Yes, the word "sleaze" is in the title for a reason.

The sum of an exchange between me and an extremely aggressively drunk twink tonight at the annual Sleaze Dance:

T: [dancing very close, fondling my hips]
I: [bemused, slight smile]
T: [breathily, in my ear] "Hi, I'm Dylan!"
I: [still bemused, deciding to be friendly] "J. Nice to meet you-- do you go here?"
T: [ignoring questions, grinding at me]
I: [trying to see how dilated his pupils are]
T: [suddenly ducking his head and trying to bite my right nipple off]
I: [ow! wtff?! nudging his head away from sensitive nerve endings]
T: [trying to unbuckle my belt]
I: [thinking "okay, that's it. back off, blondie." and stopping him]
T: "What's wrong?" [more dancing] "Wanna go somewhere? I'll tie you up and fuck you silly. That's what you'd really like." [going for my crotch again]
I: "Um... I don't think so." [intercepting his hands again]
T: "Do you have a small dick?"
I: [wondering how upset Security would be if this little wanker should be found dead upon the morrow] "Never had any complaints, so..."
T: [possibly hoping that the third time's the charm, going for my belt yet again]
I: "Wouldja quit that?"
T: "Why not? What's the big deal?"
I: "I've already lost respect for most of my fellow students, I'd rather not lose it for myself."
T: "It's okay if you have a small dick. I don't care about that."
I: [grasping at last shreds of civility] "Well, I don't know your points of comparison, so I really can't--"
T: "Wanna go somewhere we can compare 'em?"
I: "... Sorry. Not gonna happen."
T: "Why not?"
I: [because you're a pushy, rude little shit, and you'd probably give me some syphilis to remember you by in the bargain, is why not, but I have a nicer-sounding reason that also happens to be true, so:] "I have a boy back in Seattle who'd be very upset with me."
T: "Oh, that's so sweet, I love it!" [promptly dancing away to stick his hand down Texas Mark's pants]
I: [giving Wych the "dude, what the fucking fuck?!" look]

Okay, now honestly: have I been under a rock so much that I don't know that that's a socially acceptable way for gay men to behave? Granted, this kid was cute, but not nearly enough so to get away with acting like that much of an ass. According to Texas Mark, he's currently passed out upstairs in TM's bed. A real class act, that one.

I just can't take it any more. I realized as I was looking around Bates tonight that I have no real attraction to any male on this campus... save perhaps one, but that's not relevant here, as he wasn't in attendance, and he's straight anyway-- of course. All the use I have for them now is as selfishness trip: I want them to want me for the pleasure of being able to turn them down, as an ego boost-- really, the thing that bothered me the most about last night was the fact that all the little fucktard registered was that I was male and breathing; as soon as he realized he wasn't getting anywhere with me, he moved on to the next piece of meat without so much as a by-your-leave. I had not the remotest desire to actually do anything with him or any of the others. And while I grant that our school doesn't have that many men to begin with, you'd think there would be at least some interesting ones, even in such a small group. Even the ones who, in another life and reality, would be attractive if only by virtue of their looks are so tainted that I don't even want to get within ten feet of them, much less touch them. Their energy just makes my skin crawl.

Oh lord, and did the music ever suck. I need to go back to the Batcave soon to wash the echo of bad mass-market R&B from my soul.

All in all: an evening to remember, but not necessarily to cherish... though in a certain sense, oddly liberating. Against all odds, it seems my sexual habits have matured: I am minutes away from going to bed alone, and I feel nothing so much as relief. Craziness.

Four more weeks...

Yes, the word "sleaze" is in the title for a reason.

The sum of an exchange between me and an extremely aggressively drunk twink tonight at the annual Sleaze Dance:

T: [dancing very close, fondling my hips]
I: [bemused, slight smile]
T: [breathily, in my ear] "Hi, I'm Dylan!"
I: [still bemused, deciding to be friendly] "J. Nice to meet you-- do you go here?"
T: [ignoring questions, grinding at me]
I: [trying to see how dilated his pupils are]
T: [suddenly ducking his head and trying to bite my right nipple off]
I: [ow! wtff?! nudging his head away from sensitive nerve endings]
T: [trying to unbuckle my belt]
I: [thinking "okay, that's it. back off, blondie." and stopping him]
T: "What's wrong?" [more dancing] "Wanna go somewhere? I'll tie you up and fuck you silly. That's what you'd really like." [going for my crotch again]
I: "Um... I don't think so." [intercepting his hands again]
T: "Do you have a small dick?"
I: [wondering how upset Security would be if this little wanker should be found dead upon the morrow] "Never had any complaints, so..."
T: [possibly hoping that the third time's the charm, going for my belt yet again]
I: "Wouldja quit that?"
T: "Why not? What's the big deal?"
I: "I've already lost respect for most of my fellow students, I'd rather not lose it for myself."
T: "It's okay if you have a small dick. I don't care about that."
I: [grasping at last shreds of civility] "Well, I don't know your points of comparison, so I really can't--"
T: "Wanna go somewhere we can compare 'em?"
I: "... Sorry. Not gonna happen."
T: "Why not?"
I: [because you're a pushy, rude little shit, and you'd probably give me some syphilis to remember you by in the bargain, is why not, but I have a nicer-sounding reason that also happens to be true, so:] "I have a boy back in Seattle who'd be very upset with me."
T: "Oh, that's so sweet, I love it!" [promptly dancing away to stick his hand down Texas Mark's pants]
I: [giving Wych the "dude, what the fucking fuck?!" look]

Okay, now honestly: have I been under a rock so much that I don't know that that's a socially acceptable way for gay men to behave? Granted, this kid was cute, but not nearly enough so to get away with acting like that much of an ass. According to Texas Mark, he's currently passed out upstairs in TM's bed. A real class act, that one.

I just can't take it any more. I realized as I was looking around Bates tonight that I have no real attraction to any male on this campus... save perhaps one, but that's not relevant here, as he wasn't in attendance, and he's straight anyway-- of course. All the use I have for them now is as selfishness trip: I want them to want me for the pleasure of being able to turn them down, as an ego boost-- really, the thing that bothered me the most about last night was the fact that all the little fucktard registered was that I was male and breathing; as soon as he realized he wasn't getting anywhere with me, he moved on to the next piece of meat without so much as a by-your-leave. I had not the remotest desire to actually do anything with him or any of the others. And while I grant that our school doesn't have that many men to begin with, you'd think there would be at least some interesting ones, even in such a small group. Even the ones who, in another life and reality, would be attractive if only by virtue of their looks are so tainted that I don't even want to get within ten feet of them, much less touch them. Their energy just makes my skin crawl.

Oh lord, and did the music ever suck. I need to go back to the Batcave soon to wash the echo of bad mass-market R&B from my soul.

All in all: an evening to remember, but not necessarily to cherish... though in a certain sense, oddly liberating. Against all odds, it seems my sexual habits have matured: I am minutes away from going to bed alone, and I feel nothing so much as relief. Craziness.

Four more weeks...