San Juan Brothas 2007
My Puerto Rico adventure last week was amazing. Billed as San Juan Brothas, Puerto Rico for Memorial Weekend was buzzing with, what seemed like, every state-side man of color who could afford a ticket to the Caribbean treasure of an island. My roomies for the long weekend – Larry, Robert, Dwayne and Mike – were the best mix of calm, crazy, mature, conservative and fun. Dwayne, who is author of My Man, My Boyz, even had a reading over the long weekend and I was impressed and proud to see his dream come to life. My apologies about not having pictures, but I sincerely didn’t feel like toting my camera along on our beach, club and excursion trips. All-in-all the trip was full of fun and I met so many fun and beautiful people.
As many of you know, I moved just days before my Puerto Rico jaunt. Since my return, I’ve been frantic trying to get my place as together as possible. Honestly, I’m a bit exhausted and am well into the triple digit spending with regard to new blinds, sheets, towels, etc. I’m looking at an August housewarming, so stay tuned for an invite to drop by.
I haven’t installed the air conditioner in my new crib and it’s an understatement to say that the place was a true inferno over the weekend. Friday after work Baby Daddy and I rode home from the office together, picked up a take-out bite from an area café and came back to my place to eat dinner. After showing him the new place we decided to come out of the office attire and have mad-butt-naked-sweaty sex forgetting that I now live on the ground floor and had only temporary blinds to shield me from the casual pedestrians ambling passed my bedroom windows. It ranks as the top session for 2007 and the best christening I’ve ever given a new pad. On another front, the HOE and I are having communications issues, since I didn’t feel it necessary to spend quality time with him while in Puerto Rico. I didn’t think that a last-minute decision to join the San Juan festivities granted him the opportunity to pull me away from the friends and fun I had planned for over six months. Needless to say, the HOE appears used to having his way, so he’s been pouting since our return. His call last night said he was, “Just checking…” on me and hoped all was well since my return from Puerto Rico. I’ll touch base with him this week and see if ours is a friendship worth nourishing. On a completely unexpected raise-of-an-eyebrow, I think I’m about to have a jump off with my cable guy. I may be off-base here, but here’s how the story goes… A cinnamon-complexioned Dominican cable man with booty and thighs that could stop a tow truck came over 15-minutes late to our 4 p.m. cable installation. When he arrived he ambled around and sighed loudly at having to actually install, rather than just turn on cable, in my apartment. One hour into the ordeal and he managed to poke a hole in my living room molding leaving me gasping for my next breath. He apologized profusely and even grabbed my shoulder and said, he was so sorry, but he would return later that night with putty, etc. and patch it up. He gave me his cell phone number and said he had mine and that he would call later that night. When he called it was after 9 p.m. and my girls and I were at Target loading up on house wares. I told him he could come over while we were putting things away if he wished. He said he would come back the next day, since I sounded busy. Yesterday when he called and said he had stopped by, but I wasn’t home, I said, I just walked in the door. He said, “I’m a few blocks away, so why don’t I come back by and take care of plugging up those holes.” Odd choice of words, but my boy J’Moo and I continued putting up blinds and I ignored the comment. When he arrived, putty in hand, he looked at J’Moo walked to the busted molding, feigned some patchwork and said, “I’m going to need different putty to patch this. I’ll come back tomorrow night. Would that be alright?” I looked at J’Moo and back at the cable guy and said, “Sure, but I work tomorrow, so it’ll have to be after 7:30 p.m.” He said, “Cool, I’ll hit you up tomorrow and come by tomorrow night.” What can I say….I’m going to let the cable guy finish his job.
I hate it when gay men make more of casual interactions with straight men than what is really there. Case in point, I checked and double-checked myself with the cable guy to insure I wasn’t reading more into things than I should. When he refused to patch up the hole when I had company, but was all smiles and fun when we were alone, I began to get suspicious. Hey, maybe the guy is just friendly and private about his work… right?
Have you ever misread a casual interaction as a come-on or flirtation, only to find your cables were crossed?
Keep passin’ the open windows…