No word back from my Mexican. But that’s OK. He’s probably just a tad flakey as so many homos tend to become. Frankly, I’m on the edge of misbehaving tangling with him in any form. What exactly do I want him to do? I’m not sure but I’m sure Scrappy Doo (TC) would be on the ceiling growling like a junk yard dog if he so much as suspected this interaction had happened. So I move on.
I’m not sure what Eduardo wanted or why he lingered for so long to chat. But you know what? It doesn’t matter, he won’t step up to the table and play. He may well be chuckling to himself how he played me or my best guess, being homo and all, he got himself wound around the axle on what he should do, what it would mean, how it would be perceived, how this would affect anything else happening in his universe, or it could be as simple as he was a tad tipsy and looking for a hookup and I was a known quantity. Who the hell knows?
The fact is I was open and honest with Eduardo. Was it too much too soon with too much intensity? Probably. I simply don’t have enough cycles left to try to constantly compute all these angles. I’m working on simplifying my life not adding to it’s complexity.
Now comes the bomb. I am packing up to move to Australia for an initial 6 week stint. Sydney. Home of emotionless white boys with hard bodies and crispy Asian snackie treats looking to be sub-slaves to silver foxes such as myself. Single in the City is there, waiting for me to arrive and offering all sorts of helpful advice. Plus indicating a willingness to show me around to all the wrong places.
Sadly, Scrappy Doo is coming with. Big fucking surprise that is. Total downer. I’m trying to get him to delay coming to Sydney which should allow me enough time to scout the surroundings, sample the merchandise and get Single in the City married off to someone nice. More to follow.