Saturday, March 11, 2006

It Lives

I never would have imagined I would regain those feelings you get when you are younger and in lust. The feelings I mean are akin to dropping a bowling ball on your relaxed stomach while you are laying down, shooting your legs up with novicaine and drawing the breath out of you like the Grim Reaper. I can't recall ever really going with these feelings and hooking up with the person with whom I experienced them from. Once, when I was 17, I was a messenger for the summer in Lower Manhattan. Unlike the other messengers you would see around bearing bike gear or carrying one of those boxy suitcases, I worked for this respectable place where I had a cool attache case and I wore a tie. My deliveries were mostly to import/export shipping offices which were all located in and around the World Trade Center.
After a week or two of walking up and down lower Manhattan you would recognize repeat people, which is kind of weird considering the magnitude of the square miles and the people within them.
I was still a virgin by this time in both genders, but I was more educated. I had a stash of porno mags and after 12 years of Private Catholic School which stunted my sexual education education as well as explorations, I knew more than ever and was eager to act on my feelings towards either sex. I thought.
My first foray was with this other messenger. he dressed as well as me, but I would always see him walking around. He was a great looking Latino guy, my age, great olive skin and black oily hair. Kind of a pre-pube moustache and a great Romanesque nose (one of my favorite facial features). He attracted me enough so that when I first noticed him I got a little flushed with attraction and when I turned around 10 feet later to see which direction he was going in, he turned and stared at me. I nearly fainted on the spot and when I had to double check if it was me he was looking at again, 5 feet more down the line, he turned and I had to sit down.
Now, maybe "Juan" was more adept at this than me in the cruising department, because if I knew than what I know now...
This continued for about 2 months. Everyday I would scan the busy streets looking for a glimpse of the attache he would carry or I would retrace the places where we would infrequently pass. I had a sighting about every three or four days and after each one I told myself I was going to say 'hey' or 'what's up' or in my wildest scenario's I would just stop him, grab his hand and duck into battery Park for a make out session and more.
I had about two weeks left on my job before I went to college and I wanted so bad for something to materialize. I was in one of the WTC towers which I knew like the back of my hand. I had to pee, so I went to a floor which I knew was completely vacant, construction crews were remodeling this floor and all the bathrooms were unlocked. I got in the express elevator that would whoosh you up to 79 or so and transferred to the 'local' that would take me to 87. As I was getting off the local @ 87 he was getting on. I stood there, completely wrecked of all possible functions of how to proceed with this "GIFT ENCOUNTER". I stared at him for what seemed like a minute but in real time was only a second or two as I let him get on the elevator and another second later, I got off.

Long Story Short
I was walking down the street in Queens the other day and feeling pretty good. I saw this total hottie approaching (rare in this particular area) from about 20 feet away. I checked him out for a good second or two and worked my way up to his eyes which were consequently doing the same to me. All of a sudden, those feelings of the novicaine and the bowling ball from the above story came flooding back. Feelings I thought I was too grown up to ever feel again. Too jaded to ever feel again. And you know what, I am so glad I can feel again.

Acceptance Speech if their was an award for this story
I would thank the makers of Welbutrin, Lexipro, my Therapist, the Medicaid System for allowing me to afford these drugs, My New Fuck Buddy and God.