Standing on platform now in Utrecht, The Netherlands, last high speed train to Germany is approaching. I’m thinking what are the odds that “my” train guy is working on this particular run tonight. No, can’t be, that would be too much. But I start imagining, if he were onboard, what would I say?
The first class coaches silently glide by me and I dash up the platform, it’s a short train, only 2 first class cars. The hussle of passengers boarding/departing is underway, I approach the to board. He’s standing there, look every bit as cute as I can remember. I wave, smile, he waves, smiles, I begin to shake, it’s almost sureal.
I get my luggage on board, he immediately comes back, a warm greeting, “come with me, I have a special place for you”. We go to the very front of the train, few people are sitting here. I tell him that I’ve been thinking about him and missed him. His smile answers all my questions. I’m still shaking.
I’m going to Cologne, his trip ends in Cologne. How nice. During the 2 hour trip, he spends most of the time sitting next to me talking. His name is Alexander. We’re speaking in the familiar tense of the German language. Meanwhile I’ve decided to start drinking champagne. He’s very nice, I like him. A female colleague also chats with me exclaiming how sweet and thoughtful he is.
Train arriving, Alexander has disappeared. Well I’m used to this by now. I exit the train and make my way to the exit. Looking up Alexander is standing by the exit obviously waiting for me. My spirits lift. I tell him I’d like to see him. He explains he lives 1 hour away by yet another train, has his father waiting to pick him up and that it was nice to have met me. He quickly writes his cell number down, a twinkle in his eye, he touches my face and disappears into the crowd.
What was I expecting? Have him to go home with me? It was unreasonable, he doesn’t live in Cologne (he’d even told me that in our first meeting). I sent a nice text message, no reply. What would be the point, but he was still nice and what a random event to see him twice. I trug out of the train station in search of my hotel.
The story doesn’t end here, it’s just beginning.
I need to rewind. Last Sunday, waiting for my luggage at the Duesseldorf Airport, jet lagged as I was, I noted a smoking hot guy waiting for his luggage. He was a spitting image of Kenny with a mix of Eduardo. Early 20’s, jet black hair, milk chocolate skins, big almond eyes, medium height, leggy body. OMG – I must have stared at him for 15 minutes.
Back to the present, I’m f*cking lost, can’t find hotel, I’m on foot. Walking down the street I’m quickly passed by a medium height guy. The jet black hair, exotic features, jesus, it’s him again. I call out. He turns around. Clearly doesn’t know or recognize me. I tell him we’d seen each other at the airport, yes he was there, but he doesn’t remember me. He’s Canadian and visiting the city similar to me. A minute later he moves on down the street. What a coincidence, two times in a day, 2 different people.
At my hotel, I’m almost resigned to going to bed, it’s 10 p.m. F*ck it, I’m gonna go check out the gay scene. A quick shower, I make a map and hit the streets. There are 40 bars, I walking quickly, places either empty, leather bound or older crowd. I find the section with a younger crowd. Couple of places remind me of JRs back in Washington. Do I have to go in? I’m tired. I’m a big pussy.
I have to something, right? I spy IXBAR, gleaming neon. It’s a high end place, reminds me of Halo, crowd looks nicely dressed. OK – I’m going in. It’s a smallish place and it’s crowded. I make my way to the bar and turn. NO NO NO NO – it’s my black hair exotic beauty from outside the train station. His name is Chris too. Up close, he reminds me of Eduardo, soft brown eyes, flowing hair. His family is from Guyana (f*ck me – South America, no no no – this can’t be happening.
next posting to hear the rest of the story …