San Francisco: The Main Man!
Well, home again, home again, jiggedy jig. Except, this time I have a handsome Finnish roommate staying with me who has become enamored of daytime television . . . particularly The View.
What the fuck?
Ok, so I’ll tell today’s tale. It’s the first day of my internship at the UCSF Pediatric Brain Center. Orientation took 12 hours today! Meetings with my instructing doctor, meetings with Center Administration to go over rules and policies, meetings to have more meetings. I swear, I spent most of my day in a conference room and only saw one of the floors briefly and that was to go to the bathroom!
They even had lunch brought in because they didn’t want to waste time for a lunch break! Ah-h, the joys of medical service! It was ok though because I felt good about getting a handle on the lay of the land and getting briefed by Dr. Kendra Nelson who would be my instructing doctor. She knows her stuff and seems to be the best at orienting me in General Neurology in practice.
But, needless to say, I was pooped by the time I got home.
There is no way I can face four hours of medical transcription tonight. I’ll have to warm up to the paying job after a bit. Plus . . . I have an amazingly needy boyfriend now! One who seems to be getting bored out of his mind and this after just a few days or so back from Stanford!
I mean, come on! The View for Christ’s sake?
The minute I walk in the door, the bags under my eyes dragging the floor, Snowflake is all over me about what Taylor Swift said about what Justin Bieber did to that singer from Maroon 5 or whatever! Or, there was this girl who was on talking about how she couldn’t afford health care and was going to take the $900 penalty for not having any but she couldn’t afford that and feed her kids too. Oy!
Then, fuck me, he goes into Dr. Phil! That man screwed that man who fucked that person’s mother and now he’s a hoarder or some shit, but it’s ok because he’s a transvestite now!
I sit him down and he’s practically bouncing on the sofa. Didn’t this boy ever watch TV growing up? The lack of physical training seems to be tying my Snowplow up into teeny tiny crazy kooky knots!
So after he settles down a bit upon seeing my dead man’s stare, he finally wakes up to the fact . . . I’m not interested! Brilliant!
“You look exhausted, Brian Baby! Was it a hard first day? Do you want to talk about it orrrr . . .” Then he’s on top of me on the couch kissing my neck. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d have let the games commence, but I was actually too tired for sex. Mental tiredness is the killer of libido from way back. You just can’t get sexually motivated when your brain is fried. The neurotransmitters just aren’t there for it, I guess.
“My! You are tired! You are not even getting hard for me! The neck thing always does that! Your new trainer must be something else! I could never get you that tired even after one of my routines!” He grins at me and then rubs his nose on mine.
God Dayyam, he’s adorable!
“Yeah, Snowballs. It’s been a lo-ong day. What can I say? Twelve hours cooped up in a room pounding rules and regulations into me all day is Headachesville.” I sigh.
“Well, my Butt Blossom, I can help with that!” Snowflake wiggles his eyebrows at me and I can’t suppress a giggle. I guess, I’m in for it whether I’m hard or not. Mr. Dr. Phil-fan here probably wants to turn me into Dr. Phil’s next sideshow. ‘Poor thoroughly exhausted boyfriend raped unmercifully by his Finnish heartthrob lover. News at Eleven.’
He turns me over and I half expect to be pantsed but instead, he slowly removes the shirt of my scrubs to expose my bareback. He smooths his hand enticingly across my shoulders and mid-back. I instantly feel goosebumps! I’d forgotten this skill of his. I forgot . . . he is a master with those hands of his!
“I’ll be right back. Do not go anywhere!” Snowflake says with that deep resonant ‘trainers’ voice. Somehow . . . that always gives me even MORE goosebumps!
I hear him pad back to the couch from back in the hallway from the bathroom, the floor creaking slightly under his weight. I feel that weight settle on the couch next to my legs and I hear a match light!
Ok . . . Um, what the hell?
I thoroughly expect hot wax to start dripping on my back. I swear to Almighty God if I feel that shit, Snowjob is gonna get a pair of sore balls! But . . .
Thankfully, I need to be more trusting of the one who is supposed to be my soulmate. He can be a practical joker at times (that was something of a surprise) but, never in a way that hurts or damages anything.
I have to look over to the coffee table when I hear something catch fire. I see the candle that I thought was going to be the weapon of choice, but I see Snowflake with a stainless steel cup swirling something over the flame. I notice it’s a vanilla-scented candle too. He must have gone shopping because I don’t store scented candles. Maybe he hasn’t been sitting all day in here going bat-fuck insane watching crap TV.
The smell is calming despite my concern over this witch’s brew Snowflake seems to be concocting. He dips his finger in and seems satisfied with whatever the results are. He then takes more of the goop into his hand and rubs them together. I smell eucalyptus oil. Ok . . . now I grin because I know I’m in for a major treat!
“Now, I’m going to put a little massage oil on your back. Let me know if it is too warm.” I feel his finger draw a line on my back and I feel the pleasantly warm eucalyptus oil send nerve impulses all through my pleasure centers.
“Mmm! Perfect!” I say dreamily as I close my eyes and begin melting into the couch cushions and pillow under my head. I hear the smile in Snowflake’s voice.
“Good! Now we make the Headachesvilles go away, jö?” Snowflake says sweetly as he gently begins to rub the oil into my back slowly increasing pressure in all the right spots!
I groan in absolute pleasure! This is encouragement for Snowflake and so he goes to town doing his magic and kneading my tense muscles into oblivion. Like he promised, somehow by unscrewing my gnarled up nerve bundles all up and down my spine, my headache vanishes like I just took a dose of Oxycodone and Valium.
“God I love you so much right now Snowflake!” I sigh contentedly into my pillow. I feel him lean on to my back and I feel a gentle kiss on my neck. He then does that thing with his fingers where he pushes and rotates into the cervical nerve bundles right under the back of my skull and I swear I have a full body orgasm go down my spine!
“Oh, fuck!” I shiver in delight!
“Hehehehehe! You like that do you?” Snowflake giggles in his own delight.
“You get a Brian Chesney Special Blowjob Supreme for that thing you just did! That was WONDERFUL!” I purr.
I get this sudden feeling of déjà vu. I remember Jimmy. I remember this whole scenario! I think I know now where Jimmy picked up all his tricks from!
“Oh my! Such a rich tip from my doctor boyfriend! My hard-working genius!” he kisses me again, this time behind my ear. I shiver again.
“Ain’t a doctor yet, Snowplow. Pretty soon though, I hope. Dr. Nelson seemed to be impressed with my entry scores on my general medicine test. She has high hopes!” I really did feel like a teacher’s pet today.
“How could she not? You are brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!” He punctuates each ‘brilliant’ with a kiss. He is now draped over my back his chin on my shoulder and cheek against my ear. His weight is gently on me and his hard member in his sweats presses neatly into the butt crack of my scrub pants.
“You want that blowjob now, Babe?” I whisper mellowly out of the side of my mouth. I could feel his love twitch a bit at the mere mention of it.
But, “No. Not just now. I am aroused it is true. Massaging always does that to me, particularly with you, but I just want to lay here and just . . . be with you!” So much love rose in my heart at that moment that I nearly started crying.
“Oops! I feel you tensing all up again! I shall have to knead you back down like risen bread! Was it something I said?” Snowflake wonders.
“It’s everything you are. You . . . are everything to me!” I sigh and turn underneath him and we kiss. Just kissing. It’s more than enough. It is . . . everything!
After a while of us just cuddling on the couch together, I feel some of my energy return to me. Then my stomach growls which then makes Snowflake’s stomach growl. It’s funny, our body cycles seem to be in total sync with each other!
“I think it’s time for dinner, Snowplow,” I whisper gently.
“Should we order a pizza? I like that Papa John’s one we had the other night. It was delicious!” Snowflake perks up at the mention of food.
“Oh, Babydoll, that was just emergency rations at Stanford. We had to stuff something in our yaps so we could make the drive up here without fainting. That wasn’t really food!” I say rather derisively. I forget . . . Snowflake thinks Bare Bars are the height of culinary greatness. How he managed to make those exquisite pancakes is beyond me.
He seems confused now. I kiss him and he forgets his question along with who he is for a minute. He gets this wonderfully dopey look on his face. Hehehe!
“No, we need to go somewhere to eat well. You’re in San Francisco now, Snowflake! This is food heaven and despite the Circuit Boys and their anorexia, the Mission District has some great options!” I instruct.
“What are ‘Circuit Boys’? Are they like Twenty-First Century Digital Boys like in that song I heard on the music station today?” Snowflake is asking this deadpan. I crack the hell up.
“What? Why is that funny? I heard this song about Twenty-First Century Digital Boys who can’t read but have a lot of toys! So tragic!” Oh my fucking God, I’m going to die from his cuteness! He has to be putting me on!
Of course, he is. He smiles and starts cracking up with me and we end up rolling around on the couch and falling off onto the floor in a wrestling match like two kids.
“You know . . . you aren’t far off. I think you nailed ‘Circuit Boys’ pretty dead on!” I muse after we stop panting from our wrestling match.
“I suppose, I will have to be introduced to a ‘Circuit Boy’ so that I can know what the hell you are talking about, Brian.” Snowflake grouses good-naturedly.
“Oh, Sweet Thing, you aren’t going to be able to avoid them. Once we get out on the street tonight and go for some real food, you’re probably going to attract a herd of them. Trust me when I say . . . you are going to be an instant hit on the Circuit around here!” I wink at him.
“For Heaven’s sake why?” Snowflake is actually truly perplexed by this. He has no idea what he is and what he’ll mean to where I’ve brought him. He’s a star and he doesn’t even know it yet.
I chuckle rather ominously, “You’ll see!”
I hold his hands and look at him in those eyes of his. He just stares back bewildered. “My Royal Nordic Wet Dream . . . you’re going to be the Main Man tonight! I’m taking you out! Dinner and dancing, but you’ve never been dancing in the Castro. It’s another world! Only the West Hollywood Strip has it better on the West Coast. Maybe Vegas.” I can’t help but get a bit giddy.
I’ll be able to show off my angel of the snow to my world! My friends are going to freak! They are going to hate me and love him! I get to blend this all-encompassing love with the glam and decadence of my little world here! I’ll get to inspire green-eyed envy wherever I go! Sweet!
“I do not know. I do not dance very well. I am a bit of a geek when it comes to dancing!” Snowflake shrugs helplessly trying his best to be a killjoy. It doesn’t work on me.
“Oh, bullshit! I’ve seen you move! I know that when you fuck me it’s like a waltz. Just dry fuck me on the dance floor and they’ll clear it for us to do a couples Dancing With The Stars act!” I grin. “It’s easier to do with music . . . and The Café has the best! The DJs there are out of this world! I love their sets! You’ll start to move with me and, trust me, we’ll be stars!” I assure him.
“Well, ok. If you say so. I make you do things you do not want to do. It is only fair that you get to return the favor.” Snowflake looks genuinely worried.
“Relax, Snowballs! You’ll have more fun than you’ve had since you won your last gold medal. I promise!” I am dead sure of this. He has no idea.
“That was rather a lot of work, but then again . . . it was one of the highlights of my life. But that is a far second to finding you!” he melts me with a look of love that is a treasure beyond price to me!
I, kind of, can’t stand it anymore and pounce him! We kiss, then laugh and then wrestle a bit more. Things are working up to something more penetrating when the doorbell rings.
I sigh raggedly. “Who the fuck is it?” I yell at the door.
“It’s meeee!” A familiar voice comes from behind the door.
I know who it is, but he deserves a hard time for this coitus interruptus.
“I don’t KNOW a ‘me’. Leave it next to the door and fuck off!” I growl while suppressing a giggle. Snowflake chortles conspiratorially behind his hand.
“Awwww! Come on Briiii! You know it’s meee! It’s Jimmy!!” He whines. God, it’s cute. How is he even in his twenties? He sounds thirteen going on six.
“You know I can just kick this freakin’ door in. Right?” I hear a deeper voice. One that I recognize as Vic Camarada.
“You know that I have a fully armed and operational Olympic athlete in here, right, you Guinea Broad?” I laugh as I get up to rescue them.
I open the door and the two cuties are just beaming. I giggle. “Oh, fuck you two! Get in here!” I pull them inside. Snowflake rises to his feet from the floor with a wide smile.
“Guinea Broad?” Vic asks with a stifled laugh cracked into his voice. “You’ve been watching too much Godfather again, you Texas Hick!” He gives me a hug and Jimmy does too. Snowflake hugs us all. Group hug! How gay is that?
“I didn’t know you guys were back in town . . . and still together?” I observe happily and pointedly.
“We were probably back before you two. Sabrina was doing ok and she has Albert now so . . . Vic wanted to show me his place!” Jimmy says excitedly and he is actually bouncing on his toes.
“Did he really show you his . . . place?” I ask salaciously.
“What? You want the video, you perverted faggot? What the fuck?” Vic laughs and pushes me gently. I like him. Somehow, he fits right in and has become a quick friend! Some people are just cool like that!
“I don’t need the video. I was there for a live performance.” I wink at Jimmy and Vic briefly wonders what I mean.
Snowflake breaks this possible note of tension with his typical matter of fact manner: “I am hungry. We will eat soon, yes, or do I order the Papa John’s?” He asks threateningly.
“Um, not even, Mr. Snowflake! I forbid it! It’s an infamia to all Italian people if you eat Papa John’s in my presence AND in San Francisco no less!” Vic declares pointing his finger in the air like a Roman Senator.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him all evening, but once he likes something it’s hell and all to get him to try something else!” I confirm.
“What is this? I try many new things all the time! I did not even know who Papa John was until you introduced me, my Butt Blossom!” Snowflake comes back testily.
Jimmy covers his mouth and starts giggling so hard he turns red. Vic just stares dumbfounded at Snowflake. The ‘Butt Blossom’ comment has done its damage.
“Dude! Come on! You can only use that when we’re ALONE!” I whine.
“Ooops! My apologies, Brian Baby.” He kisses me on the forehead like I’m a little boy and he’s my grandmother. Oh for FUCK sake!
Vic blows a derisive raspberry-laugh through his lips while Jimmy nearly loses consciousness from lack of oxygen with his own laughing.
“You two bitches need to get a grip. I’m changing out of my work clothes. You guys do whatever . . .” I say and stomp off to the bedroom to get into my party clothes. I also work to get Snowflake’s change of clothes too since he will NOT be going out in grease-stained sweat pants and a Stanford t-shirt tonight.
“Snowplow, Honey. You need to change! I’m NOT going out with you looking like that!” I call from the bedroom.
” ‘Snowplow?’ ” Vic exclaims. I must say, Snowflake handles these things much better than I do.
“Yes. It is a term of endearment. Brian likes to call me ‘Snowplow’ because I ‘plow his snow so fucking sweet’.” How did this become about me again?
Jimmy just screams and collapses on Vic. Vic catches him and buries his head in Jimmy’s hair trying not to sputter too much.
“I swear I’m going to fucking kill you Snowflake. I’m almost a doctor. I can make it look like an accident.” I state calmly and rationally as I hand him his change of clothes.
He hugs me and lifts me a bit. “You cannot kill me. I am the only one who can plow your snow just right!” He crosses his eyes goofily at me.
I bark a laugh in his face and he giggles with me as we lean into each other head to head. God, we are having such a great time and we haven’t even left the apartment yet!
Jimmy and Vic look me up and down in my ‘Circuit Suit’ of skinny pants, tie print Hugo Boss shirt, black shiny boots, and black blazer, and they wolf whistle in unison. I ignore them. This is just casual wear.
Snowflake doesn’t seem to notice. He’s always considered clothes an encumbrance or a necessary evil. Style is lost on him for the most part. It’s all efficiency and comfort for him. Sort of like he would wear IKEA clothing if they made any.
“Ok, Snowflake, put these on and NO arguments.” He goes without comment and does as told. He has learned well not to cross me on matters of fashion.
When he returns I am caught breathless with a lump in my throat. Vic and Jimmy gawp with their mouths open. Snowflake becomes a vision in red, white, and blue. He is resplendent!
The red velour relief patterned jacket, the black pegged pants with red seam stripes, the electric blue shirt . . . as gaudy as they are, they all set off Snowflake’s natural whiteness and that magnificent mane of platinum hair just as I figured they would when I bought them! His grey-blue eyes pick up the blue and the red and make them look supernaturally beautiful! Snowflake’s eyes glitter with magic!
I’d also gotten him some comfy white loafers to go with the matching white leather belt with a silver steel ratcheting buckle he wears around his waist. God, I could ride him to Cincinnati!
“Whaoooh!” Jimmy blurts while Vic turns a more studied eye on the ensemble.
“Not bad. Could use a little nip and tuck here and there, but you managed a good fit, Bri. Mr. Snowplow is gonna be a hit in that hot mess!” He walks around Snowflake and approves of all the angles.
“Brian may call me Snowplow! You may not!” Snowflake informs Vic snootily.
Jimmy pipes in and asks: “Does this mean I can’t call Brian ‘Butt Blossom’ either?” He couldn’t help but giggle his silly self into another tittering fit.
Snowflake and I say as one: “NO!”
“Awwwww!” Jimmy whines.
I am, as per usual, perplexed at the reactions my friends have when they see me dress in clothes I would not normally wear. It is like they are shocked that I can look well dressed! It is true that I cannot help but look bizarre in anything I wear, but I look astonishingly strange in clothes such as these.
I mean, am I to wear this red carpet in the shape of a blazer coat all evening? Why am I in a shirt so blue it seems to light the room by itself? Well, so long as it makes Brian happy it makes me happy.
I must say that I like the pants. They are quite snug. I really could not wear my boxer-briefs in them so I am ‘hanging free’ down there. It is ok because I do not like wearing underwear all the time. It feels ‘sexy’ to wear pants without anything between my skin and the rougher material sometimes. This is fun in jeans in particular, but although these are not jeans the pants work the same way jeans do on my crotch, privates, and bottom. Everything feels ‘naughtier’ somehow. Hehehehe!
I do not think Brian knows that I am not wearing underwear. If we are to dance as he says we are to dance ‘like when I fuck’ him then it may become apparent that I am not in underwear. Oh, well. It will not be the first time I have shown my wears in a gay club. There is a place in Helsinki called DYMK for Does Your Mother Know and yes it is read this way in English. I believe it comes from the ABBA song of the same name.
ABBA along with crunchy death metal rock is all mixed up in that place. I do believe I remember hearing a cover of this song there by a local gothic band that sounded particularly sinister. Such a fun place! Hopefully, I can return Brian’s favour for taking me out in his city by taking him to this place in Helsinki. Having been to a couple of American gay clubs before I can say that DYMK will be an entirely different experience for Brian. Finns never do anything half-way. I sometimes think they make the butchest gay men on earth. The place veritably reeks of testosterone. I always stand out there because I’m considered ‘A Pretty Girl’ at DYMK despite the fact that everyone there knows I am our nation’s champion in one of the toughest sports Finland has.
Anyway, I never wear underwear at DYMK. The men there particularly like it when I wear leather pants like that. They are usually surprised that I am not into BSDM though. My penis is on display just like everyone else’s there. It is true that no one really wears underwear at DYMK. Finns like to know what they are getting before they take it home, I suppose.
After some continued silliness on the part of Brian, Vic, and especially little Jimmy, we finally get underway for dinner. I am very thankful for this because I am so hungry that I am close to putting little Jimmy in my mouth and eating him whole! Take that statement as you will. Hehehehe!
We depart Brian’s condominium and take to the streets. I am promised a great dining experience in Italian food at a place called ‘Genoa’. This place comes under the recommendation of Vic who knows the place makes its own pasta. I don’t really understand why that is important, but since Vic is Italian American and knowledgeable about such food in San Francisco I am willing to try a new thing! Take THAT my Bri Bri Butt Blossom!
Fortunate for us, the restaurant is not too far away from Brian’s home and upon arriving I learn to trust Vic Camarada on all things food-related from now on. The smells coming from ‘Genoa’ are completely intoxicating! My stomach wants to climb out of my belly and attack whatever I am smelling with vicious abandon!
“Oh my Lord, that smells HEAVENLY!” I utter in pure amazement!
“Yup. I know the chef here. He insists on making things from scratch. The chef here allows you to customise your pasta dishes. He makes me some special dishes whenever I come here. I think you’ll like them!” Vic smiles that most charming and seductive smile. I cannot help but stare a moment longer than I should. He holds my stare and seems to turn away a bit flustered. Awww! I scared him! Why must I be so very STRANGE?
“Well, I’m ready to eat. Does this place take reservations? Can we even get in here?” Brian asked all these sensible questions being so knowledgable of the area. Interestingly, there is only a pleasantly sized crowed, but not a teeming hoard.
The beautiful young lady at the little guest podium outside smiles wide when she sees Vic and embraces him kissing both cheeks. They exchange something in Italian that then breaks into semi-English. I am glad. Italian is a language I don’t know very well. Even when I am in the Italian Alps I generally speak either French or English. I can speak one about as well as the other. Frenchmen in particular seem to be ever so forgiving and bend over backwards to try and help me with my French. I do not know why French people are considered arrogant about their beautiful language. All that I have met have loved to teach me correct syntax and pronunciation. More so than English speakers I might add!
She says: “But of course, Victorio! You never need a reservation here! What a handsome group you have brought us today as well! Grazie Mille!” She eyes us all, particularly Brian.
She even boldly supports Brian’s back as she guides us inside to Vic’s regular table. That he has a regular table is something of note. This being a popular establishment, it is no mean accomplishment! Vic is obviously some kind of VIP here!
I cannot help but notice the looks we are getting as we walk through the restaurant toward the back. Particularly the startled stares that I seem to be bringing. I want to attribute it to my clownish clothes or my great height, but I fear it is my paleness. Such a colouring is not normal for California. Everyone has a tan unless you are part of a subculture devoted to nightlife exclusively. I do not know, but one particular individual is staring at me with a very hungry look. He is an older man who is perhaps in his early fifties. Handsome and obviously well off, he seems to stroke my body with his eyes. It is somewhat disconcerting and I find myself blushing as we are seated in a table in the back of the restaurant.
Brian looks over at me and squeezes my hand: “You ok? You’re a little flushed.” Leave it to a doctor to begin a medical exam in the middle of a nice restaurant!
“I am good.” I smile at him which seems to settle him back into that wonderfully silly look he has sometimes when looking at me smile. He really likes that! His liking it makes me do it more and I am most glad of that!
Ever the intuitive, Jimmy picks up on things almost instantly: “Don’t worry Bri! He just noticed that Silver Fox over there basically ripping Snowflake’s clothes off with his eyes!” Jimmy starts another giggling fit. I lightly kick him under the table.
“OWWW!” Jimmy exclaims and stares daggers at me! I merely stare back unflinching until he starts to blink and look somewhere else. Anywhere else! Hehehehe!
“If you kids don’t settle down, I’m taking you home!” Vic warns. I smirk at him.
“Would you gentlemen care for a drink? We have a full bar and, as Victorio knows, an extensive wine listing!” The pretty friend of Vic’s says to start us off.
I am still distracted. I keep glancing around me at the eyes that keep darting over in my direction. I wish I could get used to being a freak show, but I simply cannot, I guess. I hope I can enjoy my meal without becoming nauseated.
“Snowflake. Hey? Earth to Snowflake. You wanna drink or something?” Brian snaps me back into place.
I look at him a little bewildered and then at the young lady. “Whatever Vic suggests. I am not picky.” I look down at my napkin and begin folding it into little squares out of nerves.
“Anisette. With a big bottle of tonic water.” I have no idea what anisette is.
“Ah! Molto bene! We have a good house that imports for us from Italy. It is expensive though!” She warns.
“I’m good for it. Let’s have it!” Vic makes a come hither gesture to bring the drink. He has a flourish with his hands I love. Vic is an interesting person. Jimmy manages to attract such men I have seen. He is quite the magnet for them. His little innocent and inelegant sweetness seems to be a tonic for these men better than the tonic water Vic just ordered.
“What’s anus-it?” Jimmy asks with a little fear.
Vic laughs a little as does Brian. I fail to see the humour. Like I mentioned, I do not know what ‘anus-it’ is either! I rather not find out if it is what it sounds like! Brian’s is the only one of those I like!
“Not ~scoff~ ANUS-it, kid! Anisette! It’s s liqueur that tastes a little like licorice.” Vic explains. I am suddenly interested! I LOVE licorice!
“Um, ew!” Jimmy gets this adorable ‘yuck’ face. Apparently, he does not care for licorice.
Brian smiles and then says: “More for me then! You snooze you lose!”
“Um, why do YOU guys like it? Licorice is so GROSS!” Jimmy makes a revolted shiver. It is strange to me that anyone could not like licorice! It is like French kissing an angel and a deliciously dark one at that! In Finland, it is the favorite flavour of sweet.
“Kid, you probably’ve never had real licorice before so you really don’t know what you are talking about. Also, this is really anise flavoured. It’s a little lighter and different than licorice.” Vic explains to his cultural protégé.
“I like anus, but not out of a bottle.” Jimmy squirms in his seat a bit feeling uncomfortable about not knowing what he’ll be eating and drinking tonight.
I have no such fear. When something smells wonderful it WILL taste wonderful! I will also have to watch myself with this anisette because I may very well get so drunk on it my companions will have to be pole-bearers to get me back to Brian’s apartment!
Before long much anisette has been finished, much of it going into Jimmy’s gullet, and we are all pleasantly tipsy and hungrier. So, it is now that we are greeted by the Chef himself who comes out and grabs Vic in a great bear hug.
“Alex! You look great, Paisano!” Vic greets the chef by his first name.
“A-ha! I am ‘Paisano’ now? You are too cute, dammit!” Chef Alex pinches Vic’s cheeks softly.
“Ok. We gonna start with some nice prosciutto wrapped pears and a Roman-style salad with bacon and withered spinach. I just played with that salad this morning. My Mama used to make it. You guys staying away from onions and garlic tonight?” Chef Alex asks.
“I guess we should. We’ll be going clubbing after this. But, on second thought . . . naaah!” Brian says.
“Ah, a man after my own heart! No vampires tonight, huh?” Chef Alex has just the slight taste of an Italian accent from Florence. I recognise it from the many Florentines I’ve crossed paths within the skiing circuit.
“We do a nice Florentine style dinner, then. Very refined! Very delicious! Is ok, Victorio?” Chef Alex asks his ‘boss’.
“Absolutely, Alex! Please do! I love that style.” Vic really seems happy about it. I just wish that the negotiations would go faster before I die from starvation! Much to my great joy, a basket of bread is presented to us by our server. It comes with an olive oil-based dipping sauce that is so good I could drink it!
I, unfortunately, deprive my friends at table of half of the bread, but, despite much grousing on Brian’s part and many sad looks from Jimmy, Vic rescues us. He has the server bring two more loaves! I feel I have to slow down on the bread however as I figure I’ll need at least a little room for everything else.
Interestingly, Brian only eats one slice of bread. One only! Americans have a fear of bread these days as they believe their press too much. They figure bread and carbohydrates, in general, are what makes them fat. This is not the case, but as much as I try to educate them on the dangers of refined sugars and GMO processed foods, they still shy away from the great staple. I shall have to introduce Brian to good Finnish rye bread. It is very healthy. Much fibre and protein. We had it at every meal back home. That and some fresh butter is a very nice snack! It has actually been shown to help weight LOSS.
Alas, I feel I am spending too much time thinking about bread and not on other things. But, such is my hunger, and such are the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen that I could think of little else.
Jimmy seems to be a nonstop source of chatter tonight. Mostly questions about everything Brian and Vic know about the famous Castro and Mission districts of San Francisco. He wants to know about all the different clubs and if there were any bathhouses anymore. Had Brian ever been to a bathhouse? Of course, he had but apparently found it displeasing. He does not seem to like ‘Bears’ whatever they are.
I ask Brian what he means by ‘Bear’ and he basically describes many of the older men that frequent DYMK in Helsinki. Beards and casually rough clothing are normal there for gay men. They make no differentiation between Bears or Twinks or whatever else Brian talks about. They are just men, younger and older, having drinks and sex together. I do not really understand why Americans need to classify people always.
Jimmy, to his credit, does not seem put off by ‘Bears’ having had many a man answering to that description in the past. He actually likes them better than other kinds of men. They are almost always gentle and sweet to him. They act like just the opposite of what they look like. Irony seems to be a favourite pastime for gay men here in America.
We continue on with the meal and I am utterly in love with the antipasto that Vic has ordered. It is something not on the menu at all. I know, I pestered poor Brian about what is this and what is that. He finally huffed: “I don’t know! Whatever! Just fucking eat it! It’ll be good anyway. Everything here is good!” Hehehehe. He is so cute when he loses his temper like this.
Vic calls it a ‘burrata’ cheese with tomatoes and basil and more bread, toasted with garlic. I am getting used to garlic. It is eaten a lot here in California. It would make sense being that California is very Mediterranean in climate and culture. Many parts remind me greatly of Italy. It makes sense that the cuisine took such solid root here.
Jimmy is particularly in love with the burrata. We all manage to get a small bit of it before he consumes it all. I think I have found the cute one’s weakness . . . cheese! He’s so darling as he sits making musical ‘yummy’ noises. He seems to dance in his chair rocking side to side on his bottom in time to this music. I cannot help but giggle at this. He reminds me of when my cousins were little!
“Oh, Snowflake! It’s s-oo good!” He exclaims totally oblivious to his continued ‘chair dance’.
‘Primi’ comes next, according to Vic. This then is perhaps my favourite part of the meal. He orders something called ‘Raviolo al Uovo’. It seems to be Genoa’s signature dish. A delicious stuffed pasta shell with farmer’s cheese and browned butter sauce. It is all I can do to not lick my bowl after having finished every smidgeon of it!
‘Secondi’ is a special dish and apparently a Florentine specialty: chicken cacciatore. I have had this dish before and found it odd. I am not one to enjoy tomatoes and chicken together. It just seems strange to me. When we did have chicken at home, Grandmother would always roast it with fruit and things. Tomatoes just seem a waste on chicken as a delicate meat.
But this . . . this preparation of this dish changed my mind for all time! Chef Alex made this chicken with such delicate precision that it stood up to the sauce and the sauce only added sweet and sour enhancements to the flavour. It was now time for me to rock from side to side on my bottom making ‘yummy yummy’ noises! This causes Vic to scoff a bit and Brian to bump me lightly under the table with his knee. Jimmy joins in on my ‘yummy yummy’ dance, naturally.
All is accompanied by a red wine I will not even try to remember the name of. It is a Tuscan vintage. It complements the chicken cacciatore perfectly!
The dessert is limoncello. I am so stuffed that I do not think I can eat anymore until I taste the lemony heaven that is this dish! It is gone before I can take a second breath! It is absolutely orgasmic to my mouth!
Sambuca is brought out as the aperativo. It is, again, a licorice flavoured liquor similar to the anisette but sweeter and with more body. It cleans our pallets and makes us all relax.
Vic has earned my respect as a host. This was by far the best meal I’d ever had in California! It was even better than Papa John’s!
After a long and enjoyable meal at Genoa, we went on our way with Brian in the lead. We walk for a few blocks toward Castro St. from Mission Ave. All along the way, we attract attention. Brian was right. I am now thoroughly acquainted with the ‘Circuit Boys’. I seem to have made the mistake of taking the backup position in our little team so I am easily accessed as it were.
“OooOOOoo! HEY baby! Gawd, Richie! Isn’t he HAWT! Oh my FUCKING Gawd! Could we take him home with us to play?” They have come up from behind and I have one who has hooked his little arm under mine and the other one, who is a bit taller, simply walks with me on my other side glaring at his friend.
“Oh Jesus Christ, Joey! You are ALWAYS doing this shit! Leggo of his arm! You’ll SCARE him! He might not even be gay!” Richie exclaims. I am somewhat shocked by their forwardness, but cannot help but chuckle at them both.
They are about Jimmy’s age though a bit thinner and they both have particularly revealing half-t-shirts baring their navels and unbelievably tight skinny jeans. Hair-wise, both seem plucked, smoothed out, sculpted, and coloured meticulously. They both sport eyeliner and other ‘prettifications’. The one attached to my arm, “Joey”, seems to be fond of pink. His shirt remnant is pink, as pink as his hair. The other, ‘Richie,’ wears raven black from head to toe that offsets his pale skin. I am amused at the mincing wiggle they both seem to walk with.
The commotion causes my boyfriend and our cohorts to stop and turn to see what has happened to me.
I feel Joey rub my bicep appreciatively as he looks up at me adoringly and says: “If he’s not gay . . . we might be able to make him a convert!”
“No need, Precious. He’s gay and he’s . . . mine” Brian’s tone is somehow a mix between exasperated and amused all at once. I think he is enjoying my predicament.
“Oh, Sweet Mama! Who have we here? OMG! We found the motherload!” Richie’s light brown eyes seem to widen and then go seductive in a blink.
“Oh, you are all about your ‘loads’, your horny slut! Where’s the romance!” Joey looks from his friend to me and does the ‘slow blinking’ thing that is supposed to make me fall in love with him, I think. It is rather cute, if obvious.
Brian puts his hands on his hips and cocks one with a look of long-suffering on his face as Richie puts his hand on Brian’s chest.
Joey then looks to Jimmy and Vic. Richie seems to know Vic.
“Vicky! You huge Italian stud you! Where on EARTH have you been hiding that sweet ass of yours!” Forgetting Brian, Richie captures Vic in one of the impersonal light greeting hugs that seem to be a mainstay of ‘Fem boys’.
Joey, for his part, unlatches himself from my arm and bears a heading directly for Jimmy. I knew it wouldn’t be long before our little chicken would be ‘discovered’ by Joey. They are of a ‘kind’ after all.
“Squee! Fuck me, Muscles! Fuck me NOW!” Joey grabs Jimmy in a bear hug. Jimmy stands there stiffly quite shocked. I do not blame him. ‘Muscles’?
Jimmy, true to his sweet disposition, starts giggling at Joey who has now buried his face into Jimmy’s chest. With unsure arms, he returns Joey’s hug in a faltering embrace.
“What are you two little faggots up to now? Do you, like, hide in doorways waiting for me to bring you guys more ‘victims’?” Vic growls sarcastically.
“Oh, poo, Vicky! Like you always think you are the centre of OUR universe!” Richie sasses.
“You call me ‘Vicky’ one more time, Paisano, and I’m going to thump that pretty nose of yours!” Vic menaces.
Richie gasps in ‘horror’ at Vic’s remark. “You wouldn’t fucking dare! Uncle Mo would kick your ass from here back to Vegas and not even break a sweat!” Richie snarls with a half-smile on his full lips.
“Ok, ok, Cuz! If you two are done molesting my poor friends here, let me introduce you guys.” Vic tries to normalise the situation . . . like that would even be possible with these two!
“I already know . . . what I need to know!” Joey is amazingly brazen, I must say! He actually reaches down and squeezes Jimmy’s bottom which makes Jimmy jump a bit.
“Hey! Whoa there Seabiscuit! Can’t you at least get the boy’s name first before you start doing a finger-job on him?” Brian says stepping toward Joey in an attempt to rescue Jimmy from his impending rape.
Joey turns and looks at Jimmy sweetly and asks: “What’s your name other than ‘Muscles,’ Muscles?” I notice that Joey has not removed his hand from Jimmy’s behind yet.
“Um . . . J-Jimmy?” Aww, Jimmy is blushing!
“Well . . . J-Jimmy, it’s really go-od to meet you! I’m Joey.” Joey then plants a kiss on Jimmy’s cheek and reluctantly releases him.
“N-nice to meet you too, Joey!” Jimmy needs a hand I see. So I come to stand by his side to lend my strength. Upon seeing me again, Joey acts like he’s never seen me before.
“Ohhh, I almost forgot about YOU! I’m J-Joey!” Joey puts out his hand for me to shake though his hand is already shaking. Why do I make him nervous? I giggle.
“Well, I rather gathered that when your friend, Richie, called you by your name. I am called Snowflake,” I say.
Joey’s eyes go wide and a big smile crosses his face. “SNOWFLAKE! OMG, that is SOOOOOOO cool! Richie! Snowflake!” Joey begins to bounce on the balls of his feet. He really IS a member of Jimmy’s species.
“Snowflake? Yeah, I can TOTES see him as being a Snowflake. It’s ironic, but descriptive all at once!” Richie regards me clinically.
Richie turns back to his cousin and dismisses him with a flap of both hands: “Well, we already know who YOU are. But . . . you! Yoouuu . . .” Richie sashays back to Brian and I instantly feel something cold and aggressive grip my chest. There is a wave of possessiveness. Jealousy! I use my reserve to contain it as best I can.
“I’ve seen you around before! I never had the nerve to actually talk to you, though! You always have . . . ‘Him’ with you!” Richie says ominously. He is obviously referring to someone other than me here.
“I live here so yeah, more than likely you’ve seen me around,” Brian answers with vast nonchalance. My jealousy lifts and is replaced by a touch of pride in my boyfriend. He seems to be a part of the local ‘royalty’! He will always be a prince to me though. No matter what!
“Live around here? Now THAT is cool! You must have just come back from Genoa. I fucking SWEAR that Vicky goes to eat there at least 4 times a week! I don’t know why he doesn’t just marry Chef Alex. So Alex is a bit of a chub, but that can be damned sexy sometimes!” Richie says as we all start walking toward the Castro together again.
I have a feeling our little circle of friends just grew by two.
Joey now has both Jimmy and myself hooked to him arm in arm. He begins blathering about something and I must say that I do not get half of it so I merely nod. Joey seems to have a motor in his mouth.
“OH FUCKING CHRIST! Can’t you shut up for TWO SECONDS?” Richie directs this at Joey which he ignores because Jimmy is just wrapped up in whatever Joey is talking about. Yes, they talk the same language too obviously. Something about a Sean Mendez or some such.
I have to wonder who the ‘He’ is that Richie refers to. Again, I feel that green monster rise in my chest. I know that Brian has had a lot of ‘experience’ but it is still hard to think of him with anyone else but me.
After a few more minutes of walking and endless conversation between Jimmy and Joey we finally arrive, I suppose, at the destination, Brian had in mind. I find I have possessively taken hold of Brian’s hand which he accepts with a love-squeeze.
The place is, as promised, The Café, and though it is only 9:30 PM there is already a line waiting to get in. It seems to be as popular as Brian says it is. I am prepared to get in line, but Brian continues past the line toward an unmarked entrance next door to the club. He takes his cell phone out and texts something and then just stands there.
“Are we not going to get in line to go into the club, Brian?” I ask, confused as usual. Vic, Jimmy, and the Circuit Boys seem likewise confused. Richie, ever the sarcastic one, reminds Brian: “Um, hello-oo! The door and the LINE to the door is over there!” He thumbs in the direction of the line and the glowing entrance to The Café. Brian looks at Richie and then at the line and says: “Yeah, I know.”
“Well, why are we here?” Vic wonders.
A light comes on inside and I hear someone coming downstairs and then locks unlocking. A middle-aged gentleman with long hair tied in a ponytail opens up.
“BRIAN! YOU SEXY MUTHERFUCKER! Where in the HELL have you been?” The man grips Brian in a big hug. It is only after the plump man has released Brian that I can get a better look. He has a trimmed white-gray beard and plucked eyebrows not much different than Joey and Richie. It is odd to see this on a man who must be in his early 60s. His long gray hair is a marvel of silkiness. It looks like the silver mane of a white horse. Despite his weight, he is rather attractive!
“Guys, this is Marvyn Gaye Chesney! He goes by Marvyn Gay, naturally.” Marvyn Gay takes us all in with a wink and a smile.
“Wow, Bri! You su-re know how to bring me some club ornaments! Especially . . . THIS one!” Marvyn slowly walks up to me and holds me in his blue-eyed stare. I am fascinated that it is the same cobalt blue as Brian’s! It is obvious that Marvyn Gaye is a relative with the shared last name!
“I thought I’d never see naturally platinum hair like that until I went totally white with what’s left of my hair!” His age and his corpulence do nothing to scale back this man’s natural sexiness. I can only imagine how he must have been in a younger day. My eyes, naturally, drift to look at Brian . . . who is beaming!
“What is your name, Beautiful, and what are you doing hanging out with these losers?” Marvyn shakes my hand slowly. His thumb massages a spot on my hand I didn’t even know was a sexual stimulant. Despite myself, I find I am becoming aroused!
“I am Jusse Halla, Mr. Gay, but I am known to friends as Snowflake.” I say as I cannot help but smile at the tender man. He blinks at me and grins back.
“Oh my sweet Jesus, Bri. You got another Kris for us, didn’t you? ‘Cept this one is . . . extra special! You sound like a Finn, Snowflake, if I may be a friend enough to call you by that name.” Marvyn puts a hand on my shoulder and leads me to the door.
“But of course, Mr. Gay. I am honoured!” I reply in honesty.
“Oh, Baby! He’s polite too!” Marvyn leads me inside to the stairs and then switches places with me to lead us up. I notice Brian quickly wave to the others so they will follow. Interestingly, Marvyn pretty much ignores all of them. He only has eyes for Brian and then myself. I wonder who this ‘Kris’ is? Is he the ‘He’ Richie spoke about?
“To answer your question Mr. Gaye . . .” He interrupts me politely between puffs as he climbs the stairs.
“Sweetheart, you call me Marv. My friends always call me Marv!” He turns and winks one of his Santa Claus blue eyes at me. I have a familiar shiver run down my spine upon seeing it! It’s the same shiver Brian gives me when he winks!
“Very well, Marv. Yes, in answer to your question I am a Finn. I am impressed that you can tell that!” This is because I really AM impressed!
“Ok, here’s the secret portal. Come on in guys. Let’s have a drink before going down. NOT you, Joey! Not ’til next year!” Marv points at Joey who pouts and whines about not getting liquor this time.
“You aren’t getting MY club closed down because I’ve been caught serving underage patrons and you know this, you little pink devil you!” Marv hands Joey a Sprite. Joey wrinkles his nose up at it.
“But . . . it’s not diet!” Joey complains.
“Hunny, the LAST thing you and Richie Bitchy over there need is diet anything! I swear you Circuit Twinks scare me sometimes! I’ve seen World War II concentration camp victims with more meat on their bones!” Marv grouses.
Joey tsks but then proceeds to open the can and enjoy his drink. Richie pouts about being ‘Richie Bitchy’ I think.
“So, Unc, you got any Jameson back there?” Brian asks of his . . . Uncle! A-ha! It all makes sense now!
“Sure enough, Twinkle Toes. Hold your horses though because I got Red Label stuff. I think we need some of that for this special occasion!” Marv says and then goes to a large cabinet with beautiful glass doors and displays a selection of liquor that would put most bars to shame. He even has Finlandia vodka!
“What special occasion is that, Unc?” Brian asks as he is handed a shot glass with the Irish Gold in it.
“Ah, later, Bunny. It’s not important.” Marv smiles and looks away mysteriously. ‘Bunny’?
Marv is somehow psychic, I am now convinced of this! First, he hands me a nice big whopper of Finlandia, a Finnish shot which is basically a full shot glass. Kippis!
He then hands Vic a drink called grappa which Marv seems to know is a favourite of his. He ignores Richie and turns his attention to Jimmy. Marv cannot but smile tenderly at my little friend.
“What’s your pleasure, Sweet Thing? Nothing alcohol though. I can tell you and Joey are about the same age.” Joey tsks again.
In fact, Jimmy is just one year beyond the idiotic legal age limit here in America. But, Jimmy does not correct Marv about his age and merely shrugs: “Whatever Joey’s having. Sprite’s just fahn with me!” Jimmy says . . . the twang in his Southern accent hits a note of some kind.
“How about some RC Cola with real live sugar?” Marv grins and bears down on his Texas accent. Indeed, Brian and Marv are related perfectly!
Jimmy’s face drops. “You got the real stuff?”
“You bet your sweet banana, Green Eyes,” Marv says. Before long Jimmy is happily sipping this seeming treasure. ‘Real live sugar’?
We finish our drinks and laugh a bit and talk a lot and get well acquainted with one another. Before long Marv is taking us down another flight of stairs in the back of his apartment. A tremendous thumping sound gets louder and louder as we approach a red door at the end of the stairwell.
Marv opens and I am immediately assaulted with all the sensory overload that is a modern discotheque! Lights of every colour do not seem to penetrate the dark and smoke of the dance floor. People, beautiful people, are reduced to flashes of form. Presiding over this kingdom of debauchery are two DJs back to back working mysterious consoles. Their music is pleasantly deafening.
Marv escorts us through the throng to the front of the club where the bar is and where the music isn’t quite so loud. I find we are looked over by many of the patrons in ways that would make one feel visually raped. I cannot help but feel self-conscious.
Brian, on the other hand, seems to know everyone. He greets many with ‘how the fuck are yas’ and ‘good to see yas’. My beautiful social butterfly! He really is a prince here in his kingdom!
Joey and Richie walk through unaffected and with Jimmy between the two as his ‘guard dogs’ no one gets in any pinches or squeezes on him. I am not so fortunate. I am goosed more than once!
Vic is left alone and people part for him. In his silent way, he’s just as imposing a figure as Brian is outgoing.
Marv finally brings us to the neon bar with several half-dressed bartenders pouring the drinks with amazing agility! Marv orders us a round of the house cocktail which is a wild mixture of flavoured vodkas and sour mixers. Delicious and . . . strong!
“I love The Café. I think it’s my favourite spot on a night like tonight. Lots of energy tonight!” Brian squeezes himself into my torso making it necessary for me to embrace him around his arms.
“BRIAN CHESNEY! WHERE IN GOD’S GREEN EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN? I’ve been worried SICK about you! Can’t you give a girl a call every now and then . . . you fucking son of a bitch?” A sharp brassy voice manages to penetrate all the other noise. I admit to being startled by the sound of it!
He stands there, the most brilliant combination of dichotomies. His fiery dark red hair is a colour not known to nature, but it somehow sets off his glamorous dark eye makeup and bright red lipstick. This and a bit of roughness from a nice afternoon shadow represents part of the dichotomy.
The other is the fact that he wears a business woman’s skirt but also a ‘would you fuck me. I’d fuck me’ t-shirt. His pink go-go boots complete the mayhem!
“Hey, Jason.” Brian greets the absurd vision with a kiss on the cheek. I feel that green monster yet again!
“K. You can sweeten me up with those lips all you want but, Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ to do!” Jason throws his head back and shifts his hips in mock aggravation not too differently from any number of Madonna poses I’ve seen done.
“Jason. Put a sock in it, Girlfriend, and I don’t mean one that’s been down a go-go boy’s shorts either!” Marv moans acerbically at this Jason character.
“Well, Jimmy Baby, we’ll catch up with you later. With ‘HIM’ here, the drama is just going to get weirder and weirder. You’ll come with us if you know what’s good for ya.” Richie says.
I catch this and am somewhat pleased to know who ‘He’ is now. This Jason character is the ‘Him’ in question. He seems to be the proverbial ‘Queen’ to Brian’s ‘King’ here.
Jimmy declines his two new friends who then shrug and go off to the dance floor.
“Ok, my Love. Who is THIS guy?” I am suddenly distracted from my distractions. The crazy alluring beauty of Jason becomes even more apparent now that he is basically right in my face.
“That’s my BOYFRIEND Snowflake, JJ,” Brian informs Jason pointedly.
It is then that something is done that totally catches me off guard and I gasp and jerk at the unexpected sensation. ‘JJ’ has just reached down and groped my entire package down there!
“Hmmm. . . sharesies?” Jason smirks at me as he talks over his shoulder at Brian who quickly rips Jason’s hand away from my privates. I am fortunate that Jason was not gripping harder upon my jewels!
“He’s not for sharing and even if he was I wouldn’t expose him to whatever it is you’ve managed to catch this week, JJ.” Brian chortles at his own wit.
“You are being such a C-word, tonight! I swear!” Jason says snottily rolling his eyes.
“Snowflake, this is Jason Jayson. He’s a sometimes friend . . . and all the time GIANT pain in the ass!” Brian says to me.
“Oh, fuck that! You KNOW we’re both bottoms! I’ve never caused a pain in the ass in my whole life!” Jason flourishes flamboyantly with his hand in the air as he turns to one of the bartenders to refresh his rather glowing pink vodka drink.
I then catch notice of someone else who has just appeared as if by magic. I must wonder if he isn’t magic, he looks like a fairytale character. He’s also made a beeline for Jimmy.
This boy is a little shorter than Jimmy and thinner, not unlike Joey and Richie, but this one seems to have way more presence than either of those boys. Jimmy seems completely hypnotised by this guy! I cannot help but think of a bird caught in the hypnotic gaze of a tree snake!
He has light blue hair and sports jewelry in a number of places. Earrings, several of them, a diamond nose stud in his perfect little nose, and some kind of amethyst dangle attached to his forehead like he is a little Indian Vedic god! He has pale blue eyes which he matches with a shirt that has a combination of skulls and Hello Kitties. I do not know why he has bothered with pants as his are so tight that he leaves nothing to the imagination.
I hear him introduce himself to Jimmy as Mattie Hunter and he leans in to whisper into Jimmy’s ear. I can see Jimmy become instantly erect! Before long Jimmy is gone. The little magic Mattie has taken him away to his lair. I do not see Vic anywhere so I cannot know if this is ‘approved’ of or not.
It is then that I hear a deep hazy voice behind me uttering something incredibly strange to hear in a place such as this.
“Hallo! Hvordan har du det?” The voice asks
“Voin hyvin. Entä sinä?” I answer in Finnish.
I turn and am presented with the only man I can say is a match for my Brian in looks. I’m sure some would say he surpasses Brian, but of course, never in my eyes.
“A-ha! I would not have guessed you for a Finn! Such hair is something I do not see often there!” The Norwegian Demi-God responds.
He stands at my height, perhaps a bit taller. He has sea blue eyes set in a beautifully perfect face of high cheekbones and that elvish slant to the eyes that are so alluring and so quintessentially Norwegian. His long naturally blonde hair hangs in locks all around his head to his shoulders and a bit over one eye.
“I am Kristoffer Sørensen. It is so nice to meet someone from so close to home!” He gives me a heartbreaking smile.
I suddenly feel lost!