Hot damn! Barely pubescent boys!
In the San Francisco airport waiting for my thirty minutes delayed flight, I noticed a teenaged boy circling me. He finally got up his nerve, sat down beside me, and asked (in a voice obviously pitched lower than he was normally capable of), "So, are you traveling alone?" I said yes and he proceeded to give his best shot to flirting, until I asked, point blank, "How old are you?" Fourteen, as it turns out. There was a jaw-dropping moment on his side when I established my age as 24, but he recovered quickly, asking if I wanted to hear a joke, although he was very worried it might be a bit off-color for me.
Anyway, what with this and the pool-playing Liverpool school trip in my Barcelona hostel, we seem to have established that I am a. still not looking anywhere near my age, and b. hot shit with the extremely illegal crowd. If only pedophilia was my bag, everything would be coming up roses...
Anyway, what with this and the pool-playing Liverpool school trip in my Barcelona hostel, we seem to have established that I am a. still not looking anywhere near my age, and b. hot shit with the extremely illegal crowd. If only pedophilia was my bag, everything would be coming up roses...