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Monday, 7 March 2011

Cruising Hong Kong

Hello, Friends!

Have you observed how some Hong Kong streets are named descriptively? For example, Square Street is one that has four right angles, Ladder Street is one that requires you to step up and down its length, New Street is one that has just been created recently, and so forth.

That's because all of Hong Kong is far too busy to think up of "clever" names, such as national symbols or historic figures or events, for its streets. Besides, descriptive names help avoid confusion with cabbies, delivery men, postmen, et cetera, thus ensuring efficiency. It's gold. My street should have been named "Homo Hill" because of - you guessed it - the density of gay boys who live in such a short, little strip. But Seoul called "Dibs!" first, so we're stuck with boring, old Po Yan Street.

Whilst I was having dinner with three single gay friends last night, the conversation turned to sex. Every conversation among gay men - heck, among all men - inadvertently turn to sex. "I'm so dry," my friend, A, bemoaned, "because my boyfriend is in the UK. We won't be seeing each other 'til Christmas. Can you," he turned to me, "help me find a temporary boyfriend?"

"Gosh..." I hesitated. "I wouldn't know where to begin, honestly. I've been with Chris for almost four years, so I've all but lost my killer instinct."

"You need a refresher course on cruising?" J asked helpfully. "I can give you tips." It turns out, J has been busy lately on Manhunt, Gay Romeo and Gaydar. "I've been expanding my repertoire. I now sleep with guys from 25 - 40 years old. I killed six guys in two weeks," he proudly shared. "Two Aussies, two Brits, one Italian, one American. It was all fantastic. Except..." he paused as though to choose the right words, "the Italian wasn't very good. But..." J reconsidered, "he cooked some amazing risotto afterwards, so I guess it's OK."   

With men - gay or straight - you may pass with flying colours as long as you satisfy an itch.

"Chatting up local gay boys and expats shouldn't be approached in the same way," J lectured. "Local boys are busy, so their questions and attendant replies to yours will always use the least number of words possible. For example, they will ask, 'Free now?' and the expected reply is a simple 'Yes' or 'No.' Further," J elaborated, "local boys are always direct to the point when you ask them what they like to do in bed. Answers will always just be one word: 'Sucking,' 'Fucking,' 'Kissing,' etc."

So J confirmed my observation that Hong Kong gay boys aren't really inarticulate or shy. They just never waste time. They'll ask you to come to Square Street or Ladder Street or New Street, just like they mean it. Who cares about preliminaries?

"Expats on the other hand," J continued, "need a little bit of flirting before they get to the point. My second Aussie guy was complaining that he is so tired from long hours of work in Hong Kong, so I offerred: 'I'll massage your back if you massage my prostate. Deal?'"

I was thoroughly impressed. An Emmy winner couldn't have scripted it better.

Anyhow, J ended up in the Aussie's seaview mansion in Stanley. He had a grand piano, so J struck a few chords before the poor Aussie gave up all pretense of being tired and promptly threw my slender friend onto the bed for an intense fuck.

"Neither of us reached orgasm, but that's because we were both really tired and thinking of work the next morning and..." J paused wistfully, "he's got a boyfriend who just happened to be in Thailand on a business trip."

Despite his initial bravado, my promiscuous friend was obviously crushed.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, I retold the story of my misadventure with the inexperienced student from Kaohsiung, and how the night ended with a compromising situation with the hotel's Housekeeping.

When all else has been said and done, "cruising" is exactly what it means - going along with the flow, just passing by, here today and gone tomorrow. Which then brings me to the ultimate cruising tip, which J failed to mention:

Never wear your heart on your sleeve.

Regardless of your initial intent, you'll inadvertently come across someone whom you think you want to spend the rest of your life with - until you're reminded, yet again, that all the good ones are already taken.

So whilst I have been out of circulation for almost four years, I've come to learn a couple of lessons about cruising, anyway.

The grass ain't always greener on the other side.

Hang on to what you've got.








1 comment:

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