just a stay at home girl

again, sometimes it's just better to stay at home. forget every good thing i've ever said about oakland. i take it all back. one night out, that's all it takes to erase every dream and possibility you ever had about a place. now i know i'm just a skinny bitch white faggot. always, forever. and somehow it was all my idea. i asked sergio if he wanted to go to this hella gay party. i met him on adam4adam, of course. we had a burrito on tuesday and that was fun, so let's see where it goes. he asks if we can stop by his friends house first, they're going to the party, too. i don't want to, but i say okay. so there it is, the real problem right there. doing things i know are going to be horrible. but still let me blame it on oakland tonight. they're all educated i guess. but loving their drugs and bad tv. the nicest one says, "i like watching tv, you don't here many people say that today." sergio is loud and bitchy. i don't have much to say, big surprise. how do i get myself into this shit? their house is all middle class but i guess they're some kind of cutting edge lesbians. on to the party and sergio is now driving after drinking two beers and now i'm really just wanting to be at home. he's dancing as he drives. why me? the party's on san pablo in a neighborhood i've never been to. i like seeing the different neighborhoods, so that's a plus. it's an interesting space. funky, red and black. behind the bar, "hella gay" is blinking off and on. dirty oakland stank skank realness everywhere. sprawled on sofas, legs on coffee tables covered with bottles and butts. smoke everywhere. mean people everywhere. skinny nerd chic. tough butch style finesse, with highlights. what's up? the dance floor is moist. i think i see michelle tea in the corner, taking notes for her next novel but it's just my imagination running away with me again. if all the women left and were replaced by men, this is exactly the kind of place where i'd liked to get fucked in public. my vodka cranberries aren't doing a damn thing for me. and i still don't have a damn thing to say to these people. why doesn't ms. coleman have anything to say? that's what one of those high schoolers says. oh jesus, let me out here. then the butch one says, or maybe i just imagine it, he's a faggot, he doesn't say anything. definitely the word faggot was used more than once. am i offended? they liked to talk about white people a lot, probably to make me uncomfortable, which it did. i am working some castro clone look, i realize, but they probably don't realize that i realize it. they probably think that's castro realness. if they only knew. it's all horribly wrong. i don't like sergio, i don't like his friends, i like looking at the people dancing for like two minutes, but then i need to get out of there. they want to go to some other party. i go home and i love it so.

modern possibilities

i deleted my adam4adam account after one week. hours and hours of looking at severed cocks, heads, and chests, i felt more indecisive than ever. adam did give me three interesting encounters, so it wasn't a complete waste of my life engery, i suppose. the first one was my neighbor from down the hall in number 507. we had chatted in the elevator, of course, and i thought he was sort of hot, but he seemed kind of like an asshole in that way that highly-educated, successful, fifty-year old guys can be. so i didn't pursue it. but then he saw my cock on adam and he was very excited. talk about a convenient hook-up, i just walked down the hall. it was excitement, it was joy. but then i could feel the hillbillies watching me on the 24-hr surveillance cameras as i walked down the hall. the always ruin it. he talked for an almost an hour and told me a story about this other hook-up he had where the trick told him that he talked too much. i didn't know what to say. i asked him if he was a bottom and then things started heating up, sort of. i couldn't really stay in the moment. it was mid-day, i knew i didn't really want to be here doing this, and i knew i couldn't fuck him with a condom. still, i came. unlike the second adam hook-up. i rode my bike all the way to the top of this hill with all the gorgeous houses. oakland has so many of those, so there, haters. anyway, this one is just too much. one thousand year old gates, tribal doors, totem poles, canoes, but modern, too, stucco and stainless steel, windows everywhere, balconies, god the view, rugs, paintings everywhere, and plants, plants, plants. he's a designer, he has a boyfriend, he's from somewhere else, he's busy, he might have to go, oh yeah he has to go. and there's his neighbor at the gate asking for advice on pouring cement and then i'm just some client, well you have my number and e-mail address, call me if you have any questions about the quote. i'm laughing, is he for real. thank god i have my bike so i can zoom away down the hill and forget everything that's ever happened. how do people get like that? so rich, so sure, so boring, so dumb, so fulfilled, so dumb. the third one, well the third one is yet to be determined. this might actually lead to something, but there i go being positive. see the thing is that i had already deleted my account and took a bath to cleanse my hole from the disease of online hook-ups. and there i was at the gorgeous laney college campus-seriously, i love that campus. there i was walking, and this boy is walking towards me and he says hey what's up or whatever it is that people say these days and i of course said hi and of course i keep walking. but really i know instantly who he his. or i know him from his adam profile. i look back, but he's still walking. i stop and i think i should do something. i follow him back to his back and i say hey don't i know you from online.