodbye. Thank God, that's one down, now to get rid of my big boy. 

I talked to a Jewish man named Lucien who was very nice. He is older, retired very early, and has a good personality. His big drawback is that he carries a little extra weight on him. It is fixable, but I don't know how much weight he's working with. The picture I saw looked pretty decent to me, but even I am very aware of clothes' ability to hide flaws and accentuate assets. I stupidly forgot to save his number after we got off the phone the other night, so I shot him an e-mail asking for the number. No response. Maybe this is a good thing.

That's it. Nothing else. I have my eyes peeled.