So it's been a weird week. And by weird...I mean down-right fucking insane with a dash of stupidity thrown in to complete the mix.
So why was it so weird, down-right fucking insane with a dash of stupidity you ask?
*waits for you to ask*
All right, don't get pushy, I'll explain.
First, with my new promotion at work...
Wait, did I tell you I got promoted at work?
Well, I did. Three weeks ago, I got promoted to Assistant Manager at my hip up-scale restaurant in Palo Alto, California. Before that promotion, I was promoted to Catering Manager as well.
So with this new promotion, I've been working about seventy hours a week. I'm in charge of catering sales, so I spend most of my mornings on the phone, or exchanging emails with potential clients. I drive to their house, we discuss the details and the logistics of how they wish to threw the event and then I coordinate with the rental company for any tables, chairs, cutlery, etc etc. After which, I spend a few hours with the Chef discussing the menu, and after we hammer out the details, I call the client back and get their final approval. This takes up the bulk of my day, nine AM to three PM.
After which, I change from my suit and into my serving clothes, if I'm working in the restaurant that night, and head in to work at PM. Then I work till about eleven or twelve, maybe go out for a drinkie poo before heading home. Once home, I check my mail, reply to all work related messages, perhaps chat for a few online, then hit the sheets to get up around 7am and start the whole damn thing all over again.
Oh yeah, I love it.
I know, you're saying that's not that insane at all, but try doing that for a few months, six days a week and the pressure starts to build. Believe me...I know.
Where was I? That's right, Mark.
Mark and I have the most ridiculous relationship in the history of ridiculous relationships. I know this for a fact because I did research on the Internet and I'm way out in front of even the most bizarre celebrity relationship.
We aren't dating, but we spend so much time together we might as well be. He stays over a few nights a week, we have dinner together, we watch movies together, I spend time with his little sister and mother...but we're not dating.
It's getting a bit more insane but still not there to qualify my opening sentence. I know, be patient, I'm getting there.
Am I the only one that has this most treasured trait?
So last weekend was Pride Weekend here in San Francisco and after weeks of working six days a week and who knows how many hours, factoring in the stress of dealing with my non-relationship with Mark, I was more than ready to blow off a bit of steam. And what better way to "blow" off steam than hanging out in SF with thousands of fellow queers celebrating my culture?
When I was in my early twenties, I was quite the party animal/monster/slut/insane person and if there was one thing I knew how to do back then, it was to have fun. I did all the drugs, I fucked all the boys, and did so many stupid things I sometimes wonder how I survived it all with nothing but a few scars. I might add all those scars are internal, as I'm still beautiful on the outside.
This one time, at band camp...guess that movie reference?
So when I was twenty-two, I lived in Pennsylvania, and spent most of my time in straight bars with straight friends. There were several gay bars there but as none of my friends were gay, I found it was just easier to hang out with them and hit the gay bars after they called it a night. After all, they usually went home around twelve and everyone knows gay boys don't hit the bars till a bit later. It worked out for me.
Anyway, one night in this bar called, Kokomo's a really cool sports bar, I noticed this hot boy sitting across the bar. It didn't take me long to figure out he was gay, so I did what any gay boy would do, I struck up a conversation with him. It was easy, I already had a few drinkie poos and was feeling pretty invincible. I'm sure you've been there before.
Now I've been accused of acting pretty straight most of the time so it was no surprise when the boy, Greg, said something to the effect that I was pretty cool for a straight boy. Knowing most gay boys have a fantasy of seducing straight boys, I decided to act out the part. I know, I'm pretty cool like that.
So I let him believe I was straight, a bit curious but definitely straight. So I pretended to think about it for a long time when he asked if I wanted to go back to his house for one more drinkie poo before shyly agreeing. I remember him being pretty smug as we left the bar and started the ten block trek back to his house.
After leaving Kokomo's, we had to pass by the block that housed the three local gay bars, a block that was nicknamed the Queer Circle, as the gay boys would visit first one bar, then the other, then the other, before heading back to the first one, making a giant circle of prancing gay boys.
Anyway, as we approached Queer Circle, I noticed a car drive by with two older guys, and when they passed us, they slowed down and stared before speeding off. We had made it about half way down the block when that same car passed again, slowing down first. Needless to say, they were very appreciative of the two of us.
I looked at Greg and pointed it out. He laughed and said they thought we were a couple. So I said, "I'm tired of walking, if they come 'round again, let's ask them for a ride."
He looked a bit dubious, but as they came up again, I flagged them down and walked over to the car before he could say anything.
The must of been in their late forties, kind of chubby and completely perverts. They asked what we were doing and I said we were going back to Greg's house to get a drink. They asked where it was, and I pointed up the block and asked if they'd give us ride. They discussed it for a moment, and said sure. Greg and I climbed in the back seat.
The passenger turned around and asked, "How long have you been a couple?"
Greg laughed and said we weren't a couple and that I was straight. The passenger looked disappointed and turned back around. So being the little devil that I am, I grabbed Greg and pulled him into a kiss, pulling him on top of me in the process. As we sat there making out, the passenger turned back around and started watching, I'm pretty sure his hand was in his pants. The driver had moved the mirror and was looking at us more than the road ahead.
The passenger groaned when I opened Greg's pants and started touching him. Greg was shocked but definitely happy and went with the flow, I think he got off on the fact that we were doing this in front of two total strangers, I know I was.
Arriving at Greg's house, the two old men almost begged us to let them come inside and watch. I think Greg might have said yes, but fucking in front of two old pervs wasn't something I wanted to do, so I told them no but thanked them for the ride by burying my face in Greg's crotch.
I'd call this night a weird, down-right fucking insane with a dash of stupidity night. I jumped in a car with two strangers without ever thinking of what could have happened, I was lucky that nothing happened. And I have more stories just like that, but I was living life and never thought of consequences that might happened.
And after all these years, I had thought I put all this stupidity behind me.
But guess what, I had at least one more weird, down-right fucking insane with a dash of stupidity night left in me.
And that happened to be last Friday night.
To Mark's credit, when I informed him of my plans to go to SF to partake in the Pride festivities, he voiced his concerns that in that type of environment, I might slip up and "party" with a bunch of strangers. And to translate the term "party", it means to use cocaine.
I admit it felt nice to have someone care about me, I couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy bunny slippers.
I told him I needed to go out and have some fun, I couldn't handle staying home one more night.
So he countered by inviting me to this house party a friend of his from school was having to celebrate the end of the semester.
Believe me, it was difficult to decide between attending Pride with a boatload of queers or hanging out with a bunch of straight frat boys in their early twenties. The deciding factor was that I would be spending time with Mark, even if I had to pretend we weren't having sex three times a week for the last three months and I probably wouldn't have any fun.
So after work on Friday, after changing at Mark's house, we headed over to this party. Before we walked in the house, Mark said that if I wasn't having any fun, to let him know and we could leave. I thought that was pretty cool, and he didn't even asked me to pretend to be straight.
Who would've thought that at my age I would have a blast at a party loaded with drunk twenty-year-olds? Not me...that's for sure but that's also exactly what happened.
And for being an old man with balding hair, I must admit that more than a few of those college chicks were quite taken with me and one even asked if I wanted to go back to her house for some "fun". I declined of course but it did help my self esteem.
Most of the night, I watched poor Mark dodge this cute little blonde that apparently has been chasing him all year all over campus. If I hadn't a stake in Mark, I would've told him to let the poor girl catch him, she was really cool and completely hysterically funny. But as I do have a stake in Mark, I wanted to kill her or at least push her off the second floor balcony while she was smoking.
I was a bit surprised how awkward and shy Mark was around these girls. When he was chasing me, he didn't seem shy at all, matter of fact, he was pretty blatant about his intentions. But around these girls, he was clumsy and couldn't seem to find his tongue and when he did, something stupid came out of his mouth.
It was rather amusing and for most of the night, it kept me quite entertained. That was before Mark decided to have a bit too much to drink. That's when the real fun started.
Most of you know Mark is a pothead...and he can smoke all day and still function somewhat normally. But give him three or four drinks, and he's all over the place like an idiot. And when Mark gets a bit drunk, he starts to get a bit...touchy to put it mildly.
And around midnight...I was outside on the balcony having a smoke and Mark stumbled out with this stupid grin on his face. I'm not sure if he saw the other people outside or if he just didn't care, but he walks right up to me and puts his hand on my cheek and says, "Hi you."
I smiled and said, "Hi."
"I like you." And then he kisses me, right there in front of everyone.
What was a boy to do? I kissed him back, pulling him in closer to me.
After a few moments, he wraps his arms around my waist and looks at everyone with this stupid grin on his face and says, "I'm gay."
Everyone looked kind of shocked, so I said, "Don't worry, I'm gay too, it's all right."
And just like that, Mark was mine.
We left the party a while later, but not before finding out that no one there really cared, except the blonde chick, she was definitely a bit jealous but who cares, I knew if it came down to it I could take her in a fair fight.
Mark was drunk so I drove home, he didn't want to go back to his house, and I guess I could understand why, so around two or so we ended up back at my apartment.
You might say, that doesn't seem weird, down-right fucking insane with a dash of stupidity kind of night that would warrant my above comment.
But that wasn't the end of the night, oh no, not by a long shot.
The weird part didn't start until we were smack dab in the middle of...err...having some fun in my bed. Mark grabbed my face with both hands, pulled me close and whispered into my lips, "I love you."
And without thinking, I replied, "I love you too."