Wednesday, April 25, 2007


Seeing as I have nothing better to blog about at the moment, nor any obnoxious run in's with Dennis Quaid's film crew to bitch blog about, I thought I'd delve back into my recent past for a little story, (which happens to be somewhat relevant in light of me having come out to my Mom last week).

Previously I mentioned about how I went on vacation in Mexico last November to spend time with my Mom and my Grandparents, (also time relevant considering my Grandmother's recent passing). I winged my way out to sunny Cabo San Lucas from cold, gray Chicago just a week before this most recent Thanksgiving.

Stepping off the silver jet into the hot glare of the Mexican desert I was struck by amazing scenery and the fact that I haven't felt heat like like that in 6 months, which made me lightheaded (not to mention cursing myself for leaving my sunglasses in my car back home). After being conned into bribing the immigration official $30 (my passport was expired) I found a van that would take to me to the hotel where my Grandparent's timeshare was at.

The 4 us of did the "hello/how are you/so good to see you/etc" thing and I got settled in and downed a Tecate. We had lunch, went to a lame cocktail party, blah, blah. Eventually it was dark and just my Mother, a bottle of tequila, a 12 of Tecate and me. We drank. And talked and drank. After a few hours the question came up that always does, "so are you seeing anyone?/why not?". I gave my standard "aw-shucks/haven't found anyone yet..." response, which at the time was true, I wasn't seeing anyone.

Then she says, "you know, it's OK if you want to be gay". I swear the ocean breeze and the sound of the lapping ocean waves, not to mention my ability to speak all froze simultaneously. "I, uh, I...need another beer, uh, let's do a shot, but lemme piss first" was more or less my response.

NOW, if I could do that scene over again it might have gone something like this:

Mom: "It's OK if you want to be gay".
Me: "What do you mean if I WANT to be gay? It's not like converting to another religion, it's not like going from being a 'Ford' man to being a 'GM''s not like..."
Mom: "Weeeell, if that's your choice..."
Me: "As if I decided, 'well, fuck it, you know it's just too difficult to be a straight man in this country, plus the new rules for the current NFL season make no sense anyways', plus, all the cool hipster boys are doing it, I might get some pussy mileage out of pretending I'm gay".
Mom: "You're drunk".
Me: "I'm on vacation in Mexico, you better believe I'm fucking drunk".

Of course, the conversation did NOT go like that, (perhaps that's a good thing).

But that one phrase, that one word "want" totally threw me off base. Funny thing is I knew the conversation was leading up to her asking me if I was gay, but I didn't expect her to ask me like that, so I avoided the question out of confusion. I blame it all on the tequila and the heat, (mostly).

Over the coarse of the week the 4 of us swam, sunbathed, shopped at Costco, ate overpriced Mexican food at touristy spots and generally behaved as most well to do, white Americans on vacation in Mexico do.

Then I pussied out again.

The last night we were there I finally whined enough to my Mom about coming all the way down to Mexico and not once getting on a boat (I LOVE being on the open water and unlike my brother or dad, I avoided that awful automatic sea sickness gene that runs through most of my family). We booked a Sunset (aka, Booze) Cruise and boarded promptly at 5PM. We sit down, each have a beer poured for us and there he was, Senior.

Senior was dressed in khaki linen pants, a tight green polo shirt and white loafers. Now that description does not do the boy justice, but I assure you he was fine as hell. It felt awkward sitting next to my Mom checking out his perfect skin, his "gawdaaaaamn" ass and his swollen pecs (ok, now I just sound like a 2-bit romance author, oh well). Hot senior was with a female and another male friend. They seemed local and wealthy.

The boat filled up with mostly sun burnt Americans and motored out towards El Arco where those of us that have never seen it before snapped away (sometimes it's fun being a dorky American tourist). We rounded the rock formation and watched the sun slowly go down over the water. In between staring at the breathtaking view I kept looking back over at Senior and nearly every time we locked eyes.

As we made our way back into port (which took at least an hour) the crew started rocking out to Daddy Yankee and some of the braver white peoples started dancing. I was drowning my horny sorrows in another Corona when Senior's Senorita grabbed my hand and asked me to dance. At first I was reluctant, but after some gentle berating from the Captain, I said "well, aight, fuck it" and started dancing with Senorita on the side of the boat.

Next thing I now I feel a THIRD hand on my ass, which, "si" belonged to Senior. He was behind Senorita and all of a sudden the 3 of us were having a three way/dance off. It was obvious they were as drunk as I was and we did this for a few minutes until Senorita disappeared and left me and Senior dancing for the drunk Americans, the Mexican crew...and my Mom. Once I realized the gravity of the situation I said "I'll be right back" in broken Spanish.

I wasn't sure how much my Mom had seen but after sitting down next to her she claims seeing me dance with Senorita for a moment before disappearing into the bathroom. My thought process was momentarily relieved...and then Senior sat down next to me. "Tu is un caliente hombre, como se yama" (sorry, my typing Spanish is obviously not so good). "Justin..." We tried talking but his English was as bad as my Spanish.

We tried talking about meeting up later that night but it wasn't easy, especially for me with my Mom in my right ear asking me what we were talking about (remember it was loud as hell with the music). "Pot Mom, he's trying to sell me pot but it's too expensive". That was honestly easier to tell my Mom at that point than to tell her in my needlessly closeted state that I was trying in vein to arrange a hook up with a local boy in Mexico.

Needless to say the boat docked along with the "just outside of my grasp" Mexican Sexual Adventure. On our way back to the shuttle to the hotel fortress I mentioned I was thinking of taking the bus home an hour later, but she offered (more like stated) she would wait for me, thus my Mom effectively cockblocked me.

As the Ford shuttle bus pulled away from the curb I turned my head and watched the lights of the El Squid Roe recede into the inky distant night where I knew Senior was waiting for me...

1 comment:

doug said...

some parts of your life really do read like a romance novel lol