Real Talk: I have been trying to write this post for like a week now, but life got in the way and there were some speed bumps. Sorry bout it.
More Real Talk: I am currently watching "Hoarders: Buried Alive." There is a gay man who is on here and I am astonished for multiple reasons: 1. Gay men are too fabulous for real people problems. (It's just a fact. I don't make the rules) 2. He has mentioned his Gucci shoes three times in the first 20 minutes....he is in the MIDDLE of a show exposing his mental illness and that bitty needs to let people know he's got fancy shoes. PROPS.
Ok, lets get to the damn story already! So last week I was on vacation with the fam in the little beach town we have been vacationing in since before I was born, Ogunquit, ME. What is so terrific about this town is that it likes to call itself the Provincetown of Maine. For those of you who don't understand what that means, basically its just a super gay artsy town. (Yes. My parents have been frickin' liberal as crap since before I was born. Yes, they were okay with the gays back then. I am the least angst filled person to walk this rainbow filled world.)
Since I was an anti-gay gay up until a couple years ago, this was the first time I was going to Ogunquit as a proud glitter card carrying member of the community. I was uber-excited to see how things were going to pan out and see how my family would react to the new level of fabulousness that I was going to spew on them as we spent seven days in a 3 bedroom apartment. As the trip began we spent several days laying on the beach and soaking up the rays, sporadically making trips to the gym and walking along the beach. My favorite thing about the beach there is that as you are walking along and see all the lovely families and people playing games, there is an imaginary wall that you hit at some point and then its like you have entered a city that only has men living there. Tons of men in varying sizes of bathing suits playing their own types of games and giving off all sorts of wonderful and happy vibes. (I.was.in.heaven.)
Day two of the vacation I walk into the Village Mart and I was accosted by signs for all of the events that are happening in Ogunquit through out the summer. The thing that stood out the most was a sign for a drag show at one of the many gay bars in town. I began to tweaking. Like bugging out. I took photos of it and started emailing to my family. (I am still confused at why I acted like I found leprechaun's gold, being that I was in the land of rainbows). My older brothers girlfriend (Yes the practically married brother) has very similar feelings towards drag queens that I do and immediately decided we needed to incorporate this outing into our trip. What was even better was both of my brothers were completely down for venturing into the land of the unknown, seeing as the older broseph hasn't been to a gay bar in quite some time and the younger one had yet to ever walk into one. What better way to bring them into my world than with a little drag?
(She has NOTHING to do with this post. I got ADD and started looking up drag queens and had to share. Aren't you GLAAD I did? Get it...get what I did there?)
Well by the time the drag show was descending upon us I was all in a hizzy. I made sure to buy a completely new outfit, down to brand spankin' new Calvin Klein under garments (Just like Marty McFly!). I was acting like I had just come out and this was my big debut to the world. Which was amusing because as soon as we got to the bar, I was "too cool" and decided to take care of my "naive" brothers, who are fine fending for themselves. As soon as I had my signature gin and tonic in hand I was ret-to-go!
The show was fabulous. She was really terrific and all over the place and was HIGHsterical. Since she was the only woman in the show, she would periodically take breaks and do trivia. Joanna would call random people on stage to compete against each other for random prizes. I thought it would be fun (read: I was drunk and giggled to myself) to point at my older brother flamboyantly in order to get him up on stage. "HA HA HA....look at the straight trivia master! We should have him compete! Dance Monkey, dance!" -- It's what I was thinking, not necessarily saying. Well, little did I know my flamboyant foils were turned against me and I was called on stage.
Now, based off of the outrageousness of most of my life, you might think that getting on a stage in front of a group of gay men, straight women, and some variation of that might sound like a good time to me. Normally you would be correct...but you are DEAD wrong here. I am terrible attrivia and I am not just saying that. I am the worst person to have on your trivia team...I become like Mitt Romney talking to poor people...silent and perplexed. I forget everything from my name to how many Britney albums are currently available for purchase. (That hurt to type...but it's true).
Anywhoz, I saunter up there trying to figure out my plan of attack and just as I reached the stage I went completely blank. Joanna began asking questions and I tried to buzz in (which was with a rubber chicken...we had to "choke the chicken" to buzz in. SUPER family friendly show) but failed miserably. I failed so badly that I was called out for being so horrible. I attempted to make jokes with the audience. My feeble attempts seemed win over enough people, that as I was leaving the stage I got several high fives and a few hugs...despite answering nothing right.
After the show had finished, my little group made our way to the deck bar and began drinkin' dranks and chatting it up with some of the locals. I became besties with the young cute bartender (Shockkker) and found out his life story (double shockerrr). Then this cute lesbian couple came barreling out with a fairly attractive Vermont (VT) Mountain Man who was right behind them. They complimented me on my ineptness and shared a few drinks and laughs with us.
(Not actually him...but definitely not far off...)
After a gin and tonic or two, we all can assume that I am more prone to fall in love...and boy did I. I side-eyed my brothers as they tried to interrupt and even kept VT away from his friends. Slowly, his friends decided to leave and then my brothers and the bro's lady decided it was time for them to leave.
Bros: We're leaving...lets go.
Me: I'll walk home thank you very much.
Bros: Umm...it's like a mile and a half back, and there are no cabs.
Me: Pffft, thats not bad. I walk that in my sleep
Bros: That doesn't seem right...are you sure?
Me: Yeah, I love the outdoors
Fact: I do not love the outdoors
They left me, high and dry, for the comfort of the hotel and their beds. I, on the other hand, was in the company of someone who roamed the mountains of the Northeast. (I just made that up...I pride myself on being honest with you guys and to be honest...the very end of the time at the bar is a bit...hazy, if you will so I don't completely remember what he does for a living. Roaming sounds accurate). VT thought it might be a good idea for us to take a walk and see what types of things were around. He needed to ski-da-ddle to the bathroom before heading out. I went to close out my tab and had an interesting convo with the cute bartender.
Bartender: So we have been talking about you a bit
Me: We?
*Bartender points to a gaggle of gays in the corner of the bar*
Me: Oh, well how kind of you to talk?
Bartender: We think you can do better than VT, a lot better.
Me: Is it because he is a rough and tumble Mountain Man?
Bartender: What? Wait...no. You are just very attractive and you can do better.
Me: BAHAHAHA....ok where is Ashton? I've been Punk'd right? Ashton you dirty bastard!
Bartender: Ashton? What? Ok, whatever...just thought I'd put it out there. Nice meeting you.
I literally lol'd hard at that one. Then decided it was time for me to move to New England for good. In ALL of my years as an Out gentleman of the South, I have never, ever, been told that. Confidence was at an all time medium level, so I was feeling good. Did this warning stop or deter me from going on a walk with VT? Helllzzzz to the naw. I was just holding my head a tiny bit higher (but not too much....the gin really ways you down).
As we roamed around town we decided to walk down to the beach to chat and walk. (WHY AM I SO OUTDOORSY AT THE BEACH?) Which turned into us mackin' it as soon as we walked beyond the last bit of the light cascading over the sand from the edge of the parking lot. In between our ridiculousness and general care-free fashion that we adopted when it came to laying on the beach, we would look at the stars and start talking. Now, talking has never gone anywhere good for me and my relationships, but when a man, like me, is drunk on life, drunk on being on gaycation, and drunk on gin...you forget the basics.
VT: I have to get up early tomorrow to pick up my son. You are keeping me out so late!
Me: Yeah I have to be up early to....wait....WTF YOU HAVE A KID?? You're too young to have a child.
VT: Yes? He's 6...how old do you think I am?
(Now, this never bodes well for me...when I saw him in the bar I thought he was like 28. I had also made best friends with the bottom of my gin and tonic cup...)
Me: Well....you know....an age....around....28?
VT: Hahaha I'm 35
Welp, there we go. He is now the oldest person I have ever made out with (Not the oldest person who has ever courted me...haha that makes me sound classy), but he had a young looking mountain beard...totally not my fault. I decided to ignore his age and try and focus on the surroundings. We were on the beach, looking at the stars, talking about things I was positive I wouldn't remember but felt really deep at the time.
Facts: I did say at one point "I don't even care that we are laying on the sand and it is getting everywhere" More facts: I hate being dirty or sandy or muddy. Apparently, whilst intoxicated, all of my preconceived notions of being dirty or sandy or muddy go out the door. The next morning ended up being interesting as I emptied the entire beach into the shared shower my family entire family used...but that's neither here nor there.
Then I decided to get inquisitive about this whole kid thing, because down here in the south that usually means that there is a Baby Mama involved. That also means you have recently come out and have a great deal of baggage. I began to get concerned that this was his first foray into the gay world and I was going to be his first conquest...because I specialize in irrational fears and concerns in the middle of the most intimate of moments. (seriously...why am I single?) Now, we all know I have no issues with children, well not any more...but I like to know the back story.
Me: So...the kid thing...that's, like, a big deal
VT: Yeah, having shared custody isn't the most fun thing in the world. But, the divorce was necessary. I've been single for a year and a half now.
Me: Wow, it's good you got out then. How long were you married to her?
VT: Her? Why would I be married to a woman, I'm gay. I was married to a man, for 6 years. We adopted our son when he was 6 days old.
WHAT?!?!?! HOW?!?! WHEN DID GAY PEOPLE START MARRYING?!?!
That's right folks, up there in New England, them there Yankees let the gayz get married and have for quite awhile. Long enough for a 6 year marriage to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. My mind was boggled and I had a difficult time explaining that having a kid down south meant a whole slew of issues from baby mama drama to dealing with closet cases.
VT and I stayed on that beach from midnight until 3am having a romantical vacation fling. We even discussed the possibility of visiting each other. Reality wouldn't set in until midway through the next day that this was nothing more than a fun moment in time, rather than a real possibility.
While I was up there, I did realize that I needed to move to New England at some point in my life. I also realized that (maybe it was the ocean water) there were a lot of white men I found attractive. I KNOW! Shocker. I am shocked. I am still processing. My world was rocked. Shhhhh just let it happen. VT Mountain Man really had quite the impact on me....
Vermont Mountain Man: Burly and deceptively young looking
White Men: New Possibilities?
New England: My new Gay Mecca
Fabulously Lost: Still covered in sand...
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