Saturday, December 29, 2012

Should Auld Acquaintance

Quite laughable the cherished illusions we once had about ourselves. Like the erroneous conclusion that I'd made about being a shy, diffident wallflower back in high school - obviously recently debunked by my old classmates.

Turns out I'm far more prominent than I once imagined. Don't know if it's the way I talk, the way I walk or even the way I dress but somehow folks seem to remember me clearly.

Even from the tiny, almost imperceptible images I have of myself on the all-intrusive social media. Friends I know can easily attest that my pictures are shockingly rare, impossibly undersized and quick to disappear - kinda like the much lauded sporadic appearance of a passing comet. From an indistinct penny-sized stamp photo of my mug, it seems I can be effortlessly recognized by half the friends I might - and might not know on facebook.

Evidently proven on planes, trains and automobiles.

And these days, even in the gym.

Done my share of ogle-staring at some of the beefcake cuties in the gym, though I do try my best to keep discreet for fear of a violent gay-bashing. Almost impossible not to gawk unabashedly when a few choice specimens seem to spend all their time striking fieeerce poses shirtless in front of the full length mirror.

Whatchu looking at!

Not often do I get a quick glance in return but this morning I had particularly buff patron - not only catching my furtive gaze - but pointedly staring back full of undisguised curiousity. Wondered whether I'd need to make a quick getaway before I received a quick punch in the face. Was I drooling just a bit too much?

Then as he followed me into the shower, I started to reach for my mini brolly in my bag. Always a handy weapon for a purposeful smash on the face of a would-be assailant.

Patron : Hey, I've seen you online. You're Paul, right?
Paul : What the - 
Patron : Seen you around. Maybe Grindr
Paul : Hardly. I have a barely functioning Grindr profile!
Patron : Still, I've seen you around. 

Contrary to popular expectation, I don't actually enjoy carrying on conversations in the locker room while dressed in a skimpy knotted towel.

Waitaminute, it just came to me but did he want something else in the shower? 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Do You See What I See

Always kept a diary somewhere, even as a kid. Scorpios love their diaries after all. Usually hidden somewhere dark and obscure, preferably under lock and key.

Not that several layers of highly regarded, heavy-duty protection would keep an extremely inquisitive mother from finding it! Especially if you're the enigmatic, buttoned up son hiding homosexual skeletons in the closet. Wouldn't be surprised if she brashly ransacked my locked drawers the very moment I left for university. Don't think it took her much longer than that to discern my particular predilection from the hitherto secret diaries.

Though she certainly kept her counsel since I never heard a peep from her till recently.

Judging by her seemingly cool acceptance of my homosexuality with little or almost no complaint, I figured that was the end of the matter. She knows. Almost everyone knows. The end. Especially since my mother does seem to go out of her way to involve Charming Calvin in our family events.

Sounded almost idyllic till last week.

Mother : Reading some of your past letters, you seemed so happy.
Paul : I'm not exactly sad now.
Mother : Well I mean happy with so many friends who are girls.
Paul : I still have lots of friends. Who are girls.
Mother : That's not what I meant.
Paul : Are we seriously revisiting this topic?
Mother : Not really.
Paul : Because that horse is dead and buried. No need to beat it anymore.


Girl : How long will this take?
Paul : Just smile, it's a sham marriage.
Girl : Just make sure I get paid for this.
Paul : Could you be a surrogate too?
Girl : Let's see if your cheque clears.

Could have handled that better but I couldn't help getting irritated by it. Even worse, I don't think I could blame her, well not entirely. No matter how accepting parents might be on the surface, they will always hope for the best when it comes to their children, and yes, they want that bit of normalcy. At least something conventional in the heteronormative fashion with a man and a woman getting married.

Will that withering hope ever fade away? 

Thursday, December 20, 2012

A Virgin Unspotted

In our increasingly fast-paced world, attention-deficit tweens out there need everything to happen almost instantaneously at their fingertips. Needs to happen yesterday as the slangtionary jargon goes. Not only are comprehensive blogs being relegated to pithy tweets with sentences perfunctorily sliced into abbreviated LOLs and TMIs, even television promos have been disconcertingly reduced to an abrupt three-second flash on the screen.

Hell, we need to get into the action so lightning-fast that even the sober wallflower protagonist loses her ertswhile virginity with an almost stranger barely five minutes into her admittedly awkward debut. Not to say that I wouldn't do the same for the hunky dreamboat she has on top of her but hey, shouldn't we take some things real slow?

So I'm quite pleased to know that one couple has decided to slow things down, almost to a deliberate crawl. Both time-wise - and modesty-wise.

As in back to the Edwardian age slow. With the rage over all things Edwardian these days, you could say that Fabulous Felix has found his very own Downton gentleman in the form of the scrupulous, sober squire Sawyer. Though you wouldn't be able to form such a contrasting conjecture from the exceedingly dashing way Sawyer dresses himself.

Rather than stumble into a torrid one-night-stand as certain impetuous gay men are wont to do, Squire Sawyer has pleaded for a chance to pace their budding relationship, something the more demanding Felix is a little doubtful of but still willing to address for Sawyer's sake. So they have committed themselves to a series of dates, thoroughly dignified assignations in a bid to know one another better.

Just short of a reproachful duenna.

Felix : The tea was absolutely lovely. 
Sawyer : Quite. Nice weather we're having today.  
Felix : A tad chilly though. Would you permit me to hold your hand? 
Sawyer : Surely no one would presume to judge us if the action was solely to keep my hands warm. 
Felix : Quite above reproach I assure you!

{ Felix takes Sawyer's hands in his }

Felix : Why your hands are freezing!
Sawyer : Quite.
Felix : Isn't this just wonderful?
Sawyer : Wait I- I think it's a little too much. So awfully fast of me! Could you give me back my hands?
Felix : Really, my dear? They feel so lovely in mine.
Sawyer : But what would the neighbours think! 

Ooh saucy.

Everything above board with those two I assure you.

Perhaps a quick tumble, my dear?

In fact, if Calvin and I were to play the roles of Matthew and Lady Mary, I guess Felix and Sawyer would be Branson and Lady Sybil brought to life. Yes, the socialist chauffeur and the suffragette socialite who braved the gaping chasm of social class and status just to share a simple embrace. After almost five years. Talk about a slow-burn love affair.

Though I have to say I can't tell exactly who's playing either part. Doubt either could carry the role of a virgin unspotted. :)

Simple dating. When was the last time you heard that happening?

Monday, December 17, 2012

In The Bleak Midwinter

Some days you just watch a short that triggers a bittersweet memory, kinda like this wonderful locally-filmed clip about long-distance relationships and the futility of it all.

Sigh. Unfortunately not all of us are lucky enough to come home with an origami crane. Me, I returned with a  suitcase full of broken dreams.

Sometimes it's hard to assign blame when relationships fall apart. Don't think it was entirely my ISO's fault nor was it mine. Probably both of us contributed to the inevitable downfall. The gaping distance not entirely breached by the wonders of modern technology ( and by God, we only had really really slow dial-up back then ). The callow carelessness of youth neither relieved by my crazed schedule in med school nor his capricious moods.

And yes, my ISO and I didn't work hard enough to keep the relationship going.

Ah, the things you see in retrospect :)

Thursday, December 13, 2012

God Rest Ye Merry Salarymen

Unlike ye olde days when zealous fealty was paramount, these days it isn't all that uncommon to have even the most established salarymen forsaking their corner cubicles when a better offer comes along. Nothing like the seductive lure of the greener carpet flooring in the office building next door. Even I am not immune to the sweet siren call.

Yet Charming Calvin - despite his daily protestations about the evils of work - has remained steadfast at his post for the past decade. Or rather should I say his humble cubicle. Compared to the sinful wages claimed by his bragging peers, Calvin is only paid a miserly pittance for all the hard work he has presumably put in. Several months of insistent nagging ( on my part ) for him to send out a detailed resume to anyone who would listen only resulted in Calvin turning a deaf ear.

Till the proverbial straw.

Don't know exactly what prompted him. Could be his odious superior haranguing him again. Could be the intolerable work environment. Hell, it could be an inconsequential typo in the office newsletter.

And so the day came when he sent out two letters of application. Only two. Assuredly not the tottering towers of envelopes I expected but I was infinitedly pleased to see even some little effort made.

Paul : So have you decided to leave?
Calvin : Not sure yet.
Paul : What's making you stay? What's making you go?
Calvin : Not sure yet.
Paul : Maybe you should come up with a pro and con list. 
Calvin : Oh yeah, maybe I could do that.
Paul : Tidings of comfort and joy on the pro side hopefully. 

Normally any average joe, when given such a simple task, would briefly sum up the aforementioned pros and cons on a hastily torn scrap of paper napkin, listing them down with a borrowed pencil. Easy. Simple. Quick.

With all the complex equations and tables, how are we ever gonna come to a satisfactory conclusion!

Not for this engineer obviously. Someone obviously adores their spreadsheets, charts and graphs.

Paul : You came up with a coloured table with bullet points. Just short of a graph and pie chart.
Calvin : Soon.
Paul : You're a freak.

Sunday, December 09, 2012

Deck The Belles

Time again for the annual Christmas fĂȘte in Netherfield. Carried that tradition over from back home - been doing it for three years since. Figured since I won't be here to celebrate with my friends and neighbours, I might as well throw a celebratory bash the week or two before.

Sweating ignominiously during the arduous preparations for dinner simply isn't for us so we've always hired caterers. Gives us more time to play dress up, something me and the other two tenants of Netherfield, Kool Kat and Fabulous Felix, simply adore. Don we now our gay apparel indeed.

Unfortunately that doesn't seem to be the case for everyone else invited.

Paul : OMG.
Kat : I see it too.
Paul : Flip flops? Crocs? 
Kat : Well I never!

Though the invitation card for the Netherfield Tea Party might read smart casual for the dress code, almost none of the guests come appropriately dressed. Most appear to have rolled out of their beds only to pull on the closest rumpled tee and shorts from the laundry basket and a pair of dirtied flip flops.

Paul : Good God. 
Felix : Ratty denim cut-offs? Seriously.
Paul : Maybe that's highly formal for them. 
Felix : What happened to Suit Up!
Paul : Used to think that dressing up for a tea party was inherently obvious. Maybe they mistook the invitation for a beach picnic. 
Felix : Don't you miss the days when we had themed parties?
Paul : And friends who would actually adhere to the theme?

Snotty much?

Hardly jolly but just let me rant a bit here. Look, I'm not deriding their choice of clothes - well, not much - but when there's a dress code clearly implied, shouldn't there be some intuitive need to follow? When did we all collectively start to think that scrubby casual wear can be suitably appropos for every sort of social event?

The halls are decked with boughs of holly, shouldn't you be similarly glammed up too? Suit up and join the chorus!

Thursday, December 06, 2012

Baby It's Cold Outside

Woman : Oh you must wear a condom. No glove, no love.
Man : Nah, I don't do condoms.
Woman : But why? 
Man : I can't get an erection when I wear one. 
Woman : Oh then it's okay.

Seriously? Sometimes I can understand when credulous females fall for this incredibly lame excuse that even the thinnest of condoms, almost feather light, would cause their formerly rampant erections to spontaneously wilt. Not being blessed - or cursed - with a penis themselves, you couldn't expect the poor bamboozled girls to know any better.

Oh boy, you ain't coming anywhere near my fine ass without a condom.

But you'd think that gay men - which by definition would be in possession of their own genitals and surely fiddled with them semi-regularly - would be far less susceptible to such deplorable schemes to deny the glove. Especially with the ever-present threat of pernicious sexually transmitted diseases around.

Apparently I was wrong.

Paul : You mean that stupid excuse that it doesn't have much feeling works on guys too?
Marshall : Yes?
Paul : And he said he can't get it up when he wears a condom?
Marshall : Yes?
Paul : And you believed it?
Marshall : Yes?
Paul : Bloody hell, you have a penis too!
Marshall : Yes?
Paul : Did you seriously phrase that as a question?

Honestly never had much of a problem with the rubber. Even a stiff wind gets me hard after all. And hell, imagining waiting out there at the hospital corridor for the test results confirming STD is enough to have me slip one on.

Look I can understand that there'll be some appreciable loss of sensation when that latex barrier first slips on. Couple that with a substantial psychological hurdle - omg it's gonna get soft - and it can grow to be quite daunting. Certainly enough to scare away a budding erection.

But hey, there are so many exhilarating ways to bring it back. :)

Sure, baby it's numb inside but you still gotta wear that condom.

Monday, December 03, 2012

Here We Come Assailing

I think most would find me quite unflappable. Become so sadly inured to the little horrors of human life, painful little vestiges that pass through the hospital corridors, that very little surprises me.

At least that's what I used to think. Till this morning when I opened the door for the patient only to let out a chilling, blood-curdling shriek worthy of a histrionic scream queen. Well, I almost did. Still had enough presence of mind to bite my lip.

Unsurprisingly very little prepares you for an ex-boyfriend coming in with his pretty young wife, visibly enceinte. If I hadn't taken the Hippocratic Oath to heart a while ago, I might have shoved his heavily pregnant missus aside only to wallop the swinging bastard on his handsome nose.

Yes, I was gonna go Assailing.

But the unrecognizing look on his face gave me pause. Surely after sharing such intimacy as we have had, he wouldn't have forgotten me - short of a lame amnesiac episode courtesy of a badly-produced television drama.

And he called me doctor.

No, my ISO has never called me that. Not even during roleplay.

Definitely not him then, this shockingly identical doppelganger right down to the riotous black curl on the back of his neck. Such amazing similarities that I had to further confirm by checking the name on the medical notes handed to me. Apparently this firmly heterosexual fellow bearing a striking resemblance to my ISO had brought his wife down for a caesarean section.

Who's Your Daddy!

Doesn't mean my ISO got off scot-free though.

Paul : Damn you.
My ISO : And a Happy Holidays to you too.
Paul : Bastard.
My ISO : What did I do now?
Paul : You got a girl pregnant!
My ISO : Me? Lordy, sounds like a Christmas miracle to me. 
Paul : The patient's husband looks exactly like you!
My ISO : Surely not! Take a picture.
Paul : No! But he does look like you.
My ISO : Impossible! Surely I am better looking!
Paul : He's in his early twenties. 
My ISO : So am I. 
Paul : In your dreams. 

Always wondered what I would think if I were to meet my ISO and his new partner, if ever. Though he has forever eschewed companionship and commitment, I wouldn't hold him to his word.

Obviously I would start out screaming - and then a-wassailing.