A while back I was at Books Inc. in San Francisco and I was reading a book review about this Middle Eastern Gay guys life in Egypt. What caught my eye was how much the book reviewer enjoyed reading his book without the typical Western narrative style of analyzing everything to death. That really hit a cord with me because thats exactly how I write, like now. So I kept reading the critiquers review and how refreshing it was for him to read a work that didn't question its impulses or process, it just was.
So thats my goal in my blog writing for now on, I'm done with trying to figure out why some Adele song made me feel like a cooking a cheeseburger at 2:am in the morning.
Last night I felt like hitting the club to relax and to listen to some music. My favorite place to go is Badlands in the Castro. Its always busy on the weekends with tourist and locals alike. I probably saw two cute white guys there.
The first one I saw was getting money out of the ATM. He was cute, he reminded me of the whiteboy rapper - Macklemore. He knew he was cute. He was nice to look at but not nice enough for me to say hi.
The second cute guy of the night I saw was after the club in the late night burrito shop. He was older but definitely looked good. I'm sure he caught me checking him out a few times and then tried to spark up a conversation like, "hmmmm... I wonder what Mexican Coca Cola taste like" ? And then I was all, "Mexican Coca Cola is supposedly made with real sugar and not artificial sugar like American Coca Cola, I hear it has a better taste" .
All the while I was speaking to him, I never looked at him once. Like the typical Native American I am I never made eye contact with him even when he started speaking to me again about Jicama. He saw me get my favorite fresca drink - Horchata and he was all, "thats too bad they don't have Jicama" . And I was all, "I think Jicama is too exotic for this place" , and he said, "no, they have it at another place on Church Street" .
And thats when I realized that if he knew Jicama was then he exactly knew what Mexican Coca Cola taste like and it made me feel even more stupid.
Meanwhile, I was trying to ask the counter ladies for forgiveness because I made them make me a Torta with fresh fajita steak which they obviously did not want to do during bar rush.
There was another cute guy in the Burrito Shop, an older good looking Mexican. He was cute but I got turned off from him when he went to go sit down because he didn't want to eat. He was obviously was trying to avoid over stuffing himself and keep his slender physique.
Thats was when I realized I was happy with being 38 years old and didn't have to worry anymore about assholes trying to fuck me for trying to look skinny and you know what, it felt good.