Baltimore 'Bator

Something else I wanted to share with you guys. Not only am I starting my new job on Monday, but Sunday afternoon I'll be meeting an old chat buddy face-to-face over coffee in DC. The guy used to be in Texas, but a month or so back he relocated to Baltimore, and apparently he's had some trouble adjusting to the new environs. (My lesbian buddy Amy in NYC had lived in Bawlmer for a spell, and swore that John Waters' films like Polyester and Pink Flamingos, which take place in and around that city, are not so much camp comedies as they are documentaries.) So I suggested that we get together this weekend and hang out in Dupont Circle for a while to get acquainted.

Naturally, I want to do what I can to help him establish a new circle of friends, because believe me, I know how it hurts to be lonesome when you know you've got so much good stuff in you to share. And since Washington's gay scene is big enough to draw men from all over Maryland and Virginia, I figured that regular visits to DC might not be a bad way for the transplanted Texan to find other Baltimore guys.

But I must confess -- and it shames me -- that my motives are not wholly altruistic! Re-reading the chat transcript I linked to above reminded me of all the time I spent joyously lusting for this dude's stiff, hairy penis via the Internet while he was in Austin and I was in New York. So now I'm really excited -- as in, throbbing up while I type this -- at the possibility of finally getting naked with this guy in person and having some fun. I've got this scene that's been running through my head of the two of us taking our shirts off and rubbing chest-to-chest as we stand there with our pants tented out, looking each other in the eyes and thinking, ''Well, finally...''