Went to Bowery Bar last night. Had a couple of drinks. Bumped into Galen? Cute, 23, model-actor with perfect abs. He asked for my number a few days ago, but never called. I looked at his face as he walked over to my table (is he embarrassed?) He said hello, and something about how hot it was, then left. I Looked around. Talked to Kim. Had one more beer before heading home. Another night. Nothing to write about.
People don’t read anymore. Not only that, they're not afraid to admit it. Sometimes I like to ask just to see what they'll say:
"So, what are you reading these days?"
"I'm not much of a reader. I'm more of a TV kind-of-guy."
"Ummm... Check please?"
I actually went on a date the other day and the guy proudly announced he read six (!) books last year. You should have seen the look on his face when he said it, like he just got into Mensa.
Book I’m reading now: The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles
Last book I read: Specimen Days by Michael Cunningham
Bought this week: 1776 by David McCullough
Favorite book of all times: Love In the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Runner up: The Hours by Michael Cunningham
Ughh...
I’m getting the sense that God is gay. I think he’s up there masturbating to the image of Richard Gere in
American Gigolo. He knows the words to every musical, and a poster of Bette Midler is hanging from his bedroom wall.
Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t slept since yesterday morning, maybe it’s the aftermath of debauchery kicking in. But I’m convinced God likes a big fat dick.
I spent 13 hours dancing, feeling the base reverberating through my body like an echo. I watched as a sea of half naked demigods became one, connected through music, synchronized by ecstasy. And at the end of the night, as fireworks lit the sky, I could see their faces reflect a rainbow of colors, like a queer moon. I’d like to think there was something of the divine in it. Or maybe not.
The bells are about to ring. The gay winds of Pride will carry the sound throughout the city, and 10,000 men will migrate westward, like rats following the Pied Piper.
Sweaty backs, black pupils, music blasting on bronzed shoulders, a drag queen with runny make up, twinks making out (which one’s which?) an ex-lover, a broken heart, his new boyfriend, a woman with saggy breasts. Eyes rolling, bottled water, a pill, a bump, a swirl, a moment. The sky blue, the air, stale. It is the power of God and the universe. A moment of complete spirituality. What’s after death? Am I God? Lights bright, no city. Abercrombie, dizzy spell, a kiss? Who was that? A moment of silence, a feeling of breeze, the tip of my fingers, a smile, a nipple, and my hard cock.
Yes. I’m ready for the dance.
It’s Pride weekend. Boys are out, gyms are full, and anyone who is anyone is throwing a party. Is it just me? or are gay men getting uglier these days? Every party, same tired faces. And the new boys, well lets just say they make Aaron Carter look manly. Just went to a party on some rooftop in Chelsea. Ninety-degree weather and there was nothing hot about it.
Bumped into Mike, a beautiful 32-year old man with the bluest eyes. Went on a date with him a year ago or so. I thought at the time, wow, this guy’s got his shit together. I like him.
The date was kind of fun. I came over to his place (very Architectural Digest), we ordered some steaks from Foodbar and watched “Angels in America.”
I do remember at one point I was about to bite into my food when a drop of the Au Poive sauce landed on his carpet. I looked to the side to see if he noticed, his face was on the TV screen. Dodged a bullet? I covered the stain with my foot until it got late and I headed home.
I never heard from him again. A good six months later I was introduced to someone who turned out to be a good friend of his. When I told him my name, the first thing he said was, “Oh, you’re the stain on the carpet guy!”
I guess now I know why he never called back.
Hmmm… so this is blogging. Stupid word if you ask me. I think more people would actually blog if they weren’t freaked out by the word. I don’t know, sounds dorky.
“Hey Harvey, did you blog today?”
“Why yes Tim, I did, it was lovely. I blogged all day and then all afternoon. All in all, a good blogging day for me.”
Sounds like those kids no one looked for when they played hide and seek.
Anyway, had a weird night and an even weirder morning. I bumped into this guy I met a couple of years ago, hot. I hadn't seen him since, and last night when he saw me he said, "It's me...Ben. And what do I say? The first thing out my mouth?
“Ben Elliott?”
Nggggg…Wrong answer buddy.
Sometimes the right answer (his name is in fact Ben Elliott) is the wrongest one.
Don't know about you, but letting someone know that you like them enough to remember their last name after two years, that's just about the dumbest move.
Right answer: “Hmmm… sorry bud can’t remember.”
Another option: “Where did we meet again?”
Nope. Not one of these simple lines came to mind, what happily flew out of my mouth were his first and last name… and my game.
The way I see it: always keep their egos in shambles. Keep your cards close to your chest and never let them know (not even after they slip a perfect diamond on your finger) just how much you like them.
Anyway, spent a few minutes with Ben at Shag (and oh, how much I wanted to shag him). He's cute, he's got dimples, and a real J-O-B. Rare breed (men are like parking spaces: all the good ones are taken and all the rest are handicapped).
Ben was friendly and tired. I was horny and drunk and my other friend Josh was horny and tired. After a couple of drinks we headed over to Josh’s place to drink some more and… I don’t remember much after that (I only have a couple of blurry snapshots floating in my head). I woke up this morning with nothing on but my T-shirt (ha?) and a blinding hangover. I’m not exactly sure what happened, although I’m pretty sure I did not have sex. There were however lips, I remember lips… and a semi hard dick in my mouth. But that’s it. My guess, I fooled around with Josh for a few minutes before passing out.
Now the question, how long before Ben deletes my number from his cell phone?
