...and the rest of what's left

quel age?

aside from asking where i come from, guys i meet here in brussels never fail to ask for my age. for some of you, it could be just that, a simple question that someone asks out of interest or sheer curiousity. but for this boy it seems otherwise. most of the time i fumble when i answer the question. forgetting how old i am, i do a mental calculation as quick as a geek can.

"uhm, 26. uhmm wait, i'm 27 now. i guess."

i stop myself there, and shudder a bit as wait for the inevitable follow-up question.

"and me?" with their eyes fluttering as if saying don't-you-over-estimate-kiddo. you should see them doing this, it's cute and annoying at the same time. and this is what i am talking about. peevish.

although it's a pattern already, still my mind goes on a whirlwind. my dilemma: what if i say a higher number, would he lose interest? and even if i say a safe one, would i not be miscontrued as a player?

what is it about gay guys and age? vanity?



listening to: my flatmate doing his rounds of early morning door banging!

*pic taken during the brussels city spring festival last year. it appeared in the website of the metro. i'm somewhere there :)

this is marc's version of the truth, sometime at 4:29 PM if you can't live with it, he can.