Thursday, January 31, 2008
Luckily, I've also met some really nice people. For example, I once talked to a chemical engineer who I had a lot in common, so we became friends very quickly. I probably talked for the first time to him about a year ago, and we've kept talking frequently after that. He's 25, and he has a lot more experience in the gay world than I do, so he's the one I always tell my silly adventures , seeking for some kind of advice (Which bars I should go to, tips to approach guys, and how to tune in my gaydar properly...you know, basic stuff every gay man need to know...lol), and that's why I started calling him Gay Sensei. As weird as it sounds, we had never talked about meeting face to face until last week. He was the one who suggested it, but he didn't know if I was willing to have a beer with another guy without caring what other people thought about us (He knows I'm not just too much into the closet, but also a very shy guy).
But I decided I didn't care, and I wanted to meet him. So after I got out of work, we met and went for a couple of beers (which ended up being 6 rounds of beer). It was the funniest night ever. We have soo much in common:
- We're both the size of a stamp , so we shared our sad stories and the trauma of always being the shortest guy everywhere we went (actually, I'm 5'4'', and he's 5'3'', so it made me feel a little bit better to have a friend shorter than me).
- We both have a very dark sense of humor, so we made a competition of the most offensive comments we have ever said to others (I won!).
- He's an engineer, but is really into literature and arts, so I was able to talk to him about how hard it's been for me to choose a career (I still haven't made up my mind between Engineering and Film Making).
I have to say it was a completely innocent gathering, no atraction involved. We talked for about five hours, and I felt like we had been friends forever. And it was great, because he told me a lot of things about his experience when he was coming out of the closet, so it's always nice to meet someone who can give you a different perspective (Will is also just starting to come out, so there's not a lot of experience he can share with me, and well, there wasn't really a lot of talking with Hot Asian Guy, to mention the most recent examples).
It's also nice to realize that internet can be used for meeting really valuable people, and not just creepy freaks ready to hump the first guy they find (not that people who do that bothers me, but I'm just not into that anymore).
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Since I have so much spare time, there has been one thought which has occupied most of my days: There are a lot of young guys, some of them very cute, which I think it's surprising, taking into account I work at a financial corporation. If I think about the circle of around 20 guys I already know there, about 8 of them are very cute, and one of them is just gorgeus (tall, green eyes, amazing body, shoe size, probably over 12...and you know what that means). But what really interests me is: supposedly, 1 out of ten guys is gay, right? So in average, out of the whole bunch, there would have to be at least two gay guys. I suppose I can claim one of those spots, but then, who's the other one?
I studied each guy's behaviors, but my study wasn't conclusive. I shortlisted a couple of them, but there was no evidence to point any of them as guilty of homosexual charges...Gorgeous Guy is the stronger candidate, but it's probably because I want him to be gay...althougn he does have certain attitudes, but it's probably my imagination...Could it be that the 1:10 proportion isn't accurate? How could I possibly fidn it out?
I just hope I start getting more work to do, or in five months, when my internship is over, I'll be an expert in homosexual behavior, but I won't have learnt a thing about credit cards or interest rates.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Me (imagine a drunk voice): uhmmm guys, I want to tell you something, because you're my best frriends, and I carrre about you...I'm gay.
Friend #1: Oh..OK.
Friend #2: Oh, I see. Do you guys want another round?
Me: So you guys are totally OK with that?
Friend #1: I don't really give a shit.
Friend #2: Yeah, me neither. You can do whatever you want with your own ass...haha
I was kind of dissapointed they didn't ake a big deal out of it. I know they wouldn't say something like "It's OK, and you know you can count on us", 'cause it's just not our style to be outspokenly supportive between us...but at least I expected some questions.
Anyway, we kept drinking, got another round of cocktails (I ordered one called Windex, and if you think the name has some resemblance to a brand of sanitizer, it's not a coincidence...its alcohol content must be on the limit of alcohol tolerance for humans). I remember I had drunk over half of the cocktail, and then...a blackout.
The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed at 11:30 am. Except for a headache, I felt fine. I stayed in bed for a minute just trying to remeber what had happened the previous night. So I called my friends to see if they could give me some clues about the previous night:
Me: Dude, what happened last night? I don't remember anything.
Friend#1: Man...last night was a little wild.
Me: What the hell did I do?
Friend #1: Well, after Friend #3 got to the bar, we ordered some more drinks, and...
Me: wait, so Friend #3 finally got there? I don't remember!
So the conversation went on, and what I was able to reconstruct was this:
Friend #3 got to the bar around 11pm. We ordered another round of cocktail, and then we went to another bar and bought a bottle of aguardiente ((Colombia's most famous liquor...like Tequila is in Mexico). After we finished it, we left the bar and took a cab to Friend #3's place, and joined some of his friends, who were drinking aguardiente in a nearby park. My friends say at some point around 3am, I passed out in the grass, while they kept drinking. Then, I stood up quickly and started to...well, throw up (sorry about the detail). I actually have a very blurry memory of Friend #1 holding me as I got out of my system every single thing I had eaten that day.
My friends say we took a cab after that, and headed home (Friend #1 and #2 live like 5 min away from my apartment). They told me than when I got off the taxi, I couldn't stand on my feet, so they actually had to take me to my apartment. They don't really remember how the apartment door was opened, or how I got to my room.
I didn't start feeling the hangover until the afternoon, when A friend called me to go to a gay bar. Just the thought of the smell of alcohol made me sick (I still went to the bar, I just didn't drink anything). In the end, I had a good time that friday night, since it had been a long time since we got together and talk nonsense while slowly killing our brains with alcohol. Plus, they all know I'm gay now, which means I don't have to lie to them anymore. I guess it's good that all of my high school friends are straight...I don't think I would've liked to wake up the next morning with one of them on my side :)
Friday, January 25, 2008
But there are a lot of thrilling things about doing an internship: I'll be making some money, hopefully I'll be in a very demanding environment, and I won't be just the assistant, bringing coffees and photocopies to everyone in the office, and I'll gain a lot of experience I know will be useful for the rest of my career (I just hope my innate clumsyness won't stop me from having a good time at work).
It'll also imply some small sacrifices, like wearing a suit. I like wearing funky clothes, but I'll be working at a financial company, where wearing a tie is mandatory for everyone. So I'll have to replace my American Apparel colorful hoodies and Converse shoes by dark, boring suits and dark, bring and uncomfortable dress shoes. At least I'm trying to get colorful ties to match the suits I bought...
Another sacrifice is that I won't be able to join the Work and Travel program in the U.S. for a third year, since my contract ends mid-july, just one month before starting classes again, less than what any employer requires to hire any foreign employer, I guess. Instead, I'll try to have some real vacations (I mean, traveling just for pleasure, not to work and then traveling on my days off, as I've done the last two summers), hopefully in the U.S., or maybe taking a small trip through Peru and Ecuador, financed with my earnings from the internship.
And the last thing that makes me kinda sad is that I'll be away from my college friends, and college in general. I like my college routine: Going to a class, then going for some coffee and laying down on the grass, just talking to my friends about where are we going to party that night, or how we did in an exam.
I start next week. I'm really nervious, just because I don't know what I'm going to be doing, or who I'm going to be working with...I hope I do OK.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Will and I have been friends for about two and a half years. I had taken some classes with him, but we didn't really hng out or anything. We didn't became friends until we traveled with our friends to the U.S. on summer 2006. He was my roomate when we were working at an amusement park, so I got to know him a lot better while we were there. At first I thought he was gay, based on his addiction to Madonna, and other attitudes he had. But after a while, I totally dismissed the idea: he talked about girls, and he kinda flirted with several of his female coworkers at the park( I actually wrote a post almost two years ago about how straight I thought he was, in spite of the evidence). I mean, we met several cute guys in the U.S., some of them gay, and being my roomate, I would've noticed if something was going on with them, right? Well, I guess I was wrong.
One day, he and and a friend of ours, Cat, suggested to go for some Ice Cream. While we were going there, they were giggling and laughing, and I had no idea what was going on (My friends and I had always thought they had something going on, but we never knew for sure). When we got to the restaurant, we ordered, and they were still laughing. I told them I was upset about not knowing what the hell they were laughing about, so Cat said: "OK, Will has something important to tell you". I looked at him, and he said "I'm gay".
I didn't know what to say. I mean, as a closeted gay, I had to give a straight enough answer, which was weird, since I always get a funny face when one of my friends talks about someone being, And this was by far a bigger deal. So I just looked at him, and improvised:
Me: OK...stop kidding about that or I'm gonna start believing you're actually gay.
Will: You don't believe me? I'm telling you the truth. I'm gay.
Me: Are you serious? (I had to make sure he wasn't kidding)
Will: Yeah, man. Are You upset?
Me: No, not at all. Why should I be?
Will: I don't know...some people freak out. Kat did...
Cat: hahaha yeah, it's true...sorry, Will
Will: You can tell me if you're freaking out, you know?
Me: I'm not freaking out. In fact, I like men too.
I didn't see that coming. I had worked very hard on keeping my straight image in front of my friends, but I just thought it'd be cool to tell him, since he totally understand what it means coming out to anyone...
Will (face of panic): What?????
Cat (Face of panic): What?????
Me: Uhmmm... yeah. What do you think I was doing those nights I didn't stay at the hostel in NYC? I was at a gay bar! (I didn't tell them any of the raunchy details, of course...)
Will: Really? I did the same thing!!
So we spent the next hour eating ice cream and telling each other how we were simultaneously visiting gay bars at NYC, while trying to hide it from each other. It was really funny that we had traveled for two consecutive summers to the U.S., did gay stuff, and neither of us found out about each other's secret activities. I do have to say I never imagined we'd be having that conversation when Cat suggested to go for some ice cream.
Getting Over It
That was over two months ago. And we still can't get over us being gay. I don't know what we talked about before that night, but now, all we talk about is: "So, how many boyfriends have you had?", "Which gay bars have you been to?" "Who else knows?" etc. etc. I mean, I guess curiosity is normal in a case like this, but it's getting a little ridiculous. We are basically acting like two straight guys dealing with a friend being gay: Everytime one of us makes a comment about a guy being hot, the other one makes a "Dude, that's discusting" face, but then says "yeah, he is". I don't know, I guess it's because we met thinking each other was straight, so we are used to him acting that way. Good thing is, I have now someone I can share some things I had never talked about.
Friday, January 18, 2008
When I left Hot Asian Guy's house at 6am, I had a very weird feeling. I felt excited, and even though I didn't sleep at all (yeah!!) I felt incredibly relaxed. When I got to the hostel, my friends were still sleeping. I was able to sleep for about 30 minutes before they woke me up. I had to take like 3 black coffees at breakfast, because now I really felt tired.
Hot Asian Guy told me he wanted to see me again. I didn't have a cell phone, so he gave me a number for me to call him. It was a very long day, we walked a lot, and visited a lot of places. By the end of the day, we decided to go to Rockefeller Center, and later maybe go to a bar or something. When I got there, I could barely move. I felt like a zombie. I told my friends to sit down on the floor while we waited for some other friends to arrive. But I was so tired, I felt asleep and none of my friends was able to wake me up for another hour. We didn't go out that night, and went straight to the hostel.
When I woke up the next day (thursday, only two more days left), my first thought was that I hadn't called Hot Asian Guy. Wihtout any of my friends watching, I left the hostel and went to a payphone. I was excited, and horny. I wanted to go out badly with him again. We decided to meet that night at his place, and then we would go out. That day we did a lot of shopping and sightseeing in Soho (I tried on a thousand coats, and couldn't find a single one that fitted me properly). But the only thing I had in my head, was meeting Hot Asian Guy Again, and going to party again. I felt addicted: to the music, to the people, to the whole idea of having no inhibitions and just having fun. And I wanted to do it one more time.
My friends and I were invited to have a beer in the roof with some people staying at the hostel. There were people from Ukraine, Germany, and New Orleans. It was fun chat, but I snooked out as soon as I could. I had a long night ahead of me.
I took a shower, and went to Hot Asian Guy's house. We went out to the same bar we had gone last night, but this time with a couple of his friends. We had some drinks first, and them I was ready to conquer the world. I even danced with a guy!!!! (Which I had never really done). Then drank more, then danced some more. A lot of making out in between. I didn't want the night to stop, and it kinda didn't: Hot Asian Guy and I left the bar, and went to his place. we were drunk and horny, and we both new it was probablly the last night be would meet. We had to make it worth it.
The next morning, I left his place at about 7am (I was going to leave at 6am, but he thought we'd say goodbye to each other one more time hahahaha I can't believe I just said that). This time, I didn't even tried to run so I could be in the Hostel before my friends noticed my absence. I was still a little drunk, and loving it. When I got to the Hostel, none of my friends was in the lobby, so I thought they were still sleeping. But when I got to my room, my friend Will, who had stayed in the hostel since the night before, was awake talking to a friend on the phone. I told him I had been all night at an old friend's house (I guess I wasn't really lying), and he seemed to buy it.
That day, I just didn't have it together. I went to the Guggenheim, and I just couldn't keep my eyes open. I even almost hit a woman because for a moment I lost my consciousness and kept walking towards her (sooo embarrassing). As the day went by, I gained a little bit more energy, which lasted long enough to go for some last minute shopping and taking a last look at Times Square at midnight. Six hours later, I was on my way back to Colombia.
That was almost six months ago, and I don't think I'm still over it. I have never felt so free, so entertained and so happy as I felt that week (both during the days I spent with my friends, and the nights with Hot Asian Guy. It was that experience, as short as it was, what really pushed me to start coming out in the last semester.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
I traveled to NYC with eight friends (none of which know I'm into guys) Five of us were staying at the New York City Hostel, and the rest were staying with relatives or friends they had in town. I have to say that when we reserved our beds online, we expected a very grim place, full of rats, bugs and maybe being run by a family of serial killers. It actually turned out to be pretty good...It had a funk artsy vibe I liked a lot.
The whole week I tried to satisfy both my foreign tourist side and my gay tourist side. And of course, doing it without my friends knowing. So I would spend each day going with them going to all of the traditional landmarks (Times Square, Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, etc), and then making up some lame excuse to go all the gay places I could find without my friends being suspicious ("You guys walk too slow for me!", or "I forgot my sunglasses at the Hostel!", etc). I also managed to go away partying the first two nights: I waited until they went to their room (we were in separate floors), then quickly took a shower, put on some of my new clothes, and hit the streets. The third night I wanted to go out was a little harder, because Will, one of our friends, decided to check in the hostel for the remaining days of our trip (he didn't like sleeping in the floor of a friend's house in Brooklin), and got a bed in my room...I still ended up leaving the hostel without him noticing it. I used my trips to Chelsea to ask people in stores for recommendations on restaurants and nightclubs (one of the sales clerks at American Apparel was really helpful). That way, I found out about the Food Bar, where I went to calm my hunger and planning my nights.
The first night I went to a nightclub, I felt like a pig in a hunting trip: I had no idea what I was doing. Everything was just shocking for me: groups of guys making out and fondling each other, most of them with very little clothes on (which I found really hot, but still very shocking), dark rooms, it was crazy. The first hour I just walked around, looking at everything that was going on as if I were in a museum: I was really interested, but still looking at it from a distance. I didn't really wanted to dance, since I've always thought dancing by yourself in a nightclub is just plain desperate...so I just hung around the place. Most of the guys were really hot...I felt like a kid in a candy shop, just willing to grab everything I could. Of course, I felt too shy to do that. At some point, I spotted this really hot asian guy standing by the bar. He was probably in his 30's (yes, I have a thing for guys older than me), and you could see he had a really nice body. I was staring at his physique, when he realized I was looking at him. I inmediately turned my head away, making my "I'm so hot and cool no one deserves me" face, so he wouldn't know I was checking him out (I don't really know why, since he was hot and alone, and I was alone as well). When I looked back at him, he was gone. I walked around the place some more, when I saw him again, looking at me. I realized this was the perfect opportunity to start developing my flirting skills with a guy, which I considered non existent. I mean, the worst thing that could happen was that he rejected me and went away, and if he didn't, I could say I managed to have a nice pointless talk with a stranger. So I walked towards him, and somwhow, I managed to nerviously say "Hey".
Of course, at that moment I couldn't have predicted that next day I would be leaving his house at 6am in the morning, running as fast as I could so I could be at the hostel before my friends woke up and realized I hadn't spent the night there.
(To Be continued...)
So after having to pay like $500 on towing and tickets (oh yeah, I got another ticket like two weeks before the accident), I felt like crap. I spent the next to days talking to my insurance company , since I didn't know if it was going to cover the other car's damages, talking to the repair shop, it was hell. So I thought I was having a bad week, but one day after I got out of work, I got to the lockerroom and realized my perfect, $160 sunglasses, which I bought with my first paycheck, were stolen. NOW I could officially say I was having a bad week. That was, until I found out Daft Punk was going to play in Lollapalooza. Since my sunglasses were stolen, I felt like I had no reason to live, but this just gave my life a new meaning. I inmediately made all the arrangements: bought the tickets, asked two days off, and I was ready to go. At first I wanted to stay in a hostel, but I talked to my relatives living in Chicago, and I was kind of forced to stay with them. Which was actually the best thing I could've done. Not only I had a nice, bug free place to sleep, but I also had the luxury of eating 3 times a day, non of which including sandwiches or $1 burgers! (I spent the entire summer without having breakfast because I always woke up late). So now that I had food and bed covered, I could focus on having fun. I spent the first two days on a shopping spree, going to museums, and spending time with my cousins. I spent the afternoon of the second day in Lakeview (by myself of course) , had an amazing dinner at the Chicago Dinner, and just enjoying the cultural diversity of my favorite city.
Next Day was Lollapalooza Day. I woke up really early, put all my new clothes in one giant bag, so I could easily carry it on the bus back home. I had to be at work the next day at noon, so I had to catch the 11pm greyhound bus. My cousins were going to pick me up after the concert and take me directly to the station. Lollapalooza was AMAZING. Honestly, I only bought the ticket to see Daft Punk, but I got to hear some great music (M.I.A., The Polyphoic Spree and G. Love and Special Sauce are a fundamental component in my iTunes library). Even though I was alone, I met some cool people, and had a lot of fun: I sang Linkin Park's In the End at a Motorola karaoke booth, joined a clue contest, flirted with some girls at the G. Love gig, then with a really hot guy at the M.I.A gig, but of course, I ddn't really cared about them. My only purpose was to see the greatest one of all: Daft Punk. I got to the stage like an hour before the show started, so I got a really nice view, (plus I got a really nice view of Perry Farrell kissing one of the guitarists in the mouth, and of course, Farrell's wife amazing ass).
The show was amazing. As a Facebook group says, I've seen the Daft Punk triangle, life will never be the same. It was great to be in this huge party, where everybody was dancing and singing. I didn't care that I had only eaten like two hotdogs and drank like 7 bottles of vitamin water in the entire day, I didn't care that I had to leave the town in two hours, I didn't care about any of the problems I had because of my bad driving. I has happy, because I had worked my ass off to be there, and I just wanted to sing One More Time like there was no tomorrow.
A happy ending, after all
As soon as the show ended, I had to take a 6 hour bus so I could be at work on time. It was saturday, and it was supposed to be really busy. When I got there, it was raining and attendace was low, so they were overstaffed (which totally sucked, since I could've stayed for the second day of Lollapalooza). Everybody was all cranky, but I was just glowing: I had seen my favorite group live, and I had only three more days of work before ending my contract and going to NYC. Plus, finally everything was coming to a happy ending: my insurance company was taking care of all the damages of the other car, mine was being towed to a junkyard, and my tickets were paid.
Saying goodbye to my friends was hard. Crazy Bulgarian Girl has some serious issues, but we ended up becoming really close friends. I guess it's because we understand each other's madness...whatever. I still talk to some of them, and hopefully I'll see them again sometime. But it was time to look at my bright future: Now all I had to do was taking my cheap Northwest plane to New York City, for the final six days of my U.S. trip.
(To be Continued)
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
I started dating guys. Well, actually only one guy I met online. He was kinda cute, so we got together a couple of times to have coffee, and stuff. Then, he asked me out on a dinner date. It was my first date with a guy, you know? It was...OK. We talked a lot, then we went back to his place, and he really wanted us to do things (boy, he could take off his clothes really fast), But I just didn't. So I was driving back to my place, when I realized I was lost. As I was looking around trying to find out the name of the street I was in, I felt something hit REALLY hard the front of my car. Well, actually, it was me the one who hit a car that was parked in the street. It wasn't such a hard hit, but it was precise enough to get my front right wheel get stuck in the frame, so as it tried to spin, it made a horrible sound. Of course, I was still in shock, so I thought the sound was caused by something in the engine that was going to explode, which really freaked me out. Finally, some sort of enlightment hit me, and I turned off the gas. The sound stopped. The owners of the car weren't home, so I waited with one of their neighbors until they got home, so I could say "Surprise, I crashed your car while you were gone!!". Anyway, they were really nice (Of course, making my "vulnerable latino" face helped a lot), they called the police, who put me a $120 or something ticket (he got me in the back of the police car to fill out some paper work...too bad I was alone and didn't have a camera, that would've been a photo I would like to have), called a tow truck to take it home(which costed me $180). Repairing the car costed about $5000 (which is actually 10 times what the car costed in the first place), so that meant we didn't have a car for the remaining three weeks. Which of course, was hell, because then I had to go talking to my insurance and buy groceries in my bike. Not a cool thing to do in a 100 degree weather. Obviously, dealing with my legal / financial problems now was far more important that dating random guys I met online, so I had to say adios to the guy I was dating...whatever.
(To be continued)