Mr. Hilton

Mr. Hilton, you must be worth a trillion bucks...

A few days ago, a random guy added me on Facebook. Turns out he goes to a local high school, so I decided to keep him in my friends list, since he was obviously gay, and decent looking. He seemed really typical, nothing special. But let me tell you, I'm guessing his pictures are outdated...

On Wednesday, August 4th, he came into GAP Outlet, to come visit me. He had never been to the mall which my store is located, which was surprising since he didn't live that far away. Mr. Hilton looked much, much, more stylish and attractive than his photographs made him seem. He swiftly came up the side of the dominant column of the second "I wall" (a word used to describe the front display on a wall separating men's and women's), where I was working on separating newly marked down graphic tees from the ones that were still full price.

The night before he had told me he didn't like my hair (my hair). He told me it was too high and wasn't interesting. He told me it was boring, basically. I got over it, or so I thought. For some reason, Mr. Hilton's critique stuck. I haven't had hairspray in my hair in a few days. I've been wearing it forward (my hair).

This kid may seem like a prick, but you ain't seen nothing yet, bitches!

While the operator was clearly peacocking, he up-down-ed me. I thought nothing of it, people do it all the time. If only you knew how good my ass looked in these jeans, or so I thought. Before I could finish soaking up the looks in my mind he spoke, "Your jeans don't fit." I was like, mother fucking bitch say what?! Then he looked down on the 1.5" heel on my tan boots. He wasn't winning any points.

That night he IM-ed me and apologized profusely. He claimed, "I was really nervous." Who the fuck in their right mind insults the hottest piece of ass they've ever laid eyes on?! But whatever... after lots of guilt and conversation, we made plans for him to come over, today, at noon.

Aneta and Madame Dupont decided to go to the beach, leaving me alone with Mr. Hilton. We were talking the whole time except the last 30 minutes of his stay. At one point he said to me, "I"m definitely bigger." I laughed, climbed off of him, made myself visible (as did he), and I said, "Think again." His eyes lit up, and he bit his lip. He climbed on top of me, and kissed me...

Mr. Hilton, I like the way you push and glide.

Europe III

This is my third and final blog on my trip to Europe. We move on to romance...

It was in JFK, that I first met Sebastien, who is Marilyn's cousin. He was clearly aware he looked good seeing as he flipped his hair when he came over. I knew the only to intrigue him is if I was the only one not interested in him. So I waited for him to introduce himself, or have Marilyn do it. He wanted to be my friend, because I seemed to be on his wavelength (when in all honesty, I think mine is slightly above his).

We became friends in London, when on the way to Piccadilly Circus. He stole my camera to take pictures, and he took the fist picture IN EUROPE with my camera. It was cute, but overbearing. Over the next few days it was just some gay jokes that progressively got more serious--on both sides, and increasing amounts of conversation.

We roomed together in Florence, with Aaren. We sat up and spoke all night. We even chatted while in our underwear (getting dresses, but that doesn't sound as good) before we got ready to go to the Club.

The next day we got gelato, I remember, I got mint, and he got coffee. I told him that I almost got the same flavor. He said do you want a taste. Here I am thinking that I have to use my spoon... he lifted some up. For some reason, I said You can try mine as well. I don't even know why I acted this way to be honest. And we fed one another gelato on the streets of Italy. There were several other times too. It's a shame that no one could have documented it.

While at dinner in Assisi, he tried to kiss me over a plate of spaghetti, and I realized that this was all too perfect.

One the last night, in Rome. Sebastien roomed down the hall. After I made him over that night into perfection, he was supposed to get settled down for the night then come to my room to hang out. He never showed up and went to go see where he was and he wasn't in his room. I found out he instead went to Brittany's room. I went into Liz and Samantha's room, to look out the window, into their room, and I saw them kissing on the bed! I got upset and Gretta, and Marilyn comforted me. While comforting me I formed a scheme.

I knew how Sebastien would act. So from there I told Gretta and Marilyn to act like they hadn't seen me since room check. I went back to Liz and Samantha's room and told them to interrupt them and say I looked in the room and got really upset and left. I told Aaren to say he thought I was in Sebastien's room. I stayed in the Southern Girls' room, and hid in their closet. Everything went according to plan. But after not finding me for 20 minutes, he went back to Brittany's room. I went to "bed" and had Aaren interrupt again and say he found me...

Sebastien came in and "woke me up" and wanted to talk to me, we went and sat in the lobby and chatted for quite some time. I told him how I felt about him, and how I know I don't want to like him. And he was like telling me he's not gay at all. BUT HE TOTALLY IS. He basically broke my heart, and I think it was because I made it seem like I didn't wanna like him, when secretly I totally just wanted to get married right then and there.

We hung out in the Airport the whole time on the way back home. And probably would have on the plane, but I needed time with Marilyn more. We even got money exchanged just so we could bet espressos in LHR. When we were back in JFK, things really seemed different. It was the first place we ever met. We went to Starbucks together and got cinnamon scones, and he got a coffee with it. I told him how cinnamon scones were my favorite, and he told me, "I'll never be able to forget that now," and giggled while he took a bite

When I first said goodbye to him I gave him half a hug which was more than a friendly bro hug. And after the goodbye chit chat, and he had to walk the other way to his car, it felt like he looked into my soul when he said goodbye. From there until we got on the bus, I didn't look back. And when I was getting on the bus I actually looked, and he was no where to be found. I think it was best that I never know whether he looked back or not after.

Individuality

I think that every day that modern culture progresses, I see that people are trying harder and harder to express their individuality. The truth is that most of us aren't individuals.

I was on Facebook earlier today and saw that someone who's quite generic and joins fan pages often and strives to be like her popular peers joined a fan page called, "Don't ever compare me to her. I am ME." I just rolled my eyes and thought, maybe if you didn't wear a North Face, and American Eagle from head to toe, you wouldn't be compared to the 1,000's of others who do.

People get so hung up on their identity, and it's not defined by who you are, or what you post on your Facebook page. It's defined by how you dress, how you do your hair, how you walk, how much you weigh, who you hang out with, and what you do. You can argue that everyone has their quirks, and blah blah blah, but truth be told, their so subtle that noone sees them and noone really cares.

Supposedly we live in a classless society in the United States. Whadda joke, right?! Though it isn't clearly defined officially, we can see it everywhere. I see it at work, while I'm shopping, when I'm at school, and even in my own home. It's everywhere and we can't escape it.

I want to say I'm an individual, but I even know that I hardly am. But I'm gay, so it's a little unfair to the rest of you I guess. Boo hoo!

In sum, I'm tired of people who do the same thing as everyone else--complain about how though their life is, shopping at the same stores as everyone else, and copying things and saying you were "inspired." Just realize you aren't unique so you can get on with the rest of your life.

Greetings, Gays, and the GAP.

This evening at the GAP was one of the best nights I think I've ever had. Being after the holidays, the store happened to be in great condition, and I was closing for the first time in a while. A guy named Christian who had started there when he was my age, and one of the best managers there, Stacy, were closing with me. I looked fabulous and my make-up was still as fresh as it was at 1, when I came in. I also had a surprise lunch with Beyonce, better known as Sasha Fierce.

Initially when meeting Christian, I didn't like how he could give me a taste of my own sarcasm. He was cute too, but not as put together as myself. We warmed up to one another quickly after. I am slightly bothered that Stacy might like him more, and she liked me before he came back. We made fun of a woman in a wheel chair who wore sunglasses, and planned to bomb the store in the fitting rooms after closing. But meeting Christian was like meeting myself, gay and all--but not the current man of interest surprisingly.

Earlier in the day, around 3 or 4, I was just floating on the floor making sure things were tidy, and up to par. I was then approached by a woman who I remembered because she came in with a really cute, apparently gay, boy, who had a blond Mohawk, which to my surprise is multicultural, if you know what I mean. After establishing the fact that I'm gay (which was the hardest, and to me funniest, part for his friend Naomi), she asked for my number for him. Since he didn't approach me himself, I left him with my name to look me up on facebook. Haha, Internet, thanks for letting me establish a relationship from a distance. We will call this boy Ronnie.

I looked amazing today also. Despite being as sick as a dog, my style and visage were right on target. I looked great, my make-up was nice and smooth, my freshly washed outfit was crisp and flawless, they were painted on me with masculine precision. Everyone noticed, and realized, it was nice.

I hung out with Diane, and went to Outrage, it would have been better had Charles been home. But we had fun for the most part. I saw Ronnie on Facebook, and he has his nipples pierced which is a little off, but his tummy is so smooth, I'm gonna get him quick and easy. And I don't even know if I want to see Christian again, I love and hate him. I just know he's equally confident, which won't work, because I need to be that one in the relationship, but he's fucking fine as hell! I'm still in Outrage now, Diane left, and Charles is on his way I think, but he probably works tomorrow.

That's the GREAT DAY of Greetings, Gays and the GAP.