Posts Tagged ferry
CK and I had a fun afternoon promoting the circuit party we were attending that evening. When we got back to CK’s apartment, CK, Hip and I relaxed listening to music and chatting before getting ready, however we didn’t have all that much time before we needed to go to Governor’s Island for Matinee.
I watched from the sidelines while CK and Hip played dress up. My work in that arena was done. I had to decide what I was wearing the day before when I packed my bag for the weekend. I witnessed CK try on roughly 30 different permutations of outfits before he finally got every detail just the way he wanted. Meanwhile, I was stressing about how I could make my outfit gay enough so I wouldn’t stand out but normal enough to feel comfortable in my own skin. Hip didn’t have much work to do either. Originally, he wasn’t planning to go, so he pretty much had the clothes on his back with a few embellishments from CK.
I wasn’t thrilled with the shirt I originally chose, and the shirt I got from promoting seemed like it would work out well for me. Apparently, CK had the same thought. We were worried we’d look like twins, but Hip assured us it was cute. After carving up his own t-shirt, he insisted on taking a scissor to mine, but I asked him not to. He surmised that he had better judgment than I did, but I stood my ground. I wanted to go to this thing feeling like myself. I wasn’t going to change that just for some event.
Sure, I was trying to fit in, but I wanted to maintain some level of individuality. Of course, since I was already on edge, this started an unnecessary argument. I was shutting down. He was making me feel even more anxious about the night, and that was the last thing I needed. Things got pretty heated until he realized what was going on. I was going to add a few more cuts in my shirt, but I wasn’t going to wear the strands of fabric he turned his into.
We finally settled on attire and were headed to the bar knowing drinks would be expensive at Matinee. I wasn’t thrilled with POSH, the location choice, as Broadway always called it Poor Old Sad Homos. I didn’t want to hang out with a bunch of creepy old ‘mos, but I’d never been so I didn’t really protest. We had a quick round of drinks before venturing to Governor’s island.
We walked across the island of Manhattan until we found the right subway stop to get us downtown to the ferry. My anxiety was getting to me, and on the way to get cash from the ATM, CK and I had a small breakdown. He pulled me aside to make sure we were cool before we got on the ferry while Hip made himself scarce. He managed to reassure me everything was going to be all right, and we were going to have a great time. I kinda needed that to snap me out of it. I was getting into my head once again, causing all kinds of problems. Sometimes a vivid imagination can be a curse. After that, things were better, and CK and I were actually talking to Hip about how we discussed what a marriage between the two of us might be like, such as the wedding party. Hip was thrilled to hear he would be included in this.
After a quick ferry ride, we were there. We made our way through the line and posed for a picture as we entered the party. When I noticed a Grindr Pride sign, I insisted CK and I snap a picture in front of it. We’d been joking about contacting them to do a testimonial like eHarmony commercials.
This was it. I was making my circuit party debut. As we came around the bend, the festivities came into view. It was a sea of shirtless men. I may sound stupid for saying this (and I wasn’t the only one to think this), but when CK told me it was a “water park,” I was expecting a lot more water. I wasn’t expecting water slides or anything, but I wasn’t expecting the entire party to be on sand and dry land.
The first thing we did was head to the bar to get a drink, and boy did I need it. Of course, as we predicted, the drinks were not cheap. I immediately wished I brought more cash. While I knew there were be an abundance of illicit substances, I wasn’t planning to participate. (I’m probably going to come across like a complete goodie-two-shoes here). I was, however, planning to get pretty hammered to loosen me up. I wasn’t going to be closed-minded, and if I felt comfortable partaking, I would. That being said, I’d never done anything other than pot before, and I was already out of my element. I thought one anxiety-causing experience at a time was plenty.
Alcohol wasn’t going to be the only thing to get me through the night. My friend D supplied me with a lozenge from a medical facility in San Francisco after his last trip there. I didn’t quite have any use for it until that night. I thought it would be the perfect thing to mellow me out. He told me all the hang-ups, but the benefits seriously outweighed any of the possible negative effects.
I unwrapped my lozenge and waited for it to kick in. D told me to suck on half, and save the other half for later, especially since it was my first time, but half way through, I wasn’t feeling a thing. I kept sucking on it until there was nothing left.
In the meantime, I was dancing and trying to have a good time with Hip and CK. We met a lot of new people, including one couple that recently wed. I was thrilled to hear that, as they were the first married gay couple I’d met in person, but I’ll circle back to them later.
While CK and I were dancing, a cute young blond boy came up and started dancing with us. It was plain to see he was feeling some sort of high. CK was facing me, and the boy came up and started dancing up on his backside. I wasn’t thrilled with this, and my heart started pounding out of my chest. I tried to be cool and remain calm. I don’t know why I get so worked up about these things, but it’s like a trigger. CK wanted to open my mind and suggested I get in the center. I would later learn, he thought I might enjoy being the center of attention like that, however I explained to him that was the last thing I wanted. It started off innocent enough, but then the guy began thrusting himself against CK’s backside, and I nearly lost it. I wasn’t going to go off on the kid or anything, however, I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop NOW! I think CK got the hint from my face and gently shuffled the kid away. Minutes later, the kid came up behind me and started dancing against my backside, but I turned around and politely shook my head no and said, “Sorry.” I could see it in his eyes — This kid was in another world.
It was then I knew I was in for a long night. I wasn’t necessarily worried what CK would do. I was more worried what others would do with him. I had a feeling our definitions of what was acceptable differed. I was petrified of witnessing something he thought was innocent, and I thought unacceptable. Everyone was in an altered state, just as I suspected, and I wasn’t exactly from the “anything goes” camp many of the other attendees were a part of. I needed to find a way to calm down, or I was going to drive myself clinically insane…
Starting the final Friday of my vacation, I began talking to a very interesting man on the mainland of Massachusetts. Right off the bat we clicked. Of course, I found him on Grindr, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a man of quality.
I tried my hardest to convince him to visit me. I suggested we grab a drink and/or dinner. We went back-and-forth on the issue, and of course, I ultimately lost. No matter how hard I tried, he would not get on a ferry. Even after offering my bed following his question of where he would sleep, there was no convincing him. I went as far as to pull a shirtless picrture out of my arsenal. No dice.
But that didn’t deter me. We spoke every day of the rest of my trip. I enjoyed his messages. I enjoyed the cat-and-mouse game we played. When the time came to drive home, I turned to him to entertain me for the long car ride. We started messaging each other the second I hopped on that ferry. Had I been in charge of my own transportation, I would have made a detour on the way home, but that wasn’t an option for me.
Instead we took the oppotunity to get to know each other over five-and-a-half hours. I learned about his job as an elementary school principal. I enjoyed picturing him with a myriad of children circling around him. I remembered how much respect I had for my principal growing up. It was fun to picture the little tykes looking up to him. I learned he swam in high school and coached a team as well, but he had to give it up when he left the classroom for the principal’s office.
When we stopped at a gas station, I surprised him by calling for the first time. It was great to hear his voice. He never expected me to pick up the phone and call, but after talking to him for three days, I thought it was time to speak to him instead of just texting. The conversation was short, but it was special.
Once we got back on the road, it was back to texting. Periodically, I would switch back to some of the other guys on Grindr, but I didn’t have much interest in them. They lived in Rhode Island, Connecticut, etc. It was crazy enough I was trying to continue the conversation with someone in northern Massachusetts.
However, I learned one thing when I was working things out with San Francisco from across the U.S. You can find ways to make a long distance relationship work, but certain understandings need to be met. Both parties need to be willing to put in great effort to make it work, and an end game needs to be discussed at some point.
My mainlander continued to point out how ridiculous it was for us to be talking. He was very skeptical of the whole thing. I tried my hardest to get him to open up. I told him, “I’m not thinking about that bridge until I come to it. Right now I’m just enjoying chatting with you. Does it make sense to do this? No. But could it be something special? Only time would tell. But, it’s sure to fail if you don’t give it a chance to even begin.”
With every word, I found myself falling for what I pictured this man to be. I proceeded with caution, but I was also diving in full force to explore the possibilities of where our conversation could go.
When I arrived home, the conversation ended for the day. I was preoccupied with other men, but that doesn’t mean the conversation between us ended at that moment. I liked everything I was discovering thus far, but there was much more digging to be done…Follow @onegayatatime
That time of year finally arrived — The end of summer. It’s always both a sad time and a happy time for me. I am a sun worshiper. I love the beach, and I love a good tan. It means the days get shorter, and the nights get longer, which isn’t necessary a bad thing when you have someone to share those nights with. Of course if you’ve read this blog at all, you know I don’t have that someone. However, it is a happy time for me because it means the annual Martha’s Vineyard trip many of my friends and I take has arrived. We always have a blast, and it’s one of the best crews I’ve ever traveled with. Everyone is mature and responsible, yet they still know how to have fun.
Since things ended with N, I kinda went on a whoring rampage. My time in OCMD was nothing short of scandalous. But, I was having fun. And, why shouldn’t I? I’m a single 27 year-old who is still finding himself in this new gay world. While everyone was having sex in high school and college, I was a good boy. I had my share of awkward hookups with women, but nothing successful enough to blossom into a relationship and rarely something worth revisiting again. Plus, the only way I would get better at sex was practice. So practice away I shall.
We hopped on the ferry to the island, and I fired up Grindr. I was beginning this trip with five other straight friends and ending it with ten. I knew I would crave some stimulation from other like-minded gentleman. Many of my friends were in relationships, some of which were tagging along on the vacation. I didn’t want to always be the third wheel. I made an effort to find someone to maybe sneak off on my own with.
Of course I found a few attractive men right off the bat, but pickings were actually quite slim. Many of the attractive ones happened to be on the mainland. One guy in particular messaged me. He was on the Vineyard covering the President’s vacation and had stayed on longer to cover Hurricane Irene as a photojournalist for CNN. He was staying in Vineyard Haven, where we were pulling into port around 9:00am. He could see my ferry coming in to port from his hotel window. He suggested I come by. I was definitely intrigued since he appeared to be quite an attractive man — Fit and handsome. I was also intrigued because originally he told me he was a CNN journalist in the President’s press corp. I thought it would make for an interesting story for the blog (This thing can be such a bad influence on my decision-making process sometimes!). He was a bit older, but I was on vacation, so my standards could also take a vacation. I explained to him I was just arriving on the island and would need to get settled in. Coming over for a quickie was not a solid option. That didn’t deter him. He certainly was persistent. He was waiting for a ferry, but was unsure which one he would get on due to the cancellations from the hurricane.
We arrived at our house and began unloading the car. We settled in and unpacked. I was originally under the impression we’d be heading directly to the beach, but everyone seemed to be lounging about. I inquired if I would have time to go for a run before we went anywhere. Everyone agreed they weren’t heading anywhere fast. I wasn’t really all that into meeting this guy, but at this point, there was no reason why I couldn’t. Am I proud of this? HELL NO! I was stupid and saw it as a challenge. So, I told the guy I was on my way.
In my haste, I left for the run shirtless. I hate running in a soaking wet t-shirt, so I left it behind. I wasn’t thinking ahead to the part where I would be walking into a hotel without a shirt on soaking wet from a run.
I texted him the whole way, almost getting hit by a car twice. He told me his room number and planned to leave the door ajar. He would be waiting for me in the bed. I was not really comfortable with this. I really felt like a gigolo, only I wasn’t getting paid. I explained my need for a towel when I arrived to help with the sweat from the 1.5 mile run, so he left one hanging on the door knob for me.
When I arrived, I walked right past the front desk straight to the elevator. When I go to the door, I entered the room. He was waiting on the bed for me. I removed my shoes and began to take off my shorts. He pulled me in, and we started to make out. I didn’t realize from his pictures he was quite the redhead. His entire body was freckles. He was my first ginger. Without getting into the details, we had our fun. SAFE fun. When all was said and done, I picked up the towel again and cleaned up as best I could. He couldn’t stop telling me how sexy I was and how great my body was. I don’t embarrass easily, but he was certainly making me start to blush. He told me if he didn’t get on the ferry that night, he would be calling upon me to go on another morning run the following day. I knew this wasn’t going to happen, but I humored him anyway. We exchanged a kiss, and I was back off on my run home.
Of course, the second I left for my run, everyone back at the house began speculating on my reason for leaving. I knew this was going to happen, and I could tell the second I walked back into the yard they had been discussing this. One my friends, a very loyal reader, immediately grilled me on how my run was. I saw right through her intentions, and I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of being right — Until now. I lied. I denied any lewd behavior on my part. I simply told them I was stuck on the other side of the drawbridge and had to wait for it to be lowered again. They bought it, and with that, I went in the house to shower and get ready for the day.
Ironically, later that night we had dinner on the beach in Menemsha. We stayed to watch the sunset and had a blast. We had no cellphone service out there because it is a remote part of the island. When I arrived home, I notice a message from the ginger mentioning seeing me on the beach that night. It was a little creepy knowing he didn’t take a ferry that day and saw me that evening. I was very grateful he didn’t walk up to me and say anything. And, of course, the following morning I had a request for a repeat, but there was no need to revisit that again.
I wasn’t on the island an hour, and I had already gotten myself into trouble. This was certainly going to be an interesting vacation…Follow @onegayatatime