Gay Shit

I knew I was looking hella shady standing and waiting here in the parking lot, outside of some apartments, on a hardly lit street close to midnight. After about a minute, I saw a familiar face heading toward me, so I opened my arms and went up to greet him.

“I’m not here for you, you betch.” He marched straight past me.

“Thanks Cameron.” I dropped my arms.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaandy!”

I turned around to him see him jumping at another guy who had just parked his car, and when I turned back, I saw SF Andrew coming up to me.

“Hey!” he said. “Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you made it. It’s almost midnight and I didn’t think you were going to come!”

“Why would I ever wanna miss this?” We hugged.

Cameron came up to me again, and I turned to face him. Oh good I finally get a greeti—

“BETCH!” He shoved me a few inches back. “WHY DON’T YOU EVER HANG OUT WITH ME ANYMORE? YOU NEVER RESPOND TO MY CALLS OR TEXTS. TOO COOL FOR ME NOW? YOUR DANCER FRIENDS ARE SO MUCH BETTER HM?”

Andrew jumped in between us. “Yo, calm down! It’s okay Cameron! He’s here because he misses us. He wants to visit. That’s why I invited him.”

“BETCH WHATEVER. YOU’RE TOO COOL FOR ME NOW.”

Looking at Andrew, I shrugged my shoulders and muttered, “This is a good start.”

“See Cameron? Brian says this is a good start!”

Clearly, everyone already had a few shots in them.

I hadn’t been to this apartment before. Cameron and Charles lived together in it, with Cameron only having moved in just a few weeks ago. It was smaller, but smaller gave it a cozy, homey, and glowing feel. Or maybe that was just the wave of drunken body heat that smothered me the moment I stepped inside, and the glowing was just from the Asian glow on everybody’s faces.

Among all the clamor and drunk people rolling on the floor, I spotted a few old friends and gave some awkward hugs (awkward because I’m just not very good at hugging), and after turning down drinks multiple times, I found a comfortable place to just sit down and chat.

And yeah, that was really it. I just talked a lot. First with Sarah and Seung-Wan, two girls who lived in my dorm last year, and then I found a place to sit down on the floor in another room with a bag of chips and some more unfamiliar faces. I met Andrew’s bestie Chris; the little bro of someone I worked with at Breakthrough this past summer, Wilson; and another Viet guy named Minh-Tuan (who everybody calls Minty, but I can’t quite get that name to roll smoothly off my tongue), just to name some.

The kitchen for some reason had a really huge mirror running from ceiling to floor, so I taught Andrew the pop diva dance I learned the other night, and we further struck some sexy poses.

Eventually, Cameron and I made up. I don’t remember what I said, but it was basically a contest to see who could yell louder over each other.

I think I still have a long way from opening my mind when it comes to broader gay shit, or, as everyone likes to call it, “queer issues.” Whenever “queer issues” came up at the party, Andrew and I would ditch and go into the next room.

And I could hardly resist rolling my eyes when Cameron lectured me on not using the word “tranny.”

“There’s someone in the room that you could offend.” He motioned at a tranny standing by the door.

“I can think of another word that would offend everyone in the room. It starts with an ‘f.’”

The kickback quieted down and everyone was about ready to call it a night around 3 or 4. Chris, who was Andrew’s ride, ended up making some new plans for the next few hours, so we all decided that Andrew would sleep at my apartment on my couch until 7:30 AM, when Chris would come pick him up.

As I was leaving, Cameron approached me for a hug and to talk to me one last time for the night.

“So Brian,” he said, “can I expect to see ya around more often?”

---
March 9, 2010, 2 A.M, via instant messaging:

Trung Nguyen:
How’d you feel after that? Do you remember?

bbq dinner:
Ashamed and insecure about myself. My thoughts about myself haven’t changed much since then.

Trung Nguyen:
Why don’t you think they haven’t?

bbq dinner:
Because I still suck d.

Trung Nguyen:
WHY THE FUCK CAN’T YOU SAY DICK. D-I-C-K. you should also say, “I’m gay.” It’s not hard.

bbq dinner:
Ok, that one’s actually hard for me

Trung Nguyen:
Ok, baby steps: “I like men.”

bbq dinner:
I like gangsters.

Trung Nguyen:
No. “I like men.”

bbq dinner:
I like ghetto Asian guys!

Trung Nguyen:
I wasn’t ghetto!
“I like men.”

bbq dinner:
I like men with fresh kicks!

Trung Nguyen:
“I like men.”

bbq dinner:
No, I think that’s enough baby steps for me today.

Trung Nguyen:
No it isn’t. You’re never going to get to that point if I let you dictate it. “I like men.” Say that and we’re done with this exercise.

bbq dinner:
I like menz K-LOL-ALL-DONE.

Trung Nguyen:
Can you please do it without all the silliness attached to it?

bbq dinner:
I like men.
:( :(

Trung Nguyen:
Ok. That’s better.

bbq dinner:
If you had to run a workshop to help confused college southeast Asian gays feel comfortable about themselves, you should run the workshop like this.

Trung Nguyen:
Omg you are being sarcastic aren’t you? DO YOU NOT THINK THIS IS EFFECTIVE?

bbq dinner:
No, it’s totally effective. I’m totally going to go apply to intern at the lgbtabcd resource center tomorrow, and Imma hit up Cameron right now for a catch-up lunch.

Trung Nguyen:
omg -_- Anyway, the point is, you clearly have issues. And honestly it’s not gonna get better if you don’t do something about it. I don’t expect you to be an activist, but at the very least, be happy with yourself.
---

“Yeah,” I told Cameron. “I’ll answer your texts. Invite me to some more kickbacks, and we’ll get caught up at lunch or dinner some time. Promise.”

Thank you to everyone there for one of my better and more fun college nights in a long while. Yes, all I had was water, but I only really need everyone around me to be drunk, and then I’m good.