“I have been telling you to blog for YEARS – GODDAMNIT!! you never paid attention to anyone that really worried about you. Go on – get on the bus – but I better see that fucking travel blog.” – Jeff McMillen
For a short period I attended a gay men’s support group. At the beginning of each meeting each person took turns discussing what they had been doing and how the previous week had been. Each week me and another guy invariably would include our sexual encounters. At some point the other guys in the group began referring to us as scorekeepers. I didn’t mind. Some time later though I began to realize that they weren’t using the term in a positive or affectionate way. In fact they were annoyed that we couldn’t discuss what we were doing without mentioning our sex lives. I don’t know how to talk about myself without talking about sex. I stopped attending the group soon after. Maybe I’m an addict. Maybe I’m a perv. I don’t know. I spend a large part of each day looking for, planning, and having sex. Oftentimes I’m working to see if I can combine sex partners to get two or three guys together at once so I can save time and free up the rest of my day for other things. I can’t imagine life without sex, and I can’t discuss my life without including sex. So I just needed to put that out there, that this trip is probably going to include sex. So if anyone wants to keep score with me – in the two and a half days I was in Chicago, I fucked with 8 guys. Also, I was having trouble with my camera at first. I only took two pictures while I was there. The first was of me getting fucked by a cute 23 year old Latino, and the other is attached. I’m really going to make an effort to take more pictures of the places I visit and do more than fuck,
My awesome second cousin David once told me that for the first several years of his life he actually believed his initials G.D. stood for Goddamned, because his mother often repeated the phrase, “You make me so goddamned angry.” David was a late in life accident for his parents, and he was often reminded that he wasn’t a happy or welcome accident. This probably accounts for the majority of his FABulous humor. David and his wiener dog Gilda hosted me during my time in Detroit, and I had a great time with one of my relatives I don’t get to see enough of, and enjoyed meeting his dog who couldn’t get enough of humping my arm. To show an example of how wonderful he is, upon my departure from Detroit, David and I knocked back two vodka cocktails before leaving for the bus station. David gave me a few Xanax’s to bring with me on the bus. And then when we got out to his car for the ride to the station, there was a fresh cocktail waiting for me in the cupholder. Very few people ever think to include a car cocktail. He’s my only gay relative and I love him to death. When I first found out that I had a gay relative years after coming out of the closet, I asked my mother why she didn’t ever tell me that cousin David in Detroit was gay. Her answer, “David’s always been different.” Yes, well. The attached portrait hangs in David’s guest bathroom. The small engraved plate reads “mother”, however this is not in fact a portrait of his mother.
I wasn’t lucky enough to get my preferred seat in the very back of the bus, that went to an extremely obese man who apparently paid for early boarding so he could spread himself across 3 whole seats. Across from me is a loose group of folks who apparently bonded during their wait in the station. One of them is a cop in DC. who announced from the moment of boarding that this would be the party bus. For the last 20 minutes or so he has commandeered a neighbors laptop and has been loudly playing rap music or hip hop or whatever the fuck it is that not everyone wants to hear, but I guess he doesn’t really give a fuck because he’s a cop and he gets what he wants and he’s determined that this is his party bus. Someone from the front came back a few minutes ago and said that some people up front have complained. He’s turned the music down, but still obviously doesn’t give a fuck that the point is he’s disturbing others. Oh well, at Cleveland I go one way and he goes the other.
Hey, so this is my very first attempt ever to create and maintain a blog. I’m really not sure what I am doing. I don’t know how I want to attack this thing. I’m not sure how serious vs snarky I want to be. I don’t know if I want this to be more about my personal feelings or a highlight of strange things I see along the way. I guess I will figure it out as I go along. When I first thought of blogging, I had a few ideas in mind. The first being that I am very bad about keeping people up to date with what I am doing and I figured this would be a good way for anyone that cared to check in and see where I am and what’s going on. The second idea was that I personally have a very bad memory and by blogging about what I do, this would be a good way for me to remember this trip. The third idea relates to the fact that I’ve been extremely depressed and borderline suicidal and that maybe writing about my experiences might somehow lead me to finding things I like about myself, cheer me up, and keep me going. We’ll see how it goes.
So my challenge with blogging so far has been that I have found very few moments where I have internet access, a charged battery, and the time to write. Greyhound advertises that they have a new line of buses that includes both external power outlets and wifi, but it turns out that those are only available on 88 buses out of a fleet of over 1,000. Bus terminals generally have both wifi and outlets, but I’ve found that on average our stops are no more than 20 minutes at a time which doesn’t really allow my electronics enough time to juice up.
The trip has been ok so far. I started out of Portland on Sunday Aug 5th. By Monday night, I got stuck in Coeur D’Alane, ID with no place to stay, so I spent the night drinking coffee and eating ice cream floats at the Denny’s down the road from the gas station that serves as a bus stop. Carla the night waitress was very sweet and allowed me to hole up in a booth until 6am. After that, I was very careful to try and make sure that I was first in line to get on a bus so hopefully I won’t get stuck like that again. My next stop was Chicago where I stayed a couple days, and actually ended up staying longer than expected because when I was ready to go I couldn’t find the bus station. Right now I am in the Detroit suburb of Clawson. I’m visiting my only gay relative, my second cousin David. I plan to leave tomorrow and continue on east and am trying to figure out my next stop.
By the end of my very first week on the road, I rolled into Detroit with a bad case of crabs. I’m not sure where exactly I picked them up. I figured there is a pretty equal chance that I got them from one of the many buses I was on or from the two nights I spent at the Chicago bathhouse Steamworks. Luckily cousin David was unfazed and ran right out and picked up some Nix with conditioner, so not only was I freed from the clutches of crabs, my hair was left soft and manageable.