Friday, July 04, 2008

Chances Are...
or
Fuck The 4th

First of all, fuck the 4th of July, nobody gives a real shit about this Holiday, its just an excuse to blow pretty colors into the air and have BBQs...

Not that there's anything wrong with those particular activities, but as a people we're just so DEPENDANT on everything (corrupt govt officials, oil, swing voters[?]) that a celebration of Independance is moot, sort of like a farmer celebrating Vegetarian's day.Let's write about (and read in turn) about something more interesting.

I'm in love, or rather, was in love--or more specifically I am in love with someone who isn't around here.

Let's cue the song.



My synapses are firing for a boy I met the night before pride when Fly G tried calling me fat. Yeah, so I was out to disprove his theory when I saw this vision in front of my eyes, an awkward looking French Canadian young man with a sly smile and innocent demeanor.

We talked and I learned he was staying in NY for a few days. We exchanged numbers and I promised I'd invite him to the following day's Pride festivities--not at all seriously contemplating him showing up...But there he was, standing in front of me the day of the brunch.

"HI There!" He said, and he was cuter than I remembered. I know, I know, its disgusting, and some friends were there to witness it, and I'm sure that it was their first time exposed to this Kevin (Scott and Bogsworth were both convinced I was utterly evil before this display).

TL;DR version: I ended up taking Mr. French Canadian away from the group, far away, to Long Island City, which was done on a whim because he'd mentioned that he regretted not having taken a picture of the NY city skyline.I took him to the perfect spot to do so, and we kissed [quite a bit], and he left...

Because you better believe I tried dragging him home.Alas, he was pure, and intensely shy, which just turned me on even more.

Why am I writing this? I'll tell you why. Because Chances Are is on repeat, there are fireworks in the sky beyond my window, I'm 1/4 done with a bottle of wine, and he just texted. And this too shall pass, just like you and yours, and your grandpa and grandma, and the world (especially after the wine is done).

The point? Its good to know that our synapses still betray our cynicism.

3 comments:

Eric said...

so, let me get this right...

this FRENCH CANADIAN boy, whom you barely know, befriends you right before the high holy day of GAY PRIDE and secretly convinces you to ditch your friends, not drink alcohol, and not have sex?

then, on INDEPENDENCE DAY, this same FRENCH CANADIAN boy inadvertently pulls on your heart strings, convincing you to STAY AT HOME and NOT BBQ RED MEAT and NOT GET DRUNK and NOT PLAY WITH FIREWORKS?!

basically, he's a terrorist, and you're not supporting our troops.

;)

Kevin said...

1) I was drunk for the majority of gay pride and I did get a blowjob on Pride. Thank you.

2) The only reason I'm at home is because you are "chilling because you're tired", FLY G is passed out pills, and Scott is away. These are my exciting friends everyone.

im'mature said...

Damned cockteasing Canucks.

On another note, I'd previously been led to believe that all New Yorkers enjoyed a large and on-call entourage of acquaintances and fuckbuddies. You have no reasons to be home, you poor excuse of a socialwhore.