Well this weekend at Universal was quite drama free after all. Although this kid Christian seems like the type who likes to get into it if he can. And if shit isn't going down when he's on the scene, he's also the type who likes to start it up.
I could tell the second I heard his voice on the phone that this guy was gonna be a handful. Within mere seconds he was dispensing with niceties, telling me what to do, ordering Ric around in the background and pretty much flat-out admitting he was a control queen. But since he's cute as a button, all these transgressions can be forgiven. It's eerily like looking though a time tunnel and seeing myself at his age.
Oh, and BTW, what is his age? 21. That's right, Ric at the age of 51 is dating a twenty-one year-old boy. Scott's already posted a biting Facebook comment chastising Ric on his cradle-robbing. I personally have absolutely no problem with it. If I could get 'em that young (or even younger) I'd fucking do it too.
Other than Christian's smarmy smart-ass 'tude and cock-sure swagger (which makes him hotter IMHO) he was a sharp lil' whipper snapper and passed my intelligence testing with flying colors. Of course like everyone his age, I fear, he resoundingly failed in my History quizzes but of course was spot-on in Pop Culture, Civics, Technology, Art and Design, Psychology and Homo Culture. In Ethics and Finance his lack of experiences really shows since I think he has naive views in both fields, to the impending detriment, no doubt, of his machinations regrading his potential relationship with Ric.
I think, despite his protestations otherwise, he wants Ric to be his Sugar Daddy. Or should I say, wanted...past tense, since I think this weekend revealed a couple of truisms to him about Ric. First, Ric doesn't have Sugar Daddy money and second, even if he did, Christian would only be a benefactor of it if he relinquished his dominance in deference to Ric. That'll never happen. Not this kid.
We went to Hooter's on Kirkman for lunch on Saturday. I would have assumed Ric had the sole inclination of the three of us to go there since he loves their wings but Christian agreed to that choice too. It appears he digs the looks of the servers there. Yup. Another twenties-something bisexual. Oh brother.
Once at the park we started out by making the oh-so-familiar clockwise circuit of the "islands" at IOA after, of course, our obligatory beeline dash from the entrance to the Confisco Backwater Bar. As I suspected, I tested my post-Winter weight-regained ass in the sample seat outside the Hulk and I couldn't fit, even in the double-buckled wider seats. How sad...again. They went on Doctor Doom. I probably would fit on that but as usual I was too chicken to even try. Not a fan of the tower drop style rides at all.
We then went on to Spidy, Dudly, Jurassic and Forbidden Journey which I did comfortably fit on (so I haven't gone back to this girth, whew!) Might have been able to do wide seats on Dueling Dragons but we skipped it for some reason. Don't remember why since I was pretty buzzed by this point. I think we hit up almost every beer serving kiosk in each of the islands. Oh, like always except last year, no dizziness or nausea on any rides. Must have been that phen.
After the Poseidon show made our way over to Nascar Cafe for dinner despite my warnings that the food's gone downhill. But they liked their selections and I chose fish and chips which, since I'm sure it's all just pre-frozen, can't be fucked up. It was okay. The fries actually did taste a bit better. Maybe new management back there?
Was after 8:00 when we entered the original park for Mardi Gras and unbeknownst to us, the parade was already over. One of us should have checked out times for that. I squeezed myself (just barely) onto the Hollywood Rip Ride Rockit coaster for a short, smooth, yet enjoyable little nighttime LED-illuminated ride accompanied by the strains of "Pump Up the Volume."
The band got started just as I got off the coaster. Some Christian rock band "Skillet." Music was very loud heavy metal. And I do mean loud. Yup, like they say, when the music's too loud, you're getting too old.
I was tuckered out and apparently Christian, a fit boy less than half our age was pooped too. Well, they'd partied hearty for the past two nights before I got on the scene so of course it was catching up to them. Ric later said he was good to keep the party going but I know he was tired too. We all ambled our way like listless zombies out of the park and to our Days Inn hotel on foot. Not horribly far, but far enough when you're drunk and exhausted.
I had enough energy for a quick swim in the pool but they stayed in the room. I also woke up first in the morning, showered and drove to nearby Starbucks and returned to greet the boys just then stirring alive. Though I drank many beers the night before, they'd been spread out evenly over many hours and lots of physical activity thus reducing their negative side effects. I felt fine.
After a tasty IHOP breakfast, Christian had to return to his home near Tampa so he bade a rather lukewarm farewell and Ric and I made our way back to the park. We focused on the original one exclusively. He rode the Rip Ride Rockit a couple more times. (I chose not to be squished into it...I'll try it again when I loose a few more pounds) We did Mummy, Shreck, and Simpsons but when we got to the new Duff's Brewery outdoor bar in the new Springfield area, we enjoyed the beer and the company (met a super nice bartender and some other patrons) so we spent much of the afternoon there.
Over all, I really don't think Christian will be pursuing anything much more with Ric. He just gave way too many negative signals. I think Ric knows it too. But Ric perseverates on things like this ad infinitem. In fact, for most of Sunday, we talked of little else but this kid and what will become of this for Ric.
Oh the beer-lubricated wailing of two old twink-loving queens bemoaning the waste of youth on the young. It's enough to make dogs howl and babies cry.
I could tell the second I heard his voice on the phone that this guy was gonna be a handful. Within mere seconds he was dispensing with niceties, telling me what to do, ordering Ric around in the background and pretty much flat-out admitting he was a control queen. But since he's cute as a button, all these transgressions can be forgiven. It's eerily like looking though a time tunnel and seeing myself at his age.
Oh, and BTW, what is his age? 21. That's right, Ric at the age of 51 is dating a twenty-one year-old boy. Scott's already posted a biting Facebook comment chastising Ric on his cradle-robbing. I personally have absolutely no problem with it. If I could get 'em that young (or even younger) I'd fucking do it too.
Other than Christian's smarmy smart-ass 'tude and cock-sure swagger (which makes him hotter IMHO) he was a sharp lil' whipper snapper and passed my intelligence testing with flying colors. Of course like everyone his age, I fear, he resoundingly failed in my History quizzes but of course was spot-on in Pop Culture, Civics, Technology, Art and Design, Psychology and Homo Culture. In Ethics and Finance his lack of experiences really shows since I think he has naive views in both fields, to the impending detriment, no doubt, of his machinations regrading his potential relationship with Ric.
I think, despite his protestations otherwise, he wants Ric to be his Sugar Daddy. Or should I say, wanted...past tense, since I think this weekend revealed a couple of truisms to him about Ric. First, Ric doesn't have Sugar Daddy money and second, even if he did, Christian would only be a benefactor of it if he relinquished his dominance in deference to Ric. That'll never happen. Not this kid.
We went to Hooter's on Kirkman for lunch on Saturday. I would have assumed Ric had the sole inclination of the three of us to go there since he loves their wings but Christian agreed to that choice too. It appears he digs the looks of the servers there. Yup. Another twenties-something bisexual. Oh brother.
Once at the park we started out by making the oh-so-familiar clockwise circuit of the "islands" at IOA after, of course, our obligatory beeline dash from the entrance to the Confisco Backwater Bar. As I suspected, I tested my post-Winter weight-regained ass in the sample seat outside the Hulk and I couldn't fit, even in the double-buckled wider seats. How sad...again. They went on Doctor Doom. I probably would fit on that but as usual I was too chicken to even try. Not a fan of the tower drop style rides at all.
After the Poseidon show made our way over to Nascar Cafe for dinner despite my warnings that the food's gone downhill. But they liked their selections and I chose fish and chips which, since I'm sure it's all just pre-frozen, can't be fucked up. It was okay. The fries actually did taste a bit better. Maybe new management back there?
Was after 8:00 when we entered the original park for Mardi Gras and unbeknownst to us, the parade was already over. One of us should have checked out times for that. I squeezed myself (just barely) onto the Hollywood Rip Ride Rockit coaster for a short, smooth, yet enjoyable little nighttime LED-illuminated ride accompanied by the strains of "Pump Up the Volume."
The band got started just as I got off the coaster. Some Christian rock band "Skillet." Music was very loud heavy metal. And I do mean loud. Yup, like they say, when the music's too loud, you're getting too old.
I had enough energy for a quick swim in the pool but they stayed in the room. I also woke up first in the morning, showered and drove to nearby Starbucks and returned to greet the boys just then stirring alive. Though I drank many beers the night before, they'd been spread out evenly over many hours and lots of physical activity thus reducing their negative side effects. I felt fine.
Over all, I really don't think Christian will be pursuing anything much more with Ric. He just gave way too many negative signals. I think Ric knows it too. But Ric perseverates on things like this ad infinitem. In fact, for most of Sunday, we talked of little else but this kid and what will become of this for Ric.
Oh the beer-lubricated wailing of two old twink-loving queens bemoaning the waste of youth on the young. It's enough to make dogs howl and babies cry.