Polish Squirrels and Lubed Up Roofies

Last night was really fucked up. Of all nights to have NOT brought my camera, for two reasons. I don't know where to start....this is a long post so take your time....

First of all, I'm tired of my squirrel metaphor. I've over used it. I love it because it is so fitting to my situations and how I feel , but I think I over did it. Just as when I was growing up I used "like" with everything thing I said. "Like, ya!" "Like holy shit!" "So what are you, like, gonna do tonight?"

I was going to stop referring to my squirrels. You know, let them rest a while. Seriously! But last night changed all that.

TorontoBoi, T , D and I went to Lube. 10:30 and there was fucking line up. Some euro trash birthday party going on the place and it was full of buglies. Whatever, we were going to have a good night so we waited in line for 20 minutes. In the rain.

Once inside we were joined by P and later on in the evening S (who tells me he has a sick addiction to my blog - Hi sexy...I know you are reading ;). TorontoBoi (TB) and I were chatty Kathy's' early on in the evening, not a care in the world. We were both drinking Crantini's with Chambourd, often putting them down carefree to talk to various people and smoke cigarettes. TB and I each got picked up and cruised quite a bit which was nice and made for a comical evening, but the fun did not start until he walked in.

Yup. Follow that link above before you read on and you'll know why there was the MOTHER OF ALL SQUIRRELS in the bar last night. Lord...

Matthew was my first kiss, my first everything. (letting out a sigh as I think about the first time I got a rim job....). Who forgets their first (when it was good)? There is a connection there. I was his first as well. Sure he had fooled around a bit before me with the other boys, but I was his first "relationship". It did not end on bad terms or anything, although through the mist of my mind I do recall a bit of drama but hey, I was 19.

He looked...um...good. Not GREAT, not bad or bugly, but just OK I guess. His hair was longer. He has not aged well. Most likely because of his lifestyle. Some people grow into their looks and some people grow out of them. Maybe he is the latter. In any case We talked for quite a bit. He's not doing porn any more, at least for the last 4 years. There is some serious family drama..blah blah blah...yadda..yadda..yadda. He went to hairdresser school, graduated, and is now a hairdresser........

HERE IN TORONTO

Gawd bless. He just moved back from LA. I knew that we would cross paths again. It's destined. I've said that may times before.

I also know that if he asked me, I would. Take that any way you want. I would think twice, but deep, deep, down inside my gut, I think I would. Whatever that means.

He was watching me all night. I was watching him all night. He was ALWAYS positioned as such that he would have a good view of me. Often averting his eyes when I turned his direction. I would do the same. I'm sure we both did not want each other to think that we are still interested, or care..or are concerned. This was a game we played for about an hour and 1/2. Every time we passed one another we would smile and touch one another, on the waist, the arm..the usual place you touch when you want to tell someone you are interested. I feel like my heart is broken, or perhaps chipped, just a teeny weenie bit by seeing him. Is that strange. No one draws up these deep feelings like he does.

It's been 14 years. I'd often bump into him in clubs in Vancouver, Los Angles, Paris, London back in 95 and 96. He was a club kid(ish) and we both have the exact same tastes for places to hang so it's no surprise. He was jetting around as much as me, but for him it was business. I did not ask because that would show that I cared. I knew down inside that he was probably a hooker now or something. I just had no idea he was dong porn all these years. Not that that is a big deal or anything...in fact it's fucking sexy. But strange when you spent so much time with someone and always hopped they'd have lived up to something...dare I say more? He's troubled, and I think always will be. No education, no family, to true friends. Just acquaintances. Kind of the stereotype for this lifestyle.

I'm glad that he moved on out and is not cutting carpets. If it's true ;)

TorontoBoy was getting drunker and drunker by the SECOND. He had not eaten all day and it was his second martini and even though is drunkenness was strange, we just chalked it up to the fact that he had not eaten. 2 more martinis later (4 an a 2 1/2 hr span) and he decided arbitrarily that it was time to go. Whatever I think I could go to bed now, my head was spinning from seeing Matthew anyways. TB walks right out of Lube and into the church street, a cab narrowly misses him.

Very much out of his nature, even when he's pissed.

Now he's hungry, so off to burger king we go. (whatever - I don't want to hear about the carb value in that...) We scaf back a few patties and off to home we go. TB has a massive hiccup attack in the car. It was hilarious. He was not making sense when he spoke and we were laughing at him. He was laughing with us, amused by his easy drunken state. "Shit lady, it only cost $50 to get this way" he says, "normally I will take me $100. FANTASTIC!"

I drop him off at home.

Today I get a call from him. Apparently after he got home he went to bed extremely tired. Very, very, very tired. He was suddenly awoken by his bowel. He had to go. He NEVER goes until he's had his morning coffee and a cigarette. Like the guard change at Buckingham...it's clockwork. Takes a shit and then whomp! 4 huge pukes in a row. Nice.

He cleans up and goes to bed. Sleeps 10 hours straight. Not a stir, no little wake ups.

Today he is all dizzy and he can't remember much of last night.

Except we both recall the face and clothing of the 5'5" European standing behind us when we put our drinks on the counter; and turned out backs. He stared and smiled a both of us. TB and I were having the same drink and were put on the counter at the same time.

He never stopped looking at us and we just racked it up to the fact that he was a cruisie mutha fucker.

We were so wrong.

Through my research today, it seems like TB had "Roofies" put in his drink. Not GHB. Looking back, he shows all the signs and symptoms.

I'm so careful - and I mean CAREFUL when I'm out by myself on a layover partying. It's so afraid of this shit and the state I may be in when by myself. It's dangerous. But, like the invincible teenager that I am at heart, I just never thought it would happen to me, not to one of my friends, in THIS city. Sure I knew it did, but you just read about that, right?

It's scary to think that TB and I were drinking the SAME martini, and put them down side-by-side. It could have been me. Maybe it was meant for me and not TB. Who knows.

You think I have a hard enought time getting permission from my man to go out now...imagine if his wors fear came true - that I was druged. I'm beginning to see his point.

Be careful out there. We did not use common sense and did not watch our drinks and TB is paying for it today.

Thank god it was small dose and that he is ok - no hospital.

Has anyone else had this shit happen to them?