Saturday Night
Steve had a business dinner to go to, so Nick and I hung out for the night. I lit a fire and Nick rolled the joints and poured the wine. He rolled joints up to the time we were leaving the house to get dvds and food. It had got dark and the air had a chill like winter was close.
We were shit-faced as we walked slowly down the footpath.
“I’m maggoted.”
“It’s better that way,” says Nick.
“Reality is a bitch.”
“I see I have taught you well.”
"Ha, ha. Who taught who?"
We went to the dvd shop and got, what would turn out to be, five crap dvds. But, it was an excuse to smoke dope into the wee small hours and they were cheap.
Then we headed to the Vietnamese take away for food, across the road. I don’t know who chooses their male waiters, but they were both hot. I was so shitfaced by this stage that I pushed my back up against the wall and just propped.
There’s the pretty shaved head boy, who’s all smiley and smooth. But the other one has thick black hair, a nice smile and boysy attitude. And he had a nice bulge where his apron stuck to his jeans, you’ve got to love static. I dreamily gazed at him as he walked backwards and forwards, staring red-eyed, no doubt, at his crotch.
I was the stoned guy in the corner, I didn’t care how long my food took, I was just enjoying watching his crotch walk backwards and forwards. And, you know, on those kinds of occasions, I never think anyone takes any notice what I’m doing, or at what I am looking. I think I have a gunger cloaking device. And then I noticed him looking, out of the corner of my eye. I love that too, so much is communicated in a glance.
Nick said that he was going to get alcohol, but I said it was warm and I didn’t want to go... not because of the weather at all, you understand.
Then cute waiter came out and stood near me, pretending not to look. He was at the desk pretending to be busy. He was hanging around. I decided, after that, that it was eye contact from then on, no staring down. Our eyes met a lot, he tried not to look, but he did. He so got it and I’m sure he was, at least a little, interested. Intrigued, maybe?
Wow, once you go Asian... never Caucasian, isn’t that what they say? I’ve never ogled Vietnamese boy waiters before. But, I’m into Asian boys, they are handsome and exotic, passionate and focused, sweet and smart and usually filthy under that polite exterior.
And I’ve always liked my guys dark.
Asian boys have got a real earthiness about them when it comes to sex, like the Italians, different but the same. I think it’s thousands of years of culture, it has to count for something.
Cute waiter stood by sneaking looks. I looked at him thinking in my head, I want to fuck you, as I held his gaze. He blushed and looked away. He got that, I thought. Is it real? I don’t care when I’m stoned, it takes away my inhibitions somewhat, dissolves some of my natural filters, leaves me staring a stranger in the eyes with a look of lust without a seconds thought. My gaydar is pretty spot on. I don’t know how we know guys are gay, it’s more than just the eyes, it is intuition and instinct.
Nick seemed to be gone an inordinate amount of time. I still don’t know what he was doing. Chatting up the bottle shop guy, Nick only gets turned on by straight boys. [like I don’t]
Then the cute waiter was standing next to me, holding out my prepared order, smiling, at exactly the moment Nick came back with bottles of wine and vodka.
The cute waiter was looking after us, as we left the shop, I saw, as I did the ‘turn around’, as I exited onto the footpath.
All the dvds were crap.
One had subtitles so it was out straight up. Anna Wintour’s story, not nearly as interesting as the Meryl Streep caricature. The Puppetry Of The Penis just creeped me out. Something about Polar Bears. Ben Affleck in tight red leather was probably the worst, the dark cinematography made it hard to see who was up who.
Nick left when Steve rolled in after midnight. The two of them have an undetermined relationship, thus far. Nick’s a bit resentful of Steve taking up my time, not that he’d ever admit it. Steve tries not to impinge on Nick and my time together, as much as a boyfriend should have to. But he doesn’t think Nick is a good influence. He doesn’t say so, but I can tell. They give each other space, a wide birth. There’s a wariness there, but I don’t take it on. They’ll work it out. What I hear are polite questions and answers from the two of them, they both sound so funny speaking that way.
I should go and have dinner one night, at the Vietnamese restaurant on my own. It could be my May Pang moment.
We were shit-faced as we walked slowly down the footpath.
“I’m maggoted.”
“It’s better that way,” says Nick.
“Reality is a bitch.”
“I see I have taught you well.”
"Ha, ha. Who taught who?"
We went to the dvd shop and got, what would turn out to be, five crap dvds. But, it was an excuse to smoke dope into the wee small hours and they were cheap.
Then we headed to the Vietnamese take away for food, across the road. I don’t know who chooses their male waiters, but they were both hot. I was so shitfaced by this stage that I pushed my back up against the wall and just propped.
There’s the pretty shaved head boy, who’s all smiley and smooth. But the other one has thick black hair, a nice smile and boysy attitude. And he had a nice bulge where his apron stuck to his jeans, you’ve got to love static. I dreamily gazed at him as he walked backwards and forwards, staring red-eyed, no doubt, at his crotch.
I was the stoned guy in the corner, I didn’t care how long my food took, I was just enjoying watching his crotch walk backwards and forwards. And, you know, on those kinds of occasions, I never think anyone takes any notice what I’m doing, or at what I am looking. I think I have a gunger cloaking device. And then I noticed him looking, out of the corner of my eye. I love that too, so much is communicated in a glance.
Nick said that he was going to get alcohol, but I said it was warm and I didn’t want to go... not because of the weather at all, you understand.
Then cute waiter came out and stood near me, pretending not to look. He was at the desk pretending to be busy. He was hanging around. I decided, after that, that it was eye contact from then on, no staring down. Our eyes met a lot, he tried not to look, but he did. He so got it and I’m sure he was, at least a little, interested. Intrigued, maybe?
Wow, once you go Asian... never Caucasian, isn’t that what they say? I’ve never ogled Vietnamese boy waiters before. But, I’m into Asian boys, they are handsome and exotic, passionate and focused, sweet and smart and usually filthy under that polite exterior.
And I’ve always liked my guys dark.
Asian boys have got a real earthiness about them when it comes to sex, like the Italians, different but the same. I think it’s thousands of years of culture, it has to count for something.
Cute waiter stood by sneaking looks. I looked at him thinking in my head, I want to fuck you, as I held his gaze. He blushed and looked away. He got that, I thought. Is it real? I don’t care when I’m stoned, it takes away my inhibitions somewhat, dissolves some of my natural filters, leaves me staring a stranger in the eyes with a look of lust without a seconds thought. My gaydar is pretty spot on. I don’t know how we know guys are gay, it’s more than just the eyes, it is intuition and instinct.
Nick seemed to be gone an inordinate amount of time. I still don’t know what he was doing. Chatting up the bottle shop guy, Nick only gets turned on by straight boys. [like I don’t]
Then the cute waiter was standing next to me, holding out my prepared order, smiling, at exactly the moment Nick came back with bottles of wine and vodka.
The cute waiter was looking after us, as we left the shop, I saw, as I did the ‘turn around’, as I exited onto the footpath.
All the dvds were crap.
One had subtitles so it was out straight up. Anna Wintour’s story, not nearly as interesting as the Meryl Streep caricature. The Puppetry Of The Penis just creeped me out. Something about Polar Bears. Ben Affleck in tight red leather was probably the worst, the dark cinematography made it hard to see who was up who.
Nick left when Steve rolled in after midnight. The two of them have an undetermined relationship, thus far. Nick’s a bit resentful of Steve taking up my time, not that he’d ever admit it. Steve tries not to impinge on Nick and my time together, as much as a boyfriend should have to. But he doesn’t think Nick is a good influence. He doesn’t say so, but I can tell. They give each other space, a wide birth. There’s a wariness there, but I don’t take it on. They’ll work it out. What I hear are polite questions and answers from the two of them, they both sound so funny speaking that way.
I should go and have dinner one night, at the Vietnamese restaurant on my own. It could be my May Pang moment.
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