It’s midday in Hong Kong, but it’s nearing 3 a.m. in the morning on the US East Coast and there, there in some seedy gangster Caribbean sleaze bar in Brampton, Ontario surrounding by a bunch of hipster wanna be thugs and their equally sleazy trashy bitches is my Scrappy. Caribbeans will kill an homo in a nanosecond (you boys takenotice of this when planning your Caribbean cruise, my recommendation – don’t). Scrappy is under watch of his 15 cousins who know he’s gay, but he’s part of their clan and due family protection. Scrappy is also trashed, drunk, slurred speech and unfortunately he is calling me every 10 minutes with something. This is what I have on my hands.
I went out last night for a single drink. One. Only one and in the midst of it Scrappy, sensing a disturbance in the force, called me. I stepped out of the bar to take the call away from the music. As I was exiting, a young Asian guy walked out as well with me. He stopped outside. Scrappy is interrogating me about what I’m doing, why and with whom. I said I was standing outside on the phone and some unknown guy was standing nearby. What guy? Why was he standing there, he demanded to know? How the fuck should I know.
We ended the call with his snorting, satisfied I was only mildly violating his rules. The Asian guy, mid-20’s, very well dressed, preppy pressed expensive clothes, educated look, smiled at me and extended his hand. “I just want to introduce myself to you”, he offered. What am I the fucking the President of the United States? He smiled, my name is … very nice to meet you. I was dumbfounded. I smiled, shook his hand. He seemed happy. I certainly was.
I went home and immediately called Prof. Tim. “Tim, did I die in an automobile accident? You can tell me? Cause if I did, I just want to tell you this heaven thing is pretty good. It’s so good I recommend you go out and get in a car accident yourself tonight so you can join me here”. He chuckled.
My reader comments are appreciated. I’ve got a snarling brown mop of a partner who loves me with every ounce of his power and I should count my blessings. It is clear that there are many sincere Asian guys, who truly would like to find love, a real partner, someone educated, nice, not bitchy, queeny, minus the attitude, uncomplicated, lacking that “I’ve been fucked in the ass” homo voice, gaggle of judgy homo friends. I look in the mirror and quickly conclude, “I certainly wouldn’t do me”, but hey if they see great value in me, it’s all about marketing right?
Prof. Tim thinks Scrappy and I have a dysfunctional relationship (course I dare not ask about his own relationship – gays forget my new rule, judge not that you not be judged). But as those who have read this blog, no relationship is always headed up and to the right, it’s a daily journey, a daily rite and effort to keep alive and nutured. I’m cool with that.