GIRLS NIGHT OUT: THE REJECTION TOUR

Sure, a night out in the town can be very interesting. Last Friday I had plans with Mr. Pont to go to the Lila Downs concert down at the university. It was supposed to be there at 7:30 pm sharp, but, since I hooked up two hours before with what I had been calling the object of my lust for quite some time (rough, tough, masculine, older, goatee, married), I was kind of tired (or in an afterglow, he he.) more on that later.

Well, by 7:30 I had decided not to go to Lila. I had to make a reading report for the class that I have Saturday morning, so I called Mr. Pont to tell him that I was going to do homework. After he told me that he had been dragging chair all the way from his house so that we can be comfortable, and that he had been guarding my place with his life, I was out of the house. Man, manipulation really works.

I arrived there a little past eight. Quickly, I found Mr. Pont and he was not alone (that, I knew). He was with a group of 5 people and I was the last one in line. I was sort of content that I had found the group, because the day before, at the Fillipa Giordano concert, I could not find them. I was on the right side of the stage, and they were on the left. I was closer to the stage than them, and I was standing up, and I enjoy it a lot. I think that those kinds of events you have to be standing up so that you can appreciate the whole experience. That’s why I was so mad at Re-Invention tour, when a woman asked me to sit down at the end of “Don’t tell me” because I was in her way. Good thing that Madonna asked all of the audience to stand up for the next song, “Like a prayer”. Madonna said so, in your face bitch.

Lila Downs got to the stage at 8:30, and her first song was very energetic, but by the third one, I was bored. My stomach was a little belligerent so I excuse myself and went to the library. I stayed there for a while and got back later on. I was not thrilled with the concert, but I made the most of it. At least I saw a couple of cute guys in the audience, and I said Hi! To my Aunt Cris, my mother’s sister. Strange relationship there. They do not like each other, and do not speak to each other, but at the same time, I have an excellent rapport with my aunt (not to mention similar artistic palates). She really was enjoying the show, so when she asked me what did I think of it, I simply lied and rapidly mentioned Fillipa’s concert, which I liked.

When Lila got down of he stage, the plan for the rest of the evening started. Mr. Pont and two of his friends, 2P and pearl wanted to go out to a club. The problem was that 2P wanted Pont to take him to his place so that he could change outfits (a very understandable request, being a gay man myself). The bad thing is that 2P was getting an attitude and Pont was not in the mood for it, so after a brief argument that “why wouldn’t you do as I say-because I say so” 2P ended up leaving the rest of the group to “cool off” (at the end, he got back to his place via taxi) and there’s where the tone of the evening began.

The group, once it got known the info, where surprised by 2P’s action. Even one girl asked what age he was, not a good sign. As much as 2P’s actions surprised them, Pont and Pearl where astonished not only for the fact that he left, but even more of their lack of counteraction to stop him. You see, the three of them have a long-standing relationship, and it seems that it was a first for the three. So much that everything that happened after was seen thru this event.

After the earthquake, we decided to go to a club downtown, in Mariscal Street. Who are we? Mr. Pont, Pearl, Hec and yours truly. On the way there, we tried to sheer each other up, and by the time we got to the club, we where pretty excited. Too bad that we didn’t anticipated what happened next.

As soon as we got to La Madelon, Hec and I entered the club. We were paying and we noticed that the other two were talking to Pregnant Lady a.k.a. the female bouncer. We got back outside to see what was going on. Pregnant Lady did not wanted to let Pearl go in because she did not have a “proper” I.D. Was she showing her bus pass? Her kinder garden card? No, she was presenting her Durango State Driving License, and according to this woman, it was not a valid I.D. I can relate to this, you see, I rarely drink, and one day I was at Pz’s place (he lives in El Paso) and I wanted a beer, so I went to the nearest store. The clerk did not sell me beer or any alcoholic beverage because I did not have a valid Texas I.D. I mean I’m Mexican, so for me to have a Texan I.D. would not be proper, not to say kind of illegal. I was 28 years old and it showed. But since a foreign government issued my I D., I was denied access to booze.

Ok. The previous situation, I can understand, but this? After we left and Pregnant Lady was complaining of our supposedly “superior” attitude, I got to know that Pregnant Lady has been pregnant for quite a while, years, and that when she finally gives birth is going to be a beautiful fossil. It appears that Pearl had a history with P Lady. Years before, P Lady was a waitress there, and Pearl had a very close relationship with Mr. Bottle, so you take out your conclusions. That’s why we were not allowed at the club, and at what club!!! It’s horrible, the first time I went I was afraid that somebody might stick something in me, and not in a good way, and not by choice.

After our bad luck there (that the group attributed to 2P’s bad karma, we went to El Cabaretito” a club that just reopened a few weeks back. Not a good choice. We were hesitant to enter, but the bouncer lured us in with the promise of getting raped at midnight. Who can say no to that? Once inside, the oppressing industrial cave-like décor, made us want to go somewhere else. Besides, the idea of being the only audience for the drag show was not appealing enough. We were back at the street in 15 minutes.

We got back to the car and decided to go to Bananas. No one but me had seen the new and improved Bananas (not a sight to get excited about). Anybody that goes downtown on weekends knows of the trains that throughout the night cuts downtown in half. When we got to Mejia Ave., the train was saying “screw u” to anyone that was trying to find a better scene at the other side of the tracks. So, to get there, we had to go all the way to Insurgentes Ave. to cross under the train. Another inconvenience because of 2P’S bad mojo.

Finnally, we arrived at Bannanas, but it looked as crowded as Cabaretito, so we jumped across the street to Albatros, now, what a difference. People. Dance. Queers. Drinks. Acceptable. The rest of the group had a drink while I was sitting at our designated table looking at a guy that captured my attention. At one o’clock, we felt that it was enough Albatros and got out. Back in the car, the idea of dancing at La Madelon got back in our minds. So, we dropped Pearl at the entrance, since Pregnant Lady was not on sight. 2 minutes later Mr. Pont. Received her call from inside the club. We took the car to the club’s parking lot and before the guy running say anything, Pont said, “yes, it’s us again”. He had given is crap the first time ‘cause we did not take the car out right after or problem with P Lady.

So there we were, dancing the night away, at the club that we envisioned from the start. Little did we know or fun was going to come to a quick end, Pregnant Lady spotted Pearl, and sent one of her bouncers to take her out of the club. They literally took her of the dance floor and into the street. We followed suit, and found ourselves back again were we started.

Back in the car, for our nightcap, we went to see the hustlers that stand around the zone. Nothing much to see, so we thought. But at the second round, Hec and I saw a Bearish guy that we both liked, tall and with a goatee. On the third round, Hec motioned the guy to come to the car and he did. Very cocky he approached the car, but as soon as he saw Pearl, he got scared, he turn around and walked away. Too bad, we wanted an orgy. By that time, it was two in the morning. I asked Pont to take me to my car. And with that, we ended up an evening that worked against us, but nevertheless, was Oh so much fun.

A MATTER OF WEIGHT.

Sometimes I wish my brain would go on vacation. I know, my brain is a beautiful mess.

Two weeks ago I had dinner with Pz, Tito and Monsieur Pont. For now on, I will call us the Gab squad (geeky and fabulous). I know, it’s a stretch to call us that. We’re barely geeky. Ok, PZ is, a lot. Two years ago I gave him a Dexter-shaped Piñata for his birthday because he looks just like him. Yes, he is that geeky. Tito is young so that makes him sort of fabulous in a geeky sort of way. Mr. Pont is tall and slender, that’s fabulous, but he likes comics too much. And me, the film buff, and that’s abs fab. Ok, I just wanted a quick way to say that I had dinner with Pz, Tito and Mr. Pont.

Afterwards, Pont took me home, and when we arrived there, we stayed in his car chatting. We talked of various things, but we ended up talking of self-image. How do I perceive myself and how does my self-image has disabled me for a new relationship, and how it helped to fail the last one…

This is how I started writing this post. In it, I was going to discuss the fact that I considered that I’m invisible in clubs, that I do not have a serious relationship and that the only people who dare to approach me are one way or the other unable to start a relationship with me. Also, I was going to analyze how the fact that my self image is devaluated has disabled me to look for a significant other. I was going to say that, since I don’t like the way I look, nobody that I would consider interesting enough might consider me boyfriend material. Well, DUHH!! It’s not that I’m sabotaging myself; I’m not just trying, not doing anything.

You see, I’m fat. You can sugar coat it, full figure, husky, big and lovable, you name it, but the fact remains, I’m fat. And I don’t like to be that way. Is not like I’m morbidly huge, although some people can argue that, and to those I say “Go sodomize yourselves”. I’m 5’8” and I weight 235 pounds, is not that much. I wear size 38 pants. I could use a size 34, but I don’t like to wear my pants on my balls. I wear size XL shirts, because I like to be comfortable and a little loose. As you can see, I’m not that weird or horrible or anything to hide in the cellar. Well, maybe some days.

The point is that, a lot of my neurosis and shortcomings come from this little fact, and, what I was going to do on this post was to bitch about it. I was only going to perpetuate the state I’m in by victimizing myself because I’m invisible to others when I go to clubs, because people do not look at me when I go out and because I cannot find a single respectable guy to start dating. Well, too bad. At the end, I decided not to write it, to leave it like that.

This week I had a chat with Pz. I invited myself to dinner with him, and when he asked me how I was doing, I told him of this post, what was my intention and why did I decided not to write about it. After listening to me, he told me “write it, but instead of these complains, write of the conclusions that you arrived at”.

So that’s why I’m writing this. Finally, I came to these conclusions:
Yes, I’m fat, because I want to be fat. Nobody but me put me in this position, nobody but me will take me out of it. So I better start doing something, because is true, I do not like to be a bear, I want to be a chaser.
I’m single because I want to, because I’m still afraid of letting my guard down with a man in a relationship-like environment. Also, I feel threatened if they show too much interest right away. I know, to little I don’t like, too much, I run the other way. It has to be enough.
I’m “invisible” in clubs because I want to. Of course, how the hell this huge piece of man can be invisible? You might ask, remember, 5’8”, 235 lbs. Is just that I don’t make eye contact and keep myself guarded with my body language. Since I feel inadequate, I don put myself out there. It’s my responsibility

I did not want to write this post because, after a great deal of mind blowing hours I came up with these three facts, and saying anything different seemed superfluous and false. This is the reality, my reality, so any intent to sugar coat it for me, at the end, felt wrong. I thank Pz for his words of encouragement, ant to make me realize that to write this is a way to confront me with my neurosis and my shortcomings. After all, I’m human and my duty is to grow and evolve and I believe that this is a good exercise to achieve this. Now, the only thing I have to do is get on a diet, start exercising or both. But man, that is sooo tiring, maybe I just accept the fact that I’m round and full of life and look for a handsome chaser or bear who happens to love chubby bears.