S. S. Drama–all aboard!
Holla Scholar (Allen) came and went in the blink of an eye this past weekend. We started things out Thursday evening. After a few “Matrix”-styled moves to avoid the kamikaze-minded pigeons, we made it to the Muni on down to the Castro. Coming up out of the station, Allen had a bittersweet pang of nostalgia for good old Santa Francisca: the omnipresent fags, the homeless selling their “wares” on the street, etc.
We ate at Askew (marinated tofu on the citrus cous cous—mm!) before segueing to The Mix for after dinner cocktails. En route, I informed Allen that should we run into Sean (my ex) and/or Darryl (his new boyfriend and friend of Allen’s) that I would have to purge myself of the situation. Not out of any particular dislike for either of them, just out of social comfort’s sake, you might say. I don’t have anything against them, but I don’t got anything for ‘em either.
So of course, Darryl has to show up right on our fourth vodka straight up, thereby souring the situation. He ran into Allen as he’d gone back to the bar to get refreshers for us (which now included Taj who’d joined us at the bar) and was apparently desperate to talk to me. Thankfully, Allen kept him at bay as I adroitly ushered desired company exit-wise, escaping with a mere, “Byyye, Jooosh…” from Darryl as he hugged Allen goodbye.
I can’t imagine what he’d want to talk to me about. Especially over drinks of all things. This is the exact reason why I keep the number of gay male friends I have down to the strictest minimum.
