Story behind the pictures

I have been up to an interesting sociological experiment. This is the beginning of my series of posts on this. They are not sequential, but more stream of consciousness; so it jumps from past to present to future across various physical locations. This is not really a linear narrative, it begins somewhere, sometime and this is as good as a beginning

I have always known I have close to zero sex drive; so I did not have the need to be on any sex hookup sites. After several offline encounters in the gay capital of the world, San Francisco, last month,  I thought I would give this whole onlike hookup gee-whiz thing a try. Not knowing where the peeps hookup online, I started with the last (or first) refuge of the huddled masses of cyberspace,  Craigslist.  I took some pictures of my torso, face not showing, on my cell phone camera and posted it on the m4m section of San Francisco Bay Area craigslist. I was not looking for sex, and was looking for some interesting story angles and connecting with people.

After a few responses that offered no story potential and only offered sex, there was an email from a photographer artist L, who said my pictures were bad quality and if I model nude for him, he could give me my pictures for free. That sounded like the beginning of a story. I emailed him to say I was interested and I would agree if you’d agree not to take pictures of my head and torso together. He emailed back to say he agrees and asked when I could be over. I emailed back to say, whenever you want me. He said preferably afternoons at my studio in the hills – so we can make the most of the natural light. I emailed back to say yes.  He emailed back detailed directions to his house, up in the hills off of San Francisco. He included his number in the directions, so I called him right back. He said he was glad to hear from me and he couldn’t shoot pictures today because the sun was not out. I said give me about an hour’s notice any day and I would over at his place. He called me back in two days to ask if I could be over at his studio that afternoon. I said yes.

Gai ou Vrai ?

I was in Berkeley in  East Bay. P was in Los Gatos in South Bay. J was in the City.  Geography shaped us into three points of a triangle. Hormones tangled us up in a lusty triangle.

We met when we volunteered on some committe for the Indian American gala. Over long planning sessions and shared interests and common heritage, we bonded. We started hanging out together. Then one day, P asked me out.  I went full hog on all the first date stuff – the flowers and dressing up. We kissed in the car as P dropped me to my car. Yeah, so it went well.  I asked P out on our second date. It went great.  It was soon to be third date time and the expectations of having sex were building up.  J knew P and I were seeing each other.

Our third date was the day before Christmas Eve.  I asked P out on a coffee-and-show date; coffee in Palo Alto at our favorite coffee shop and drive to Berkeley to catch a show – an avant-garde, way left-liberal interpretation of the Nutcracker. My ‘back-of-mind’ plan was P would see through my  Berkeley plan; which was arranged so I could invite P home after the show and we could get it on.

J knew our plans vaguely, so I was surprised  to see a text message from J as I was setting out to Palo Alto that afternoon. His text read, “I have to see you today.”  When I called J he said, “I lust for you, man. It is driving me crazy. I want to be with you now.” Whoa – when it rains, it pours and how? If I have not said this before, P is a woman, J is a man and for full disclosure, I’m a man 🙂

How far would I go?

I was flying into DC on Thanksgiving Day, and I thought it wouldn’t be a full flight. So, I was really surprised when I was bumped up into First. Maybe the check-in agent really liked me 😉

 The seat belts signs had been switched off after take-off from Heathrow and I got up to use the facilities. As I was coming out, I saw an older, portly man outside the door.

I held the door open to let him in, but it looked like he was stalking me 🙂 for he immediately began a conversation. “Where are you from? You look exotic”.  I don’t normally get the “where are you from?” till much later in any conversation, so I began my litany.

When I got to the part about my roots from India, he says, “I was the at the Taj hotel in Mumbai last year for a wedding”. This was the day after the terrorist attack on 26th November in Mumbai and before I could respond he went on. “It was the wedding of my partner’s son. He is from India. My partner is super-smart. He makes some widgets and is the largest exporter of widgets from America. I can tell you are super-smart too. What do you do?” I was silent throughout this outpour.