I've experienced many 'firsts' this past weekend, many of them good, some of them bad. When it was good, it was really good. When it was bad, it was gut-wrenchingly, nauseating, heart-achingly bad. I’ll leave it to you to guess which ones are good and which are bad.
Note: There are some that are long. Although they can be separate posts, I felt the need to keep them all together. Don't feel obligated to read them all in one sitting.
“Okay, you need to make that smaller.” The first time I put money in a strange man’s g-string. Read more [+/-]
On Friday, after the first time I had dinner with E., a bartender from Townhouse, I went to The Web for the first time on invitation from Crash. This place is toted as NYC’s only Asian dance club, bar and cabaret. What this means, I found out, is that they have go-go dancers.
Being the selectively frugal person I am, I went before they started charging cover (Sorry for running off like that E.!) and was one of five people in there, two of them being the bartenders. I easily struck up a rapport with the bartenders which scored me a much needed free bottle of water.
As the club got busy, no one seemed to be paying gratitude to the performer in the cage working his butts off. Being the generous person that I am (and learning from Slate), I got some singles, went up to the cage and started slipping dollar bills into the go-go dancer’s g-string. Being the only one at the cage, he lowered himself doing a bit of a showy dance, and then started talking to me! We had a pleasant, and flirty, conversation.
He would later find me at the bar after his set and we’d have some more conversation with him suggesting we “hang out when I’m sober.” I guess it wasn’t hard to tell I’d had one too many drinks in me.
Crash and friends showed up soon after. Seeing my rapport with the bartenders and some of the go-go dancers he didn’t believe it was my first time there. I’m social, what can I say. Tease. As the night progressed, I did some teasing of my own, taking my shirt off for the first time in a club… and then some.
“Watch me be a bitch.” The first time I was a vindictive gay bitch. Read more [+/-]
During the night at The Web, there was this guy who decided he’d try to ‘infiltrate’ my dancing circle. No one was interested yet he was still so persistent to the point of being annoying; grabbing randomly at our arms, legs, waist and thighs. Take a hint. You’re not cute, and we don’t want you dry humping our legs.
So before we left, I decided to show him how to really work it. I walked up to the guy he was talking to (at the moment), and pretending to know him, I grabbed him and gave him a hug and kiss and said goodbye. When the annoying guy looked at us and said something to the effect of “hug goodbye?” I pretended I didn’t hear him and walked away. The music was loud.
It feels good to be evil sometimes. Until I found out it was his birthday. That made it all that much sweeter.
“Red means love. Red means pain.” The first time I wrote a love poem in the subway. Read more [+/-]
On the 3 am train ride back home, in my drunken haze, my thoughts started to wander. It finally found its way deep into my psyche where I’ve repressed the love for a guy I could never have. The feelings were so strong that my heart was pierced with pain and I started to cry, and the only way I could stop myself was to divert my feelings into words. I took out my journal and a red pen, and started writing.
I’m drunk, Just so you know about it before you judge me.
How do you define love?
When you put their well being before yours?
Is that love?
When you give them everything you have inside you, is that love?
And when you realize that they can’t love you back, and your heart breaks, and tears start to well up in your eyes, is that love?
Is that love? Or is that loss?
Love is dangerous. And if you don’t be careful, you’ll fall for someone who won’t/can’t love you back – and all you’ll have left is a pen and a piece of paper.
How do you stop yourself from loving someone?
Do you figure out all his “bad” points?
I still fell in love with him. So how do you stop it? Is there a way?
Or is this real? Is this life?
And I’ll reminisce about our time together now, when we went out, when we shared, and live in those feelings, and worry about my loss another day.
I went home and slept, hugging my tear-stained pillow tight.
“Okay, who won?” The first time I tutored 4th graders in math. Read more [+/-]
I woke up at 7:30 am on Saturday, only having 3 hours of sleep from the night before. I was drowsy, but excited I’d get to see my wonderful 4th grade students again! Last year, I volunteered to tutor 4th graders to improve their reading comprehension and hopefully they’ll perform well in a test required by all 4th grade students in January.
Missing the training session the week before didn’t help, neither did being completely hung-over. Luckily my partner was prepared and I just followed her lead. The math program is more informal than the reading program. We sat around playing number games rather than going over standardized testing materials. This, the math counselor said, is to help kids understand the concept and scope of numbers, rather than teaching them a mechanical way to solve problems. Whatever; as long as you let me play with some dice, I’m a happy camper.
“Now hold your knees to your chest. Deep breathing helps.” The first time I spread eagle, completely naked, for a Brazilian. Read more [+/-]
At noon on Saturday, I was to meet my friend A. to start our spa date. I’ve never been a big fan of spending a lot of money for self-pampering. I’m happy with just my can of shaving cream and disposable razor. Coming out of the closet, I figured most gay men must have been to a spa at least once in their lifetime. I had some ground to make up.
So I was excited when A. told me that if I went with her to get a Brazilian wax at J.Sisters, she’d pay for me to get one also. I’m not one to pass up on a free deal, so I agreed. I must admit I was also nervous. I couldn’t tell you if it was more the impending pain or the impending embarrassment of being naked in front of a total stranger being paid to look at your goodies.
Being waxed the first time, I asked the waxer C. to coach me through it. “Wax clean everything? Your privates?” he asked with his accent, making an encompassing gesture around his crotch and ass. I worked up the courage to actually nod and he replied, “You take off everything and lie down, face up, head here.” He then left the area so that I could disrobe.
I did as he had asked and waited lying prone, hoping I didn’t suddenly get excited by the warm light, or the little fan blowing cool air in my direction. Luckily I was still tired from lack of sleep and C. wasn’t really my type.
Upon returning and “checking my body” he bent my legs wide open so the bottom of my feet faced each other and touched. He then mentioned that I was also due for an armpit waxing. That never crossed my mind, but I thought, “I’m here already.” And so began my first experience into the world of waxing. He stripped all the hair armpits then he worked on my crotch, applying wax and stripping it away. After he was satisfied with the front, he told me to hold my knees to my chest while he worked on the bottom and backside.
Fully spread out and vulnerable.
You’ve never lived until you’ve had a Brazilian man apply hot wax to your chocolate starfish only to rip it off with a piece cloth along with all the hairs that were caught in the process.
Not having much body hair to being with, I now have even less. And I have pictures to prove it.
“Your skin is beautiful. Like a woman.” The first time my body was worked on by a woman. Read more [+/-]
After the ‘hair-raising’ experience, A. and I were off to Broadway Spa to relax ourselves with a hot stone massage and facial. I hoped it’d help me to calm down from feeling violated. This will be the first time I got a massage and a facial.
The masseur was a Russian woman who from the first moment laid her hands on me, complimented me on my soft, smooth skin, comparing it to a woman’s. “Thanks,” I muffled to towards the floor trying to flex the area of muscles she was working on.
When she got to my goodies area, I wondered if she would have figured out that I’d just had my ass depilated or if she thought I normally rub baby oil on my ass crack. I didn’t want to find out so I admitted that I had gotten my first Brazilian wax just before. She immediately felt compassion for me, which made me relax even more.
After the relaxing massage (I didn’t get an erection), it was time for the facial. Thinking that being worked on naked was the rule in a spa I lied underneath the towel naked for my facial. That surprised the woman who was giving my facial, as she only needed me to take of my top. I was naked in front of two people already today, what’s a third eh?
Facials hurt. I came out with minimal scarring and a nose like Rudolf. The bright side was that I glowed; that’s what they told me.
“I’m leaving. You want me?” The first time I gave my phone number to a stranger. Read more [+/-]
He really wasn’t that cute, and I’m not that attracted to him. But he was the bartender, and probably the only other ‘openly’ gay person in the club. I was at Capitale in downtown New York City for an Asian party masked as a Tsunami fundraising event.
A little flirting was all that was needed to signify to him I was ‘on his team’, and for the rest of the night, I was quickly served by this tall, black man. Maybe it was the $5 tips I kept leaving for him. Maybe I was bored and wanted someone to flirt with. All I know was that when I was leaving, I took a picture with him and gave him my phone number.
Oh, the party itself was okay. And half of the pictures I was in, I have no recollection of.
“This is real. This is life.” The first time I realized that there’s nothing I can do about it. Read more [+/-]
I watched Garden State again on Sunday morning. It finally hit me that these feelings are real and that I can’t stop them. I shouldn’t stop them. They’re a part of life; and that’s all I have, we have. And I felt those feelings of loss and hopelessness again. The world had turned dark and cold, the wind picked up.
I would later recieve an email from this guy, confirming that my dreams could never happen. That's when I broke down.
As I applied my baby oil to my tender areas before turning in for the night, I wondered if I’ll ever feel so passionately in love as I have before; if this time they’ll love me back.
That night, I dreamed that they had. But it was with the same guy that couldn’t. And violently I was pulled from unconsciousness by a cramp in my right leg the next morning. Damn karma.