QColumn: A Gay In The Life – Here Cums The Rain Again

Here Comes The Rain Again
By Steve Prince
My phone vibrated in my pants. I pulled it from my pocket to see I had a text from Cody.
We’re upstairs.
The bouncer stopped me.
“ID please,” he commanded in a soft baritone.
“Well thanks,” I said to him enthusiastically. I know it’s silly, but I totally coo whenever a bouncer checks my age. To think that at thirty I still look twenty-one—okay, it’s completely ridiculous to even think any bouncer would be that blind. Still, at least I feel my eye cream isn’t going to complete waste.
I gave the man my driver’s license and without any expression he glanced at the date and robotically handed my license back to me.
As I walked in the courtyard of Fiesta Cantina, I heard him command ID from the guy behind me—humph. Surely he didn’t ask everyone for their ID… right?
Fiesta’s crowded tonight. I like this bar. It has a friendly, casual feel, and offers a respite from the overly pretentious, expensive bars lining Santa Monica Boulevard.
The summer breeze danced through the hanging white lights above my head, causing them to sway. Men of all types filled every corner of the bar. There wasn’t a set crowd at Fiesta—you had younger and older, slim and chubby. I sighed. The smell of stale beer wafting to my nose, oddly comforting me. God, my white trash upbringing.
I turned to walk towards the steps to the upstairs patio, when a voice stopped me—it was cock-eyed Steve. The last time I saw Steve… well, I came in his eye and he kicked me out for laughing. Seeing him tonight, a part of me thought, “You should apologize.” But nah, was too good a story. I decided on something more informal instead.

“Hi Steve,” I said smiling.
He did a double take.
“Oh hey… Steve,” he smiled, “how are you?”
“I’m well thanks.”
His eyes scanned me up and down, and out of nowhere he said, “Damn, you look good!”
“Are you drunk?” I asked without even thinking.
“No—” he said, with a smile.
“But you,” he continued, “you look different. Whatever you’re doing suits you.”
“Well,” I paused, “thank you.”
We both stood there for one awkward moment.
I felt he was about to ask me out and I decided to make my getaway.
“Well,” I began, “I should… um, go.”
I turned before hearing his goodbye. Maybe I was rude, but kicking me out of your apartment because I accidentally came in your eye is—I think—is pretty damn rude too.
I trekked upstairs andalmost reached the patio, when an attractive Latino man brushed his hand across my stomach.
He said something in Spanish that I completely didn’t understand, then walked away. I turned to look at him; him watching me. He leaned forward and placed his hand on my cheek as if about to kiss me.
Stealthily, I grabbed his hands with both my own and patted them. I said, “Thank you,” and slipped my hands away into the crowd of the patio.
“Stevie!” Cody’s voice echoed over the tops of bobbing heads. I turned to see Cody wearing his normal summer outfit: a cut-off t-shirt (more cut-off than t-shirt), some distressed jeans hanging low (revealing his lack of underwear), and a baseball cap. Troy stood next to him smiling precociously.
I hugged them both as we met
“How’s it going, girls?” I asked.
Cody flung his arm around Troy.
“This boy is on the prowl tonight,” Cody exclaimed.
“Oh are you?” I grinned at Troy.
“Well, I have to,” he said resigned, “now that you have a boyfriend I’m the only single one left!”
“Peter is not my boyfriend,” I said quickly. At least I didn’t think so. I mean, we still hadn’t talked about it. Which was fine. I was totally okay with that.
“Oh please,” Troy said, blowing a raspberry with his tongue.
I wanted to change the subject, somewhat.
“Well,” I said, “then I guess I will meander around and see if there hare any hot boys out on the patio.” And with a bit of a flourish I descended into the crowd.
I had not walked more than twenty minutes when a man approached me. He was taller than me and he had light brown hair and deep hazel eyes. He was cute.
“Hi,” he said, “I’m Neal.”
“Hi,” I replied, “I’m Steve. Nice to meet ya.”
“Pleasure” he reassured.
I don’t know why but I love it when guys respond with “Pleasure” instead of “Nice to Meet You.” It just sounds so gentlemanly and Southern.
We both chatted for a bit and then something odd happened.
“Can I get your number?” he asked.
Say whaaat? No one ever asks for my number. I’m the girl that never gets dates.
I immediately began to say yes, then I thought about Peter.
“Well, um…” I sputtered, “sure.” I didn’t want to be rude.
Forty-five minutes later…
Neal’s hand slid down the front of my pants. He smiled feeling the wetness of my cock then leaned in to kiss me again; I kissed him back. At first it felt good, but then an image kept popping into my mind—Peter pulling me up into our first kiss.
“I can’t,” I said taking in a deep breath. We had nestled ourselves in a back corner. Gently I pushed Neal away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said, “Well, uh… I feel like I had too much to drink.” That was bullshit. I had drunk one beer and that’s all. “I should go,” I added.
He held my hands in his own.
“I’ll call you,” he asked.
“Sure,” I said squeezing his hands to release me.
I walked out into the patio again to find the boys.
“I’m leaving,” I called out as I saw them. Cody and Troy both waved goodbye. We were too far apart and the crowd was too thick to move.
As I walked to my car, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. Boy. For once in my life I was “dating” someone—whatever that means. And now in the past two hours I had literally four guys all but throw themselves at me. Is this a cruel joke? I never get asked out. But more importantly, did I want to be asked out anymore? I didn’t know. In one way, I didn’t feel bad for kissing that other guy. Peter and I never made any agreements. However, it’s not like he had the option of dating other people—he’s not really out.
But no, I thought. I care for Peter a lot… a lot lot. I didn’t feel as if I’d cheated on him. In fact it was almost as if kissing another man helped me realize the Peter’s importance in my life. Now, if I could just figure out what the hell is actually going on between us. I have a feeling that’s going to take a while. As I pondered this, I rolled down my car windows and let the night breeze embrace me, reminding me this was a rare time I was leaving West Hollywood alone without feeling lonely.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done
Here You Cum Again
Eye Of The Beholder
The Present
A Minute’s Pause
Brotherly Love
Ladies Who Lunch