Let's see... so thursday night Ken hung out with me. Somehow, and I'm not exactly sure how, we wound up going down into Rock Creek Park (the park between Dupont Circle and Georgetown) around 11 pm. Basically Ken had never seen DC's most infamous "cruising parks" so I figured we'd play tourguide and tourist and go for a little walk. Yes, I know this is the same park where Chandra Levy was found chopped up...
Anyway, we go down into the locally-dubbed "P Street Beach" area, and there's a couple guys cruising, a guy whiping his dick out, the sounds of belt-buckles unfastening and pants dropping. In other words the usual stuff. Well we walk in the other direction toward the Q Street bridge and Ken tells me he has to take a piss. So I walk away to give him his privacy. So I walk aways up the trail and I'm standing by myself when all of the sudden 4 men appear out of the darkness and are saying something provocative to me. I pretend like I'm not interested and start to step back and they come closer to me.
And that's when all four start running toward me. Folloing my instincts, I immediately dart through the trees towards where I left Ken. I catch up to him, still being chased by four muscle-queens, tell him we gotta get the fuck out of here, and start this mad race through the dark not knowing where we're going, but we're going, still being chased.
We somehow emerged from the park behind the big church on 23rd St. As we spilled into the well-lit street, our chasers stopped following us and turned back.
There's a lesson in there somewhere.
Later we hung out in Adams Morgan reminiscing over our little adventure with all the drunks along 18th St. It was only the beginning of the long weekend.
Friday night I did quite a bit of cooking that evening (recipes forthcoming) since Friday has become Adam's cooking day. Still a bit shook up by my almost-rape/murder the night before, I had coffee with Ken, Bob, and Kurt. And surprisingly with the four of us at one table there was no drama. It was actually really nice!
Saturday I went with Ken (Bob was supposed to go, but didn't) to this hookah-bar called Oasis Cafe. I love hookahs! Over puffs of scented tobacco and descent Arabic food, Ken and I caught up on a lot of shit. Later we went to Soho and met up with Raven and Seth. This brings me to a story...
But first I'd like to interrupt with a random picture of my celebrity crush. Chris Carrabba... I'm going to start the Chris Carrabba Queerbois Fan Club. Let's have a moment of silence for this..
Moving Right along...Last week a certain guy friend whom I've known for a long time asked me out. Now, I know this guy has liked me for a long time, and there's always been a sexual tension between us. But everytime he makes any sort of move, I'm involved with someone. I guess it's partially my fault too, as I was too chicken to make a move myself. At any rate, I've been seeing this other guy for awhile now (THAT'S a story for another blog entry) and so I had to tell this guy without hurting his feelings (I hope) that I just can't right now.
Sunday I woke up hella-late and was reminded I said I'd go shopping with Margo, Fred, and Ken. We met at Margo's place and went to Chinatown so Margo could peruse the markets for Chinese herbs and teas for her ailments. We were starving for brinner (brunch + dinner = brinner, for those days when you wake up hungover and 3 pm and haven't eaten) so we followed the smell of food into one of the Chinese places for dinner. Pretty good, even though I'm still partial to City Lights on Connecticut Ave. (though admitedly it took me awhile to be able to go back after all those years dating Hitler, I mean, Casey.. it's his favorite restaurant).
Later with Ken I went to Biddy Mulligan's bar in the Jury's hotel on Dupont Circle for drinks with his friends Cary and Steven. Steven's hot...a boxer, well-dressed, handsome. Cary's a very lucky girl! Anyway after that we went for coffee and ran into aformentioned guy who's been asking me out. Based on his little behaviors last night, I really do hope he understands I am TAKEN at the moment.