I AM SUCH A KLUTZ

Well. I don't know what else to say. The title says it all. Klutz I am. Why? Hmmm...For the second time in my life, I popped my knee out (my right one). How? While dancing (both times)! At least, this time, it wasn't my fault. Some asshole kicked me in the shin while I was turning the opposite way. Pop goes the right knee.

Kinda weird seeing your leg form weird angles while you fall slowly to the ground. First reaction was to pop it right back in. Ofcourse being surrounded by dancing drunks, all oblivious to my situation, none offered any help nor inquired if I was OK. Heck they must all think I had too much alcohol. So they all kept prancing their merry asses. I had to get out of there or risk being trampled by bloody queens and their faghags (since when did faking epileptic seizure on the dance floor become so cool?) But my friends were nowhere in sight, so I practically dragged myself out of the dance floor. Looking and feeling like a total loser. You don't know how embarrassed I felt. Ugh, I am such a fag! There I was, practically disabled and all I can think about was did the cute guy I was scoping saw my mishap?

Anyway, I'm doing fine now. Somewhat. My Ortho scheduled an MRI. I'm crossing my fingers that I don't need surgery.

Blame it on Flea!

Another Saturday, another night celebrating a friend's birthday. Whoopee. I haven't seen Leslie in a while, so I was looking forward to greeting her a happy 31st birthday. Not to mention that I just got out of work. Earlier on, my friend Flea and myself decided to meet up at her place before going to Leslie's surprise birthday party. I didn't know where it was and the fact that Flea said it was just right around the corner from her place. Not putting into account how Flea puts things in her perspective, I suggested that we take our heavy things and just walk since it was just around the corner.

12 blocks later, we arrived to our designation. It was a beautifully still-in-the-process-of-renovation 3 story old victorian house. I fell in love with the place almost immediately.

Went inside, gave our pleasantries and looked for the birthday girl. Who asks me, "Did you bring the Chicken Adobo?"

Me: Excuse me, what?
Leslie: The Chicken Adobo.
Me: (getting dizzy, thinking it was a joke) I don't, I don't...NO. What are you talking about?
Leslie: Flea said you were going to bring the Chicken Adobo.
Me: But, but...Flea!
Flea: Yes? (all smiles)
Me: Did you forget something?
Flea: (thinking really hard)
Me: Chicken Adobo?
Flea: Oh, yeah. You're supposed to bring Chicken Adobo to the party.
Me: (must have started to look like a raving lunatic)
Flea: (bumbling) You...you know me! I forget things. I...
Me: Oh shit.
Leslie: Don't worry about it. It's just that everybody was looking forward to the main course and none of them have eaten yet.
Chantal: (host) I'll defrost some chicken.
Me: (thinking) OH FUCKING SHIT.
Me: It's ok. Jodi, can you give me a ride?
Jodi: Where?
Me: KFC. Someone forgot to tell me about bringing something.
Flea: (cowtows)

So Jodi, Flea, and myself dashed to the nearest KFC to get the much needed chicken. The whole time Flea was apologizing. I didn't really care but wanted to relish Flea's torment. It wasn't really her fault. I mean, they couldn't get a hold of me and made sure that I knew about bringing the chicken instead of asking Flea to tell me about it.

Anyway, I order a 20 and 16 pcs bucket and what do you know, they ran out of chicken and they didn't want to cook more. At one point, one of their clerks asked me if it was ok for them to give us some (not all) chicken that we ordered and refund the cost of the rest. I was thinking, Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe it showed in my face coz the lady took a step back and never mentioned about refunds again. Instead 25 minutes later, I got my order. I should have asked for a discount but what the heck. All I wanted was the chicken. Atleast it was fresh.

A tribute to Day Dreamer and Soul of a Sailor

Last week I have stumbled upon two blogs that were/are written by soldiers. Army and Navy were both represented. And luck would have it, the two bloggers were in a relationship...with each other. Couldn't get any better, I thought, and both wrote eloquently albeit they were Republicans. I guess no one is perfect. Sadly, both of their blogs went on hiatus due to personal reasons. I don't want to assume anything but rather would like them to know that atleast someone is rooting for them. So I'm reposting something I posted way back. Something about my reason why I joined the military. Here it is:




Funny really. The first year I got out from the Army, I was online and stumbled upon Planetout's request to GLBT service members to share their military service. It was, as I recall, for their Memorial Day edition (I think). I thought, "Might as well." It's not like they were going to publish it online since I was sure there were others that would be more interesting than mine. And to my surprise, I received an email from them stating otherwise. They liked my story, were getting my consent, and possibly a picture. The rest, was online history. So now, I'm sharing it to you all. (I hope PlanetOut is not going to sue me for this)


Sex and Love in the Barracks (their title not mine)

My name is Jake F. I just got out of the military in August of last year (1999), after five years of service. I joined right after high school, since I didn't know what I wanted to do. All I knew was that I wanted to take a break from my studies, so I opted to enlist in the Army. I guess I also joined to prove to everybody and myself that I was a man. I always knew I was gay, but I had trouble dealing with it because I was raised in a Catholic family. The fact that people at school always picked on students they thought were queer also didn't help. So I kept my true self bottled within. Then I enlisted.

During the months of basic training in Missouri, I was oblivious to the men in my company. I never developed any lust or anything. I was too hyped -- adrenaline coursing through my veins the whole time. The only things concerning me were making sure I passed my physical fitness test and trying to ensure that my drill sergeant's attention wasn't directed at me. I had a great time. I felt like a true man, not having any thoughts about another man.

In my third year in the service, I finally let loose my emotions. I fell in love with my best friend at the time. He, too, was a soldier. We were both stationed in Germany. Being overseas, soldiers tend to get drunk almost every night. During one of those binges, things got out of hand. We started playing around, punching each other, like most drunk men do. Then we got rough and started wrestling on the floor. We ended up kissing one another. For the first time in my life, I had sexual intercourse. I was 20 years old. I was dumbfounded. Both of us were scared someone might suspect. We were so scared of the consequences that we eventually drifted apart, and not even a whisper was heard. I once again went into my shell.

When I got transferred to Ft. Bragg, NC, six months later, my urges resurfaced. One day, I found the courage to go to a local gay bar. It was called Spektrum-- or "Rectum," to the regulars. It was a meat market. I was so nervous being in there, only 10 minutes away from post, that I got myself drunk silly. I woke up the next day in some stranger's house. I became a regular. I went there all the time, with no official consequences. I met other soldiers -- enlisted, non-coms, and officers alike. Like me, they were gay and it didn't bother them that at any given time the MPs or even CID could come busting through the door. Inside the bar, we were ourselves. Outside, we were what we had to be-- men in uniform.

My last year in the service, I was no longer afraid of the outcome if any of my peers or superiors found out that I was gay. Little by little, I came out to my friends, and later to my coworkers. I can say this: I was truly accepted. None of them cared that I was gay. I was a hard worker and a good soldier. That was all that mattered to them. By the end, even my chain of command, in a way, protected me if someone from another unit suspected that I was gay. I feel ashamed of that now -- how they must have dodged those "witch hunts" for my head constantly. Heck, I was so out that I didn't care who heard me. Sometimes I would even act "queer" to make my coworkers laugh. I must admit that I abused that protection to the extreme. I've had bad times, but I could never forget about the good times. I had a great experience, and I would do it over again. I think I am one of the lucky ones who met a lot more people who are tolerant than people who are bigots. I joined to prove I was a man, and I did. And I am proud to be a gay man.

You can read the story on planetout.com here.

SAVETOBY.COM

Isn't he/she the cutest bunny ever! It's Toby! Wiggle your nose, come on! Such a cutie pie! And unfortunately the owner wants to eat him! Maybe not in a pie, but actually eat him. The bastard even posted recipes! And on June 30, 2005. Toby will be eaten. The catch? Well, Toby will be saved (not eaten) if the owner receives a total of $50,000 before the alloted date through donations and merchandise.

What a genius! Mind you, I'm not a sadistic fella, but doggone it! I wish I could have thought of it! As of right now, Toby's owner has collected $24,515.62. Wow. I'm sure that the owner is not really going to eat Toby. A funny marketing ploy if you ask me. And PETA couldn't even do anything about it. I think. Anyway, go save Toby!

I just hope that nobody ever think of this crap ever again.

CHARLIE-KUN!

HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY!

Mike's Promotion

Well! It seems like Mike, one of my co-worker's best friend, just got promoted for the second time within a year. One can only assume how that could happen...

Is there something you would like to share Mike?

Testes 1 2 3...

Another drunken friend calling me on his Birthday! Hey Kev! You sexy bitch!

Beware: Driver Cumming!

Having sex in a car sounds so wild and taboo. And I have to admit that I have done the deed three times. Twice while parked (Yeah, I know I was such a tramp!) and once while the car was moving. Now, that time when the vehicle was moving, my cohort and I were sitting in the back seat while his friend was driving (Yeah, I know I WAS such a tramp!).

It is such a thrill but I draw the line somewhere. For instance, I would never let anyone touch nor suck me while I am behind the wheel. No! That it just asking for trouble. Still some people do it. And I've seen my share of evidence while driving down in L.A.

And never alone.

I came to find out (from the person's own mouth) that someone I know has recently used vibrating toys while driving. It's a female. Goodness know what this female was thinking. Apparently, she started off on the lowest setting and thought, hmmm this doesn't feel bad. Getting giddier by the vibrating second, ends up turning it all the way to the highest setting. Bad kitty! Realizes her mistake when nearing her orgasm, looked for the controller. Could...Not...Find...It. Then panic took over but she managed to snatch (lol) the cord from underneath, pulling the toy out. Her body was shaking so much that it took most of her strength just to keep the car on the road.

The other drivers must have thought that she was having seizures. Lucky for them for not knowing exactly why.

The One that THANKFULLY Got Away

Kissing A Fool

I was going through my pictures and stumbled upon this one. It brought back fun and some dismaying memories. I still like the pic though. I think it was taken on my best friend's (Anonymous) birthday (2 years ago). Cute guy. Name starts with N-I-C-K. He's a nice guy. I was smitten. I think he liked me. As well as three other guys (I later found out). I was probably at the bottom (don't even start) of the list. Besides, I doubt that it would have worked. Too horny and he plucks his eyebrows. Last time I heard, he moved to Sacramento. Yet still, frequents a local karaoke bar. I wonder if he finally settled down. Nah!

My fondest memory of him: Used to work part time at an ice cream parlor, so he would sometimes smell like an empty ice cream quart, I would then kiss his neck.

@ 2AM

At 2am my cell starts ringing, and guess what? My drunk best friend calls me and has the balls to ask why I answered? Ummm...

The first thing that I asked was, "What did you do?" Nothing, was his reply. Uh huh. Says he misses me. Reasonable, since we haven't seen each other for a week. I mean, I swear dude, we're still friends. : ) Just because we haven't seen each other that much, it doesn't mean that our friendship has fallen down the wayside. LOL It was funny though. I haven't heard him this drunk in...ok never mind.

Oh, by the way, if you haven't already guessed, that's him (well a drawing of him anyway).

That's what you get for calling me that early in the morning.

Tee Hee

Today, My friend Flea and myself were determining what we should get as a gag gift (maybe more) for our friend Jodi's birthday. We decided on a dildo. While walking to the local sex shop, somehow we ended up talking about butt plugs. Then 'lo and behold, I farted hella loud. We almost fell laughing in the middle of the street. Go figure.

Another day

It was Thursday. Supposedly my day off but ended up working for 4 hours overtime. No big deal. I wanted to show off the t-shirt I got from the Duran Duran Concert the previous night (Wednesday! That's another story!) anyway. It also gave me the chance of scoping out this new temp we have that happens to be "gay" and only works during my days off. I wasn't impressed. LOL I may sound bitchy but it is my territory! All of a sudden, I'm acting like the aloof asshole that thinks he owns the whole pharmacy. I turned to something I hated! I felt sorry afterwards and started acknowledging his presence with a smile or two. I just hope he didn't think I want his little turds (Now off to a tangent here but what can be the equivalent of a heterosexual woman saying "I want to have your babies" to a heterosexual man for a us gay men? This was the closest that I could think of without being too graphic.) I was just being civil.

After work, I had the sudden urge to get a movie. Besides, I needed to buy some razors. So off I went to Wally world (Walmart). Not too crowded. I found myself infront of their dvd selections (if you can call it that) and search for something that was newly released. NADA! Well, except for Spongebob the Movie. I grabbed that and October Sky (mmm...Jake Gyllenhaal). Went and got my razors (the new gillette ones, the vibrating kind). As I was walking on my way to the registers, I thought, "What the heck." and snagged a box of condoms.

Yeah, condoms. Ultra Sensitive. It says that it will feel like you weren't wearing one at all. Why? I don't know. It's not like I have a boyfriend or a fuck buddy. But to voice out my inner Ally McBeal, it's my lottery ticket. What if? The purchasing of the prophyllactic doesn't signify that I'm about to have sex with anyone anytime soon. Rather it suggests that I am very much ready. Yeah, I know I'm full of crap sometimes. So I bought my first box of condoms in over 4 years. After all, what if?

While paying, my cashier was giving me the eye and was talking to one of his colleagues (an old Latina woman) something in Spanish while holding up SpongeBob and the box of condoms a little longer than usual and towards her way. Weird but I didn't think much of it since I was looking for my debit card. I should have not taken French.

Not until I was but a few feet from my car did I recall the news blitz concerning the recent brouhaha by a christian/right wing /nutjob's epiphany regarding the pineapple dweller's sexuality. And then the condoms. The Fucking Condoms! Ha! Oh, well.

MY FELLOW LODIANS

Well, it seems like I was wrong once again. I was not, after all, one of only two bloggers from Lodi, California. In fact, there are several others. Eight people (including myself) happen to chronicle their lives/livelihood via an online journal/blog. And I thought I was the only "HIP" person in Lodi! Dog gone it!

:::insert foot into mouth:::

Check them out! (BUT MAKE SURE Y'ALL COME BACK NOW!)

Glass artist Mira Woodworth's blog: www.glassblog.blogspot.com

Singer/songwriter Brandon Tyler's blog: www.brandontyler.net

Reporter Layla Bohm's blog: www.thesmudge.com/reporter

Band Stadium Drive's blog: www.myspace.com/stadiumdrive

Band Skys of Fire's blog: www.myspace.com/skysoffire

Personal blog of Bryan Goss: www.livejournal.com/users/boywithnoarms

Personal blog of Jessie Dorris: www.livejournal.com/users/jessiegirl_ca


Note: List of bloggers were taken from the February 19, 2005 issue of the Lodi News-Sentinel

WTF EVER!

THE GOOD

Going out with friends on a Saturday night to see a live band play and drinking to our hearts content.


THE BAD

Those friends would be straight horny women staring at the same guys.


THE UGLY

Those straight horny bitches hooking up with the same guys we've been eyeing (I never said I thought I had a chance. We were in a straight bar after all.) While I get introduced to the only "other" gay man in the bar who happens to be someone I WOULD NEVER TRY TO HOOK UP WITH. EVER!


TO TOP IT OFF

It would appear (from the look of the other gay man's face) he didn't think I was kosher either and probably thought it was my idea to be introduced. UGH! Mikey! DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN WITHOUT MY CONSENT!

I'm a Coward, Crazy, Picky, Gay Man

COWARD...

I was recently interviewed by a nice reporter for the local newspaper (Lodi News-Sentinel). Why? Well, it seems like I'm one of a few (OK, so there might be just the two of us. Who's the other? I don't know either) local bloggers. Before typing anything else, I would like to thank Tricia for an exceptional job and warm voice. We did the interview via phone. Little did she know that I was only wearing my blue boxers and occassionally "scratched" down there a few times while we were talking. Hope she doesn't feel violated after learning of this minor detail.

The interview went well. I think. I wish I could have said something like with regards to "world peace" or whatever else is PC. Instead of a lot of umms and ahhs. Also, I had a lot of things in mind to mention but they never came up. Things that would make me sound so demure and wise. Oh, well.

At the end of the interview, Tricia (the reporter) asked if I would like to have my picture taken. Immediately, I said somewhere along the line of, "Sure! But aren't you worried I might break the camera?" (insert friendly laughter) As soon as I uttered those words, I just realized the commitment I aggreed to. Yikes! For three days, I loomed over the fact that my picture would be in the paper. For each passing day, I got more nervous. What the hell was I thinking? Being interviewed was one thing but slapping a pic of myself with it is another story.

I love my city. Lodi, California. Wine Country. It has a small town mentality. Get my drift? Do I even have to mention that this is Bush Country? So imagine, the people of Lodi, CA reading this small article concerning local bloggers with me and the other blogger's pic with our respective urls. Now imagine them reading the contents of my blog then glancing back at the pic on the paper, etc. Don't get me wrong, I'm very open about myself. I just shudder with the thought of people looking at me.

So I emailed Tricia stating that I didn't want to have my pic taken after all. I know, I know.

CRAZY...

It's lent season. As a Catholic, I gave up something for 40 days and 40 nights. I don't know why. I haven't been to church for a great while. The last time I went was when I had to take a picture with my family for our church's 100th year anniversary. Anyway, I gave up eating rice. No big deal for you guys but for a Filipino, an asian (pacific islander my ass!) it's a hard and crazy thing to do!

I don't know what I was thinking. Rice, I practically eat it with every meal! I've told my friends and they too think that I'm out of my mind. They even said that I'm not going to last the whole time. To tell you the truth, I don't think I can either. The second non-rice night, I had a dream of gorging myself with pots and pots of white rice! It doesn't help either when I'm surrounded by steamed rice every day I come home. It's funny how your nose picks up the scent of something you haven't eaten in a while with great intensity. I've caught myself drifting over to the rice cooker and just inhaling deeply. But I've persevered and I'm determined to finish. I just hope my friends understand why I constantly snap at them.

PICKY...

Last Saturday, a few of my friends went to the local gay bar. Played pool. Had a shot. Drank a few beers. Danced. And unfortunately, I was hit on. It was like a drive by flirting. It was nice to know that you're being lusted after. YES! I STILL GOT IT! The only thing that bothered me was that as soon as he opened his mouth, I smelled garlic! HINT: BREATHMINTS! Or even gum! I had to hold my breath while we talked. I think he decided that I wasn't 'good' enough for him when I started to turn purple.

Who in their right mind would eat something garlicy before going out to a bar/club with the intent of meeting someone? The first thing that pops into my head would be, "I am not going to put my penis in that mouth!" or maybe, "I wonder if he ate corn?" What can I say, I like a fresh breath and for my penis to smell clean.

GAY MAN...

'Coz I still like penis.

TADA!

Well, today's my Birthday!

28th to be exact!

And to think that I feel like I'm only a day older than 27.

(pictures are to follow)

Poo Shy's Dilemma

I've written about one of my co-workers. You know, the one who has trouble taking a dump with someone around, hence the name Poo Shy. She has recently discovered the joys of coffee enemas. Say what?! Yes, you read it right, COFFEE ENEMAS! It's supposed to help you detoxify, give you a boost of energy, and etc. Why not? I mean if something were up my ass for 10-15 minutes at a time, I would feel energized and giddy the day/moment after. Hopefully, that would be the only similarity. The process of discharging that amount of coffee liquid sounds very uncomfortable. I can only compare it to having a case of very very bad diarrhea.

Which leads me to Poo Shy. She decided to try it out. Besides, no one would know. (Except for me and all my joyful readers) She went and checked if she had all the necessary supplies:

• Lube (for ease of insertion)
• Water (distilled)
• Coffee (has to be ground, not instant nor decaffeinated. not sure if the flavor matters)
• Filters (for obvious reasons)
• Enema (a bag with a tube where you put the tepid water and then insert into anus)

Unfortunately, she was out of enemas. She waited for days before she could get the nerve to buy one. Who would dare? I'm sure people who were in dire need of an enema for health reasons have no problem buying one. But she was embarrassed of what the cashier might think when she hands him/her the enema. It's kind of stupid really. What else would you need an enema for? Beer bong? She thought, "Fuck them! They can all stick it up their asses!"

She goes into Super Walmart. Having found some courage, yet not quite, she decided to grab a few things before getting the enema. (Maybe to throw off the cashier?) 'Lo and behold, Super Walmart has a self-check out lane! And Poo shy seizes the opportunity and began ringing herself of her purchases:

• Scented Candle (smells like...)
• Magazine (Brad and Jen breakup!)
• Fleets Enema (giddy with just the thought)
• Pretty Woman (AGE VERIFICATION REQUIRED. PLEASE HOLD)

FUUUUUUUUUUCK!

As you can imagine, it wasn't her lucky night after all. The cashier (a guy, not sure if he's cute since she didn't even mention it) immediately stated that kids think they can get away buying things normally adults can buy and asked her what was that she was buying. She feebishly pointed out that, "Maybe because this movie (Pretty Woman) is Rated R?" In the meanwhile the cashier was checking out her inventory and on the screen with big green bold letters were :

ENEMA, FLEETS $2.99

I can only imagine what the guy was thinking while my friend was clumsily perusing her purse for her darn driver's license. By the time she finished paying, she was so embarrassed, she left the store with her tail between her legs.

A Hard Pill

Friends. I love them all. I don't know what to do without them. They are there for support, to make your life interesting, laughs, encouragement, sometimes a pain in the ass, and sometimes a source of the bitter truth. They tell you things that you know but don't want to hear. It's a double edge sword, friends knowing you.

For the past past few months, almost all (ok, all of them) keep insisting that I get laid or something (I'm not quite clear about the 'something' part and I don't intend to ask them). So it leads me to believe that maybe I've been hella grumpy lately. Or maybe because I have stated that "I needed to get laid!" I can't decide which. It doesn't matter because I have been warned that they're going to hire a stripper for my birthday. I hope not! I'm not into SLEAZE! IF ANY OF YOU GUYS ARE READING THIS, NO STRIPPERS! Period!

Even acquaintances manage to give their shot at my non-existing love life. One, a straight guy, gave me pointers on how to "snag" the guy. Gave me all the details. How my first date should be going out to watch a movie or see a play, anything that involves not talking for long periods of time (I think he's giving me a hint here but I can't quite grasp it yet). Then offer to go get a drink at a place where I know some friends of mine would be present so my pseudo-date would see me interact with my friends. His words: "You're a cool guy, Jake. A really nice guy, charming, and funny. All of us think so. You just get nervous and clam up. So go to places where you'll be comfortable. Some place where your friends are. Once he sees you amongst your friends, you got him." He even offered to go with me to the local gay bar. It was very nice of him to say all those things but I was waiting for him to add something about my looks. Oh well, but I did appreciate the sentiment. Although, I doubt he was completely sincere. I had the suspicion he was trying to get me distracted so I can let my guard down. You see, I was one of my friends' cock blocker for the night!

That's not all! For some odd reason, lately, I have been told that I'm scared. First from a drunk friend. I let that one go because I thought she was just talking out of her ass. So I ignored her. Then another friend told me along the same lines that I'm scared. Then another. And another. Just last week, I have found out that my friends were actually discussing why I haven't dated for a long time. Their conclusion: is that I'm scared. No Fucking Way!

After all, I've had my heart broken several times. 3 were the worst kind (the ones where I was deeply committed). But each time I bounced back. Each time I feel the hope of 'the next one would be the one' dwindling. Then it became that before even each time happens, I think of why it wasn't going to last. I am damaged. I hate to admit it, but I am. For 4 years I've held on to something Brad (my last ex) gave to me. A key chain that looks like a buckle with the letter J in the middle. It reminded me of the good times that we shared and intimate yet private kisses that we gave each other whenever we're outside. It reminded me of his caress, him always wanting music playing when we're making love. It reminded me of how he would light up each time I sing to him whenever and where ever. And it still reminds me of the first time he told me that He loved me. Then the deceit and lies all comes back to me. Well how about that, it's only a silver key chain/buckle after all.

For more than 4 years I've held on to that trinket. 2 weeks ago, I gave it to one of my co-workers to get it out of my area, my life. She was happy to oblige.

It's a hard pill to swallow...Truth. It took me awhile. I'm not sure if I think that I'm now a better man because of it. But I can say this much, I've gained some hope back.

YIPPEE!

I got DSL! FINALLY!

Missed Opportunity?

Today, during lunch, I went to the gas station to buy bottled water and a newspaper. At first, it was like any other day. I'd go inside, grab a Dasani in the cooler, check out which paper catches my eye, and pay for my purchases. It wasn't. Instead something weird happened. Oh, it's not like I suddenly heard angels or a prophecy unfolded right before my eyes, something else. I didn't see Elvis buying coffee either.

As I was about to get my water, another guy jumped infront of me and opened the cooler right before the one where the bottled waters were. I thought, How rude! I was going to say something when the guy turned to face me, then that sudden feeling of familiarization hit me. I know this fucker. A very clear and concrete image of him laughing and a conversation we had came to mind. I don't think it was deja vu. I knew that it happened. This is justified because the guy did a double take, he actually eyed me up and down. It looked like he was about to say something when instead I opened the cooler and took out my bottled water of choice. I didn't know what to say. Ofcourse, I clammed up and became so aloof, he must have thought I had something up my ass.

What the hell was wrong with me? It's not like he would think that I am hitting on him when I ask if I knew him from somewhere. Besides, I have a good memory when it comes to faces and names. I mean he did act like he recognize me as well. No harm done, right? The feeling got stronger. I do know him, but where? So when were on line, I had another opportunity to say something. And so did he...

We paid for our stuff at the same time. He gave me one last look, a restrained one. I also gave him one last look, bit my tongue and left the store.

I wonder what he was going to say. Still, the image of him laughing and talking lingers in my head. Maybe it was just my imagination after all. But I can't shake it out of my head.