sporadic fulfilment

delaying the denoument.

yesterday's resolution of examining my motives regarding the whole sex thing was completely shot to hell in what i guess is now my typical fashion: i go out & have my first one night stand.

after moping around for a couple of hours, i lost interest (but not before eating a whole bag of chips) & started reading the weeks-worth of newspapers that i've let pile up in my room, found a listing for a midnight screening of an art house film about transformation, went to see it & was suitably perplexed, had a bunch of change left & so spent it on a large cup of coffee to keep me awake on the way back home.

by then, it's almost 3 in the morning but it turns out there's a party going on in the basement of my building & my flatmate figures it's a good time to get me formally introduced to the neighbors. i go down there in my hyper-caffeinated state & it's a regular debauchery-and-rock 'n' roll kind of party but they've just run out of booze so i'm sitting there on the couch all twitchy & get meet-and-greeted by an absurd shitload of people who i'm sure don't remember me either. it is somewhere then when i get my first kiss from a girl. it was on the forehead, though.

watching drunk people (& compulsively righting knocked-over pieces of furniture) is no fun so i (quite logically) accept the invitation of some guy-with-his-ass-falling-out-of-his-pants' invitation to go back to his friends' place where there's still beer to be had. i mean, i had my pointy-toed, balls-kicking boots on & they seemed to be a pretty harmless trio: totally wasted & limp: i could take care of myself.

then followed several hours of listening to them crack themselves up, talk about snowboarding, & watch hockey with running commentary. all to a background soundtrack of johnny cash & random reggae songs. i would have long since left if during all this one guy didn't pull out his little baggie of coke & start offering bumps all around. ass-guy [i feel kinda bad dubbing him that: he's an ok sort, intelligent & all that. plus, looks-wise, he instantly goes from a 5 to an 8 with the removal of his stupid crocheted toque...] snorted one & i declined my share (aren't y'all proud of me?) & decided to stick around out of curiosity to witness what was turning into an increasingly 'national geographic'-esque scenario: White Boy Crackheads from the Wilds of Vancouver. tres exotic.

my hosts had seen fit to give me only a single can of beer, quickly drank & not nearly enough to cancel out the caffeine, so i was totally lucid & Awake as the morning wore on & order declined. i was more or less ignored by ass-guy's buddies (who'd split the baggie amongst themselves) except for when they decided to lock us out on the balcony & then pass out -- & the brief horrorshow moment when one of the guys got the brilliant (& no doubt coke-inspired) idea of nailing the bathroom door shut "to give us some privacy."

believe me when i say that having the greater part of a 4" nail suddenly appear in the door *this* close to one's ear puts a bit of a damper on things.

a couple of hours later, with a breakfast/condom-run intermission, we lie down in the middle of the main room's floor for a post-coital nap; the other guys have long since passed out in opposite corners of the room. [sad to say, the dirty industrial carpeting was more comfortable than the mattress (so busted up you can see -- not to mention feel -- the individual springs) i have in my room.]

the anticlimatic end: we wake up, hang out a bit, say our see-ya-later's, & part ways.

at least he's seen brokeback mountain on his own so i don't have to drag him to the theater.

posted by malachi trizec @ 10:48 p.m.