Remembering the Party

I went to Remember The Party last night, which is a bit of irony, since I was eleven when the real party was going on, so I have no personal memories of it. Not that I didn't know I was gay at the time. Anyway, it was excellent diversion, although it was All Bears All The Time Night. I was sort of looking forward to spending a night with regular gays and women and all that, but somehow the bears conspired to take the entire thing over. I briefly did the bump with a woman just to show them.

You could tell who was high, and who wasn't, because the non-stoned guys kept scanning the crowd, scanning the crowd, while the high people just raised their arms and had their closed-eyed diva moments. One guy thought he was on the Love Boat. I remember that party.

I had fun despite being seriously underdressed, as I wore only two socks, and neither of them were stuffed in my pants. We stopped remembering the party early, at 1am, and left because we didn't want to see if the show crashed like a Mexican ferris wheel later on, which would have killed our gay-positive buzz.

A New Game

I play a new game. I call it "You Will Look Me In The Eyes, Motherfuck". I started playing it when I found that there are a lot of guys who won't look me in the eyes, because doing so automatically equals wanting to have sex with me, and they don't ever, ever want to convey that message, so they look at the ceiling, or the floor, or anywhere else I'm not. They look at the not-me place with great interest, and continue scrutinizing it until either I go away or they run into something.

The rules are that I have to keep my distance, but I get to stare openly at them with a big grin on my face, and dodge and weave around until they are forced by the utter ridiculousness of our behavior to look at me with sighing Gwyneth Paltrow resignation, at which point I win. If they never look at me and manage to escape, it's a draw. But that never happens because I can get pretty fucking ridiculous when I'm feeling it.

I've also found that average or "non-classically-hot" guys pursue this game with greater sweaty desperation, because I'm playing in their league, and to them that means sex is an actual possibility, which totally fucks with their expectations for the evening, and makes them all puckery.

Last night was ripe for YWLMITEM. I played with:

Two Colt Models: Lots of Colt models age well. These two aren't.

The Perfect Bear Love-Couple: This couple did not understand that there is no porking on the dance floor, and kept making out in the middle of it, so we could all see how very, very In Love they were. GOD they were in love. And then they took off their shirts because their combined passion was too hot for them to have shirts on anymore. So great was their love.

The Crixovan Juggernaut: A weird, lumpy, neckless guy who never gets laid, so he sublimates his libido by rudely bulldozing his way through crowds because it makes him feel all huge and shit. The type of behavior you'd expect from someone five foot five, and shaped like a wart. I've seen him at other clubs, and it's always the same: head down, and chug chug chug. Never stops moving. He bulled into me no fewer than four times, but wouldn't look at me when I glared down at him.

Having A Charo Moment: This guy kept beating his chest and then raising his fists and doing the Charo "Cuchi! Cuchi!" thing. Swear to God.

The BMB Corner: About seventeen guys. I played the game with them all at once. They looked like a U2 album cover, each looking off in different directions, but not at me, their camera.

Oh God

Okay, normally I wouldn't do this, but it's doubly relevant to recent conversation.

And people wonder why I dislike this guy so much.

Hurry, before he deletes it.