Friday night.

"What you doing?" I asked my roommate. It's Friday night.

"Nothing."

"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar down the street? I feel like drinking." I said.

"Nah, it's all right. I'm feeling lazy, and I've already took my contacts out."

"Ok. Next time then."

"Are you still gonna go?"

"Yeah. I feel like drinking." My plan was to sit at the bar and drink and people watch. Therefore I didn't really put too much time into getting ready. My hair is half done, I'm wearing glasses, my jacket doesn't match my "Me So Horny" t-shirt and my shoes doesn't match my entire outfit. But I didn't care.

5 minutes later, I was there. I paid the cover charge, went it, and I overheard a man talking to his friends right at the bar.

"When I was 20 to 30, I looked great. I was cute! People complimented me all the time" He said. "Then when I'm 30 something, I don't get so many compliments anymore. And now that I'm 47, (sigh)"

I walked over, placed my hand on his thigh and said, "You're still very cute." He was stunned for a second, but managed to smile as he got his composure back. I smiled back, and walked away.

The bar was full, so I ordered an Absolut cranberry from the only bartender with a shirt on, and proceed to the dance floor, where they are having a who-has-the-best-costumes competition. There's a slutty nurse, a sluttier officer, a huge drag queen, a smaller drag queen and Edward Scissorhand. Of course Edward Sciccorhand won.

"Nice outfit," I said as he walk passed where I was standing.

"You're gorgeous," was his reply.

"Thank you." Karma, I think.

My 1st's gone, the bar's still fully occupied. I decided to hit the dance floor. A few songs later, I saw a cute curly blond dancing right next to me. He has nice moves. Really nice, actually. So nice, that I couldn't help but complimented him.

"YOU HAVE NICE MOVES!" I shouted into his ears.

"THANK YOU. YOU TOO!" was his response. I said thanks and we carried on dancing.

Later, cute curly blond left the dance floor to get a drink. I needed to pee. On my way back to the dance floor, he stopped me.

"WANT A DRINK?"

"WHAT?"

"WANT A DRINKKKKK?!!"

"SURE!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" He has a strong accent.

"ABSOLUT CRANBERRY."

"GOOD."

"THANK YOU."

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"SNAKEHEAD. YOU?"

"PIETR."

"WOW, WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT?"

"POLISH."

"COOL. DID YOU SEE THAT BARTENDER? HIS NIPPLES ARE HUUUUGE!" Really. It's the size of ear plugs.

"WHAT?!"

"THAT BARTENDER. HIS NIPPLES ARE HUUUGE!"

"OH YES THEY ARE."

"LET'S GO SOMEWHERE WE CAN SIT."

"OKAY."

We got our drinks. He ordered a Cosmopolitan. What a fag.

"So you come here often?" I asked as we settle down. We had some insignificant small talks, most of which I don't remember.

"So where do you live?" he asked.

"3 blocks from here."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You wanna come over and we can drink some more?"

He looked at me for a second, and said yes.

I uh...

As I was walking down the hallway, I bumped into the TA that I wanted to see.

"Hey TA, you got a minute?"

"Not now, Snakey. Give me another 10 minutes and come to my office."

"Ok."

"Wait, what does your shirt says?"

I showed him.

"Well congratulations!" I have no idea what that means.

10 minutes later, I was at his office. Before I even settled down...

"So... are you gay?"

"Err.. yeah."

"Oh ok. So that explains the shirt then."

"Yeah. But you usually don't ask people that though."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because they might get offended. I mean I'm not offended or anything, but other people might."

"Then how are you supposed to find out?"

"I don't know. Talk behind their backs. Try to figure it out on your own until they tell you, and then you said 'I knew it!'"

"Well isn't that worse than asking somebody directly?"

"Well, not everybody wants people to know, you know? Like they are still in the closet or something."

"Okay, you are NOT in the closet. If you are, I'm seriously concerned about your concept of a closet."

"You never know. My closet could be huuuuge. I have a lot of shoes."

A special day.

For the first time in 3 years, I feel like wearing underwear.

So I put a pair on, and go to school.

Me and me professor.

Me likey me professor.

Me veli veli likey me professor.

Me professor has accent.

Me thinks me professor has nice ass.

Me thinks this is wrong, but me can't stop.

Mmmm... me likey long time!

If I have a piece of bread, I'll eat half of it. The other half, I'll keep for later.

"Hi."

"Hey Snakey. What's going on?"

"Not much. How's it going?"

"I'm okay. Kinda tired. Been rehearsing all day. Now I'm walking home."

"Don't you live like 6 miles away?"

"Err yeah I think so. About 10 minutes drive. So that's about 5 or 6 miles."

"Damn! You walk that far home every night? That's crazy!"

"Well, not really. It's good exercise though. Plus I hate taking the bus. So this is actually good for me."

"Wow. Anyway, I talked to my friend, and he said he can do it tomorrow night at 6."

"Yeah you know what, Snakey? Let's just have dinner, you know. Just you and me. I thought about it more last night, and I'm really not comfortable with your friend taking pictures. Plus I only have an hour dinner break, so that'll be kinda rush. But we'll have dinner some time, you know. When I got more time and we can sit down and talk. I haven't seen you in what, 6 months? Yeah so I don't want to rush through the dinner, you know?"

"Yeah okay. That's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll let him know."

"Yeah sorry about that. We'll have dinner sometime, you know? When I'm not that busy. So how's school?"

If I have a piece of bread, I'll eat half of it. The other half, I'll give it to you.

Sometimes I wonder.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine, M, asked if I can be his subject in a project he's doing for a journalism class. It sounded simple. All he needs to do is follow me around from time to time, take pictures, and make a story out of it in his portfolio. I thought it would be fun. So I said yes.

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if I know what lies ahead.

So he started taking pictures. And turns out, I'm not that comfortable at all. One night, he insisted of coming over. I was in my pajamas, in my bed watching Grey's Anatomy on ABC, and he's snapping away. No, it was no fun. Then another day, he followed me around from library to computer lab to TA's office. I'm not really complaining though. The pictures came out pretty good.

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if this is it.

M pitched his idea to his professor, showed him the pictures. The professor didn't like them. Why? Because nothing in those pictures show that I'm gay, and the core of his project centers around my being gay. So,

"Hi Snakehead, how's it going?"

"Good. What's up, M?"

"So I showed my professor the pictures. He said they were good, but it doesn't show that you're gay at all."

"Of course. I told you!"

"So I was thinking that maybe you can go out with my friend, O, and I'll basically take pictures of you guys going on a date."

"Are you serious?!"

"Yeah. Well, it doesn't have to be O, you know. You can pick whoever you want. I was thinking maybe a picture of you getting ready, all dressed up and stuff, and then one when he comes pick you up, and then one where you guys are going into a restaurant. And if we can find a car, maybe I'll get one when you guys are getting into the car or something."

"Err... Why don't you pick another subject?"

"It's too late now. I have to turn something in in about a week or two."

"Oh..."

Then something hit me.

"You know what? There's this guy I really wanted to go out with again. Maybe I can ask him if he wants to do it."

"Great. Yeah, go ask him. And then let me know. It's no rush, so you don't have to hurry."

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if I really want it.

I called this guy up, told him the whole story, and asked if he wanted to do it. He seems relunctant, because he doesn't like his pictures taken. Did I mention he's an actor? Did I also mention he just graduated about a year ago, and is "putting his career first" by working 4 jobs? Did I also mention that we went out once, a while ago, and that I like him? Did I also mention that even after he said he's "putting his career first", I still hope that maybe, just maybe I can change his mind, even though he clearly stated that he's only gonna focus his attention on his career, and nothing else?

"I really don't want you to feel like you have to do this, you know? I know you're crazy busy, so just say no if you don't feel like it or if you don't have the time."

"Nah, it's alright. I'll do it. So we'll just go have dinner, right? And you said the pictures are only for him and his professor, right? Yeah, Okay. I'll do it. When does your friend need to do this?"

"I'm not sure. He just asked him and I said I'll get back to him. I guess the biggest question here is when are you available?"

"Yeah that's right. Let me take a look here. Monday to Thursday I got rehearsal at this theatre, Friday night I'm working at that theatre, Saturday I got rehearsal and Sunday I'm volunteering at this place, and my friend is visiting so I want to hang out with her..."

"You really don't have to do this. I know you're really bus..."

"Oh here's one. Wednesday I got a rehearsal from 1 to 6, and then I gotta stay and take notes for the show at 7 until they're done. So I got an hour window, from 6 to 7, on Wednesday, in Berkeley."

"Ok cool. I'll let him know and I'll get back to you tomorrow."

"Sorry Snakey. I'm just super busy all the time. One day I'm gonna take a break from theatre and just go far far away."

"Oh no it's alright. I understand."

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder why.

Whenever someone asks if I have a boyfriend, the answer is no.
Whenever someone asks if I have a girlfriend, the answer is God no.
Whenever someone asks if I have a crush on anybody, the answer after a short pause is no.

One question nobody ever asked, and I never had to answer, is have I ever been in love?

The answer would also be no.

No, I have never been in love.
No, I don't know what it's like.
No, I don't know the feeling of being in love.

But I need to believe. I need to believe that one day, I will look a guy in his eyes, and tell him I love you, and mean it. Every word of it.

And I need hope. I need the hope that one day, I will find him. That's probably the reason why I'm barely hanging onto a string that's on the verge of breaking. I can't let go. I know I should, but I can't.

I mean, hope, is better than no hope, isn't it?

Isn't it?

It isn't, is it?

Sometimes I wonder.....

Enlightment.

I never understand what's so fascinating about gymnasts. I mean, why does every single straight guy I know wants to fuck one?







Now I know.

I totally know.

I so totally know, dude.