Saturday, June 4, 2011

The Mexican

One of the nice things of traveling on your own, is you never know who you will meet. When you are on your own, you are more open to meeting new people. Singles tend to attract other singles.

I went down for breakfast. I’m an early riser, so it was just me and this other guy. After 15 years of being officially gay, my gayer is finely tuned. I could tell this guy was family and he was checking me out.

I figured instead of sitting alone and having my breakfast while reading the paper, I would ask him if he wanted company. He did.

His name was Francisco and he was here on business from Mexico City. We did the usual small talk, what to do you for work...why are you here...etc. We quickly learned we both travelled extensively for work...and we both loved the same cities: Cape Town, Vancouver, San Francisco and Rio de Janeiro. So he likes the gayest cities in the world.

He had recently visited Sydney. One way to come out to a stranger is to tell them where you go out on the weekends or what you do on the weekends. If you name a gay hood or a gay bar, it’s basically a way to tell them you are gay. So the Mexican told me about his Sydney adventures...how we went out in Darlinghurst to bars on Oxford Street including the Colombian. Ding Dong - we have a gay one.

He asked me what I was doing for lunch. I was free...no longer working..just studying after all. I really could not tell if I was attracted to him. Normally I am not attracted to Latinos, it’s a bit like dating family. But he seemed nice enough and interesting enough. Everyone after all has a story and I had not met a Mexican in a while.

So off we went to a nice restaurant for lunch. It was the place where all the expats go to - you could have been in a trendy European city. Good food, nice company, all the white people in Bangkok having exported food in one place.

Expats in Asia tend to stick together - I think expats fall into two categories - those that like the locals and want to learn a lot about the culture and those who want to pretend they still live in their former countries and who stay in certain neighborhoods and eat in certain restaurants. The restaurant (Kappa Cafe) was full of the latter group.

Again conversation flowed...and so did the wine. I normally do not drink at daytime but after all I am on holidays. He picked up the check. I think he expensed it. We walked back to our hotel. He was on the top floor and wanted to show me his view. I had a bad feeling about where this was going. I was still very indifferent as to whether I wanted to hook up with the Mexican.

I could tell he was keen. He kept touching me without any real need...touching my knee, touching my back in the left, patting me on the shoulder. The Signs were as clear as his  sexuality. 

The view was pretty impressive. He lied on the bed and asked me to sit next to him. Crap. I’m really bad at saying no. He bought me lunch so now I felt like I owed him. I dashed to the toilet and sent Jenny an emergency text. Save me!

She replied. I told him my friend was waiting for me = thanks but no thanks. He was surprised. But I did not care. I’d probably never see him again. Normally I never pass on sex but there were just no sparks. All I could think about was how much this guy looked my uncle (younger version). I’ll try anything once except incest!

1 comment:

  1. Hopefully it won't be weird when you are next at breakfast and he is there!

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