Bacchanal 2006 Post-Mortem: Episode 1

This will be a long post-mortem so I'm dividing it up into various "episodes," (currently at 8)because real life is episodic and not a continuous narrative...at least in my view. Now, I'm going to be honest with you lot, this will not be chronological.

Anyway, on with the show.

Episode #1: European Virgos and American Capricorns

Remember earlier this year where I stated that I was going to stick to Capricorns and Libras for dating purposes? Well, I tried to get this declaration started on the cruise. On the first night, my comrade/roommate & I had dinner with two guys from LA who were travelling together. One of them, A, took a shining to me and it was definitely reciprocated. The reason why? He looked nearly the spitting image of the proverbial one that got away. (For the scant few who know my work, the character of Jim in Midvinter was based on him.) A stared intensely at me and seemed to do his best to keep conversation limited to just us and not the other 4 seated at the table. I understood his rationale, but I still seemed a tad bit "wrong place, wrong time."

A was certainly a piece of work. A Mormon ex-rodeo performer-turned-actor. He seemed to stammer most of the time, which was certainly endearing, but made conversation stilted to say the least. Most interestingly--and perhaps this is a sign of how Mormonism can turn gay men awkward, introverted, and in love with risky behaviour--he wanted me to bareback him. Obviously, I used a condom irrespective of what he said, but I was surprised that in this day and age, that someone would actually claim that he is "allergic to condoms." I think that excuse merits a doctor's note.

A was the first Capricorn. The second one, B, was another awkward one. B was a doctor from New York who works out at my gym and was travelling with his acquaintence, who was a former porn performer and the star of the ship. He told me that he was thinking he'd at least get seconds, but hadn't yielded anything yet. I knew exactly what he meant. One of the more interesting things I have discovered recently is that there is a strong disconnect between how I see myself and how others view me. (More on this later.) B didn't believe me when I told him about how I still see myself as the pimply faced overweight kid, and probably will forevermore. I can't quite say what I felt for B. It was romantic, as much as it shocks me to say so. His awkwardness, his inhibitions, his pragmatism. I wonder if there is more to be written...in the metaphorical sense.

C, however, was a Virgo. An extremely extroverted Hungarian Virgo living in New York. Now, I try not to buy into stereotypes much, but when a man in see-through pants, a white faux-fur muff, and body glitter tells you he's a top...well, you have to wonder "really?" C, I met having a cigarette and a Sweet Vermouth in the cruise's coffee shop. I really just thought he was being friendly until we got to that night's dance ('90s Dance Divas--where they did NOT play "Everybody Everybody"). To make a long story short, buoyed by alcohol and the fact that no gay man can handle bumping and grinding against another man for 3 hours without being aroused, we wound up making out naked in the whirlpool. Two days later, he tried to go the whole way, but I was not that inebriated, so bottoming was not going to happen. (Not that I need to be drunk to bottom, but bottoming is something I like to save for close friends and relationships. It takes months of knowing each other for me to bottom.)

Next time: "You Can't Love Another Without Loving Yourself (so would you please go and jump off this boat now?)"