Sick, ill, not well

I have been ill for the last couple of weeks. A bad cold apparently. I'm getting over it now, but I have a persistent hacking cough. It sucks. *sniffles*

The Trouble with Dancing

What is it about dancing? When did all these people learn how to bump, grind, and shake their groove things? It seems I missed the class that everyone else took. I've never quite learned the skills of the dance floor.

Three weeks ago found me on the dance floor of 750 Harrison in San Francisco. It's Thursday night edition, "The Crib", is an 18+ gay night. They advertise it as the only such club in the Bay Area.

I'm just 19, so there wasn't a chance to put a few drinks in me to cast aside the embarassment normally associated with my dancing. My usual timidity and self-consciousness were in full effect. With some friends, we looked out over the floor. On pedestals were a twink shaking his ass in cargo shorts like an hourly hotel bed vibrator, a big flaming black man pracing and twirling like a ballerina, and two shaved men, built like basketball players, humping each other to the point that I wanted to tell them to get a room (the twink can shake the bed).

It was on this night that I lose my club virginity, and the only thing about dance clubs that I really knew came from watching Queer as Folk. And while I definitely would have loved a club like Babylon, the music here was more of the hip-hop variety rather than the pop that I prefer for dancing.

So the group is made up of two lesbians of varying degrees, and one bi guy from Laney College GSA and we make our way to an as yet unoccupied corner of the floor and start swaying. We do about an hour of swaying and I'm checking out all the other boys. One of the shaved heads has found another boy to toss around and the dance floor is getting crowded.

Another part of the dance floor experience I never picked up was the whole joining a group of strangers or picking the guy out of the crowd. I'm sure there were plenty of people just like me, looking for a dance that didn't exactly leave room for the Holy Spirit.

I saw a guy who looked rather lonely and someone I could find rather dashing. It seemed he was walking around, half-singing along to the lyrics of the music playing, and I was still doing my swaying. So I try to catch his eye, but to no prevail. I'm sure I could have come up with some line like, "Looking for someone? Well you've got me." At which point I would be horribly embarassed and run to the restroom crying.

So the night ended with me missing the experiences I've had with friends, in particular the Londoner.

A week ago
So a week ago I'm back at "The Crib" intending to meet up with a few people from school. Me being me I'm rather early and the club is only very lightly populated. I run into someone unexpectedly (not sure of her "out" status, so I'll keep her anonymous) and in my excitement I say hello. Suddenly I was faced with the prospect of introducing myself to five other people and that's when I froze. If I recall correctly, the following thoughts ran through my mind, "I'm alone, I look so pathetic, this guy is way hotter than me, don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up!" I of course fuck up by sort of waving at everybody and running off to sit at a table in the club's lounge. I make a recovery later when the girl introduces me to her friends and the rather cool looking guy. As I recall, he was chewing gum, which I find rather hot.

I'm eventually dancing in a circle, four girls, myself, and the guy. The arithmetic would seem obvious, but alas, my self-consciousness got the best of me and the most I could manage were glances in his direction. He seemed to be staring off into space the whole time. Unfortunately really. I had to leave early (in the middle of the tranny show) to pick up a friend from another place, and it would seem I would never see him again, as is so often the case.

Yesterday
So I get a random friend request on Facebook from a girl who was a year behind me in high school, and I'm like, sure! And in her profile picture who else is it but our mystery man from a week ago? Small world, so I friend him, he accepts, and suddenly we see a little bit more into each others lives. The miracles of online networking, huzzah.

It's so interesting how we put up these facades of invincibility when we go out when really all we want more or less is for someone to find us attractive, someone to find us nice, someone that wants to spend a little bit of time with you.

Today
I still don't know how to meet strangers on the dance floor, and my dancing is still of the swaying/flailing variety.

Good feelings

You know that feeling you get when someone you really like is sort of hovering around you? He might be talking to you, working with you, he might not, but he's around, and he doesn't know how much you like him.

It's a fun feeling.

Not a Hottie

I'm not a hottie. My family says I'm a "handsome boy" and my friends say I'm a cutie, but I'm not a hottie.

A hottie has the witty remark, the idea to add, the beloved quirk. I am a dullard, I'm slow to the mark, and I can count on one hand the number of good comebacks I've given.

A hottie is confident, he can jump into a dance circle and pluck the boy of his choosing out of a crowd. I'm shy and stick to dancing with my lesbian friends. Oh I'll eye people I want to dance with, even people who look as lonely as me, but I'll be too shy, afraid of rejection.

A hottie is sure in their friends. I worry that they're looking for the slightest excuse to jump ship.

A hottie knows everyone will be undressing him in their eyes, that he'll be part of every boy's fantasy. I don't even think of myself in my fantasies. I always pretend I'm someone else.

The hottie has an uplifting ending. I can only apologize for being a downer.