Being Gay Does Not Mean I'm Happy

When Surdus relented you to hang out with him at a bar, it is pretty difficult to resist his persistence. He can persist until he gets what he wanted. With my left knee recuperating from the fall last Monday night, I resisted until Surdus said that Norbert is driving. I caved in. Then my roommate, Perlis, resisted. Then she caved in. Off to SBNY last Wednesday night.

Driving to SBNY was uneventful, though. But Norbert is classic New York driver, rattled me several times as he twirled his minivan cross the island to Chelsea. Raising my hair is not attractive.

At SBNY, we met Web and chatted amongst each other for few hours -- we get to VEE VEE at a birthday boy who ordered the jockstrap-only bartenders to get on the counter and drain the alcohol on his chest so that the birthday boy can guzzle on his bellybutton.

SBNY is getting sleazy.

It was time to go home, my leg was acting funny. And I was hungry for a slice of pizza. So I went across the street to Ray's Pizza where I was greeted by a studmuffin who remembered me at The Hole. Frankly, I cannot remember who he is. He said, "You did not email me."

D-oh. Sorry. My fault. Honest mistake, I think.

Surdus, Web, Perlis and Norbert stared in amazement because this studmuffin is ... one da bomb.

Then he gave me his email address and said, "Email me, please!"

I smiled and nodded.

He left the premise as I picked up the pizza then went back home. Surdus remarked, "I knew RT is a slut!"

Yeah, whatever.

Can you guess who this is?



The hint is that he is Roger Desmarais' twin brother. That boy has the guts to do that in Toronto Pride Parade. Wonder if he left a skid mark on his underwear for the world to see?

R-