I wrote this story about ten months ago, but failed to finish it. Didn't seem worthy of my time at the time. As I'm feeling relatively uninspired at the moment and looking for something to do, I thought I'd post it, unfinished. Enjoy...
It all began with a casual nod of acknowledgment from across
the bowling alley. It was approximately 3am and the crowd of mostly young white
backpackers had begun to slowly disperse. We were in Laos, specifically in Luang
Prabang. One of the guys raised a glass to which I shrugged and raised an
empty. Seeing that, he waved me over. I accepted although I was happily lubricated and needed no additional fuel to keep the fire burning. My group had
scattered anyway and I was practically twiddling my thumbs or would have been
had I not been consuming cheap, mind-numbing Lao whiskey.
The bearded friend now appeared to be getting intimate with
the girl we had previously determined to be rather repulsive. The dreaded
friend was off gallivanting with the gal he had been banging a month before in
Cambodia as they had just reunited only hours before after nearly a month
hiatus. The other curly, long-haired fellow was off chatting with somebody,
making new friends as he so often did. And I had unknowingly been left alone as
the alcohol began to settle and I failed to perceive the emptying chairs around
me. I’m that interesting.
It turns out the table of Lao dudes I was now getting
acquainted with had no desire for female companionship. That explained why they were so friendly. At least they weren't backpackers. I’d had
enough of those conversations for the evening. Where are you from? How long are
you traveling for? Where are you going next? Dude, we’re in Laos!! So,
conversing with someone of a different culture and sexual identity was a
refreshing change. No testosterone being thrown around and no one-upping the
next guy with a superior traveling tale. Not that I remember any of the
conversation. Actually I only recollect throwing back a couple glasses of
Beerlao.
In any case, it got late and people were leaving. Put, this
fit Lao dude with a slightly acne-riddled face offered to drive me home. Oh, no thanks, I replied. I’ll just get a tuk-tuk with my friends.
I glanced around to see only the bearded one who was still intently conversing
with the one with whom he’d end up watching the sunrise. So I changed my mind
and agreed to the ride in part to save the fifty cents and in part because I
figured I could take him in the event he tried to sodomize me without my
consent.
We ended up driving down what seemed to be every street in
the neighborhood of my guesthouse, but we couldn’t find it. We had just arrived
that evening in the dark, checked-in hastily and quickly departed to enjoy the
few hours that remained to help forget the long, leg-cramping bus rides we had
endured since earlier that morning and to celebrate the bearded one’s
birthday. It also didn’t help that I had
relinquished the business card to a friend who needed the name of the GH
earlier in the evening. I knew it began with an S, but they all seemed to and none of them looked the same. I knew
it was in there somewhere, south of the temple on the hill and near the Pousi
Hotel, but it wasn’t.
Put was patient yet persistent in inviting me to come with
him and have another drink. I repeatedly declined. There was no incentive. I
need to have some kind of motivation to drink when I’m tired and a guy with a
rectum sweating at the thought of intercourse didn’t do it for me. I would have
been quite fine just getting out and wandering around til I found the place,
but he wouldn’t have that. Instead, he offered a place to sleep at his bar, not
his bed fortunately, and that sounded ok to me. Ok.
It was a little weird, but considering the circumstances,
acceptable. So I accepted the offer after clarifying my own sexuality and
otherwise saying that I wasn’t looking for an anal massage that evening. He did
persist as any guy does after a woman says no. With one hand on the steering
wheel and one on my thigh he drove to his place. I didn’t immediately push off
his hand to allow him some time to grieve about this missed opportunity. That
is, until his hand started to creep under my shorts and further down my thigh.
Then with no further hesitation, I clamped down and removed his hand from the
premises. I had to remind him again of my sexual preference, as if he had
forgotten and ask questions about Lao girls, about which I really wasn’t
wondering. Good for him for trying, he’s a man, that’s what we all do well –
gay or straight. Sometime that persistence will pay off, but not tonight.
I didn't really see where this story was headed so I lost interest in wrapping it up. Suffice it to say, I woke up, rectum intact, and decided to get home as quickly as possible. In order to do that, I had to find my new friend. I went upstairs, knocked on his door and an older, overweight white dude opened the door. Umm, good morning. Turns out it was his ex-boyfriend and partner in the bar business. Ok, I'm ready to go home now!
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