Tongue in Whose Cheek?
What happened yesterday could be seen in two different ways. In the first interpretation, the man on the bus was drunk but sincere in his flirtations. In the second, the man was drunk and trying to get a reaction out of me, just for fun.
Here's what happened:
I got on the bus, and headed for the back, as I always do. Sitting on one side in the back row was a young black man, about my age, with a large suitcase, a bottle of Alizé Cognac (check out their website; alizé is conspicuously marketed to the black population.) and a diskman which he was constantly fumbling with -- taking his earphones out and in, changing tracks, and so on. He was wearing baggy clothes and a black do-rag, and had a lip ring and a nose ring. From here on, I'll just call him "Alizé."
As I approached him, he looked at me a gave a sort of nervous chuckle. At first I thought he was laughing at my appearance and was about to be offended when I noticed that at least a quarter of his bottle of alizé was gone. I sat down opposite him and started reading my book and minding my own business. Actually, I was pretty into the story (a Sherlock Holmes story) and was pretty engrossed in my book, when Alizé says, "You look so serious readin' that book! must be something daangerous in there..."
I gave him a quizzical look and said, "No, it's Sherlock Holmes... very interesting stuff."
I tried to assume body language that said "Don't disturb me, I'm trying to solve a murder mystery." But it didn't work. In spite of the fact that he was listening to music and I had a book, he seemed compelled to talk to me at regular intervals.
"So this Los Altos place, is it a pretty cool town?"
"You mean Los Gatos? Los Gatos is nice in it's own way. I like that it's so close to nature."
a few mintues pass.
"So you live in Los Alt -- no what's it called? Los Alg.. Ga.. Los Gatas?"
"Yeah. I moved here pretty recently. I'm going to school in San Jose."
a minute later.
"You ever had Alizé? Oh man it's deeLICious! Here, why don't you try some?
"No thanks."
"You sure. Man it's good. Once you try it you'll never go back. heh. like once you go back you'll never go black. no it's the other way haw... once you go black you never go back."
"Hmm well I'll keep that in mind. I do like Cognac. Maybe I'll try it next time I get some.
(Note: all the traditional cognacs I've ever seen have been gold, or yellow, or brown, or some similar color. alizé cognac is strawberry pink, and opaque. No way I'm trying that shit.)
Another minute goes by and he says
"I just have to say this: you are very handsome. I'm not trying to hit on you or nothing, but I just had to say so."
"Oh.. well, thanks. umm I think it's mainly because of this coat."
I was referring to my navy-issue Pea Coat, which Maddy has told me I look rather dashing in.
"No no!" Says Alizé, "It's your face. You're very handsome."
"I dunno... I think I have a pretty big nose..."
"You?! Yo I have a big nose! Look at this thing! No you have very nice features."
"Ok, well, thanks for the complement."
I returned to my book. It wasn't the first time I'd been complimented by a gay man. In fact I have reason to believe I'm more often found attractive by men than women. Considering the relatively small number of gay men in the world, compared to the number of straight women, I've been made aware of a gay man liking my looks far more times than I've been aware of a woman liking them -- even enough to make up for the fact that women in general tend to be more reticent about that sort of thing.
The ride continued, with a few more brief question and answer sessions, about the local area, mainly. And a few more exhortations that I try some of his liquor. At one point, when describing why I chose to live in Los Gatos (he eventually got it right) I mentioned that I used to live in San Francisco.
"San Francisco? Wow I'll bet you got flirted with all the time up there..."
I think to myself, no, no I didn't. That's odd. In spite of my previous statement about being liked by gays, I don't think I was ever once hit on in San Francisco. Maybe I'm wrong. Still, this was besides the point.
"Well," I replied, "I think people just flirt a lot in general in San Francisco." I thought about flashing my wedding ring, but at this point, I was hoping he'd explain something if I let him go far enough.
As we pulled into the metro station, I put my book away, and he said, "It's been nice talkin to you." To be polite, I replied, "Yeah, you too." And as I walked past him towards the door of the bus, he said, "and you really are beautiful."
"Thanks." I said, over my shoulder. The was the last I saw or heard from Alizé.
Here's what happened:
I got on the bus, and headed for the back, as I always do. Sitting on one side in the back row was a young black man, about my age, with a large suitcase, a bottle of Alizé Cognac (check out their website; alizé is conspicuously marketed to the black population.) and a diskman which he was constantly fumbling with -- taking his earphones out and in, changing tracks, and so on. He was wearing baggy clothes and a black do-rag, and had a lip ring and a nose ring. From here on, I'll just call him "Alizé."
As I approached him, he looked at me a gave a sort of nervous chuckle. At first I thought he was laughing at my appearance and was about to be offended when I noticed that at least a quarter of his bottle of alizé was gone. I sat down opposite him and started reading my book and minding my own business. Actually, I was pretty into the story (a Sherlock Holmes story) and was pretty engrossed in my book, when Alizé says, "You look so serious readin' that book! must be something daangerous in there..."
I gave him a quizzical look and said, "No, it's Sherlock Holmes... very interesting stuff."
I tried to assume body language that said "Don't disturb me, I'm trying to solve a murder mystery." But it didn't work. In spite of the fact that he was listening to music and I had a book, he seemed compelled to talk to me at regular intervals.
"So this Los Altos place, is it a pretty cool town?"
"You mean Los Gatos? Los Gatos is nice in it's own way. I like that it's so close to nature."
a few mintues pass.
"So you live in Los Alt -- no what's it called? Los Alg.. Ga.. Los Gatas?"
"Yeah. I moved here pretty recently. I'm going to school in San Jose."
a minute later.
"You ever had Alizé? Oh man it's deeLICious! Here, why don't you try some?
"No thanks."
"You sure. Man it's good. Once you try it you'll never go back. heh. like once you go back you'll never go black. no it's the other way haw... once you go black you never go back."
"Hmm well I'll keep that in mind. I do like Cognac. Maybe I'll try it next time I get some.
(Note: all the traditional cognacs I've ever seen have been gold, or yellow, or brown, or some similar color. alizé cognac is strawberry pink, and opaque. No way I'm trying that shit.)
Another minute goes by and he says
"I just have to say this: you are very handsome. I'm not trying to hit on you or nothing, but I just had to say so."
"Oh.. well, thanks. umm I think it's mainly because of this coat."
I was referring to my navy-issue Pea Coat, which Maddy has told me I look rather dashing in.
"No no!" Says Alizé, "It's your face. You're very handsome."
"I dunno... I think I have a pretty big nose..."
"You?! Yo I have a big nose! Look at this thing! No you have very nice features."
"Ok, well, thanks for the complement."
I returned to my book. It wasn't the first time I'd been complimented by a gay man. In fact I have reason to believe I'm more often found attractive by men than women. Considering the relatively small number of gay men in the world, compared to the number of straight women, I've been made aware of a gay man liking my looks far more times than I've been aware of a woman liking them -- even enough to make up for the fact that women in general tend to be more reticent about that sort of thing.
The ride continued, with a few more brief question and answer sessions, about the local area, mainly. And a few more exhortations that I try some of his liquor. At one point, when describing why I chose to live in Los Gatos (he eventually got it right) I mentioned that I used to live in San Francisco.
"San Francisco? Wow I'll bet you got flirted with all the time up there..."
I think to myself, no, no I didn't. That's odd. In spite of my previous statement about being liked by gays, I don't think I was ever once hit on in San Francisco. Maybe I'm wrong. Still, this was besides the point.
"Well," I replied, "I think people just flirt a lot in general in San Francisco." I thought about flashing my wedding ring, but at this point, I was hoping he'd explain something if I let him go far enough.
As we pulled into the metro station, I put my book away, and he said, "It's been nice talkin to you." To be polite, I replied, "Yeah, you too." And as I walked past him towards the door of the bus, he said, "and you really are beautiful."
"Thanks." I said, over my shoulder. The was the last I saw or heard from Alizé.