Wednesday, November 15, 2006

The rest of the story...

So Philadelphia is much more that crappy churches.

John lives there, which is why I go to visit every few months. John rocks. He's kinky but oddly averse to all things leather. I don't even think he likes me to wear it, though gawd knows that doesn't stop me.

John and I met on AOL ages ago...I guess it was...what? 2002? That doesn't seem long enough ago. Maybe 2001. (It's a good thing I'm writing this journal, I've forgotten most of my life at this point and more slides down the drain every day.) We used to have long involved chats while we were both at work. Eventually I flew from KC to Philly to visit him and we got along very well. It was just good fortune that landed me so close to Philly. With my visits with Justin and Scott becoming less and less frequent (hell, Justin never has come to NYC) John really qualifies as my oldest friend who I see regularly.

John has the most adorable little house in Center City. It must have been built 200 years ago or something. Benjamin Franklin's best blow buddy up the block probably lived there when they were kids. It's three stories tall but still not much bigger square footage-wise than a two-bedroom apartment. The stairs are steep and treaturous; people were tiny back then! He lives right in the middle of the gayborhood, and for all that NYC is pretty much gay all over, I'm a tad jealous. He has a very friendly feeling neighborhood gay bar and restaurant only two blocks away which I really like. In Hell's Kitchen we have gay bars and gay restaurants, but rarely do the two meet. This one is very traditional-looking, dark, and very comfortable. I'd go there all the time if it was in my 'hood.

But John has been making new friends lately, and they're pretty damn cool, as evidenced by the fact that they like to hang out in this very sleazy dive bar called The Post. The Post has strippers wandering giving lap dances and such. The Post allows smoking indoors even though it's been outlawed in Philly. The Post is low-ceilinged, dark, and vaguely dank, which makes it right up my alley.

Anyhow, so we're sitting in the bar, and I'm looking cute and charming all of John's friends, when in walks this hunk of man. The arms on this guy! You should have seen him. And his face was quite charming as well, in a sortof-innocent kind of way. Like real innocence, not the fake BS that boys in Chelsea think they fool everyone with. I mean he looked like he'd never said a bitchy word about anyone, and like maybe despite the fact that he was gorgeous he might not have an attitude, and he'd talk with normal people without condescending. In other words, he looked like a real person who was confident enough in himself not to have to raise himself above others in order to get through the night smiling. That's so fucking sexy on a man. We're talking instant wood here.

So I made eyes at him. Shamelessly. And I really didn't think it was working. I mean, let's face it, I'm not exactly at my most confident with the muscle guys. Everybody likes muscles, it seems, and everybody wants them, and they generally want nothing to do with scrawny boys like me. So I'm not getting my hopes up. And pretty soon I just gave up, or got distracted, or otherwise lost track of him.

Later, after we'd wandered into a darker and danker back room, John pushed me. Right into Mr. Sexy! I was a little tipsy, but I wouldn't have stumbled this badly on my own, I swear. I didn't mind though, because he let me buy him a drink. And that was all the excuse I needed to start blathering about my crazy life! Only it didn't seem to scare him away. Which was odd but pleasant.

Anyhow, long story short (yeah, right) we closed the bar down and as we were leaving he asked me to hang out more with him. Gawd, I wanted to. And I'm not normally that kind of girl...mostly because I like to plan ahead for these things, for a variety of reasons. But I totally wanted to go. And then we got to talking about it, and John had no extra key to his place, and he was definitely falling straight asleep, and how well did I know Mr. Stud, what if I needed to get back to John's before morning? Plus I was there to visit John for the weekend. So, after vascillating drunkenly in the street, I finally had to decline. It's just good policy not to push these things.

I got his card though! Hooray!

So that was Philly...I managed to get up for church the next morning, as you can see below. John and I had a relaxing afternoon together and saw an IMAX movie. Overall, a very nice weekend, and a welcome break from the crazy city.

1 comment:

MidAtlantic Transfer said...

I'm glad you and Mr McPhilly didn't hook up on the same night you met. Maybe that will change things in the future. I expect to be kept informed.