A whirlwind of activity starting back two Fridays ago. Laundry. Oil Change. No time to pack, just bring all the clean laundry with me. Hmm, what’s up with the cable modem. I’ll deal with that when I get back. San Francisco to pick up
John and I drove down to see
My visit with Phideaux was fun. We talked about music, and he showed me this five-CD set of Frank Zappa MP3s he had purchased from some website in the Ukraine. I was his entire collection of recorded music from the 1960s through 1992. I was pretty blown away by this.
Frank’s relationship with BJ Sexpigs is just as weird and volatile as ever. BJ is mercurial to say the least, moving between nice, sweet, hospitable other-pleaser to yelling, screaming, violence-threatening monster. Tuesday night, at dinner, BJ threatened Frank with violence. I was so upset by this that on the one-block walk back to Frank’s apartment, I nearly vomited. I told Frank that I would never see BJ again, because refuse to let that sort of person stay in my life. NO MORE DRAMA!
The next morning, I drove to Tucson. Eight hours of at first the escape from Los Angeles, then the drive through the bland suburbs of Riverside county, then into the deserts near Palm Springs, on into the more desolate edge of California, then into Arizona, with its clean rest stops but dull beauty. I knew I was approaching Phoenix because of the shiny brown sky. Truly, it looked like some polished stone – a solid wall of brown rock. On arriving in Tucson, I checked in to the host hotel, unpacked my car, and headed off to Coffee Hour with the local bears.
Thursday was full of fun, and more sex than I had ever experienced at Fiesta. In past years, I was with Rick, or too shy, or something else would be holding me back. This year, single and embarking on a new direction in life, I gave myself permission to be as sexual as I wanted. So, first I had a fun little encounter in the hotel’s weight room adjacent to the pool with a man whom I had admired for many years at Tucson. Later, I invited a wonderful man from San Luis Obispo, California, to my room for some domination. It was fun to lead him around on his knees while he kept trying to gobble my cock. He also seemed to get off of being slapped pretty hard across the face. Well, after he and I finished with some cuddling, I headed back down to the hot tub, where I met a fellow from Boise, Idaho, who fucked my bottom for hours with a viagra-enhanced flagpole penis.
All of that was fun, but it was an encounter with a man on Friday that made the entire weekend for me.
It was early afternoon, and I was lounging in a chaise, doing my best to look like the diva that I am, when I heard a voice ask “Are you from Sacramento?” I looked up from my repose to see who spoke to me, and I saw some of the most incredibly piercing blue eyes looking back at me. I caught my breath.
“Yes, I’m from Sacramento,” I replied, smiling. “I’m Paul.”
“I know,” the stranger said, “weren’t you at a slum-bear party three summers ago? You were only there for a few minutes, dropping off something.”
He remembers me from an obscure bear event in Sacramento from three years ago? Well, it wasn’t three years ago, as I discovered as we talked more, but it was two summers ago, when I was having to drop off some ice coolers to the party that had last been used at my house for another club event. It was one of the nights of Trash Film Orgy http://www.trashfilmorgy.com/ and I h
ad to be there to run the backstage. Still, that he remembered me from a two minute encounter from such a distance in time impressed me.
We spent a good chunk of the weekend together, talking and making love. And yes, I say making love because it had none of the qualities I always associate with a random hook-up. We share a remarkably similar way of looking at the world, and I appreciated the stories of his life’s adventures. He lives in Pacifica, California, just south of San Francisco, and works as a project manager of a low-income housing development non-profit. I think we are going to become and remain good friends.
The Cyber-Amish pie ceremony went off without a hitch, considering the nervousness I felt without Ed the Bishop there to keep me together for it. 86 bears proceeded to the restaurant, chanting and carrying candles, strolling down the Broadway Avenue to the Broadway Cafe for this annual unofficial event of Fiesta.
That high was followed later that Sunday night by an all night encounter with David, my new friend from Pacifica. We didn’t get to sleep until around 0430, but I earned those rug-burns 
The two of us lunched at the Old Pueblo Grille, where we stared into each other’s eyes the entire lunch. It’s funny how intimate and intense such a thing can be. I took him to the airport to pick up a rental car for the remainder of his stay in Tucson. He is staying there until this coming Saturday. We kissed and embraced at the airport, and I drove off to start my 16-hour drive back to Sacramento.
I never had a bear run romance before, and now I understand why. I’m already somewhat tender-hearted at the moment, and now I feel a sense of hopefulness that is somewhat useless. He’s in an open partnership with his husband, so there’s not much chance of anything developing on the romantic front. And even if he was single, my current emotional state is hardly the most conducive to such a thing. So, I will try to be his friend if he’ll have me for one.
The drive back was long, rainy, then foggy. I returned to Sacramento at 0500 after that all night marathon, feeling exhilirated, exhausted, and ready for massage school later that evening.
The journey has begun.
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