At Lenox Square

After another wonderful night's slumber, I got up at around 9am and luxuriated in the bathroom - again! I pushed out of the motel and jumped on the next MARTA train going towards Doraville. I noticed two cute Britons jumping on with me, dressed just as thuggishly as their American brothers; when I overheard that they were also heading to Lenox Mall, that just underlined their uninteresting intentions. Anyhoo, got to the mall - first stop, The Apple Store. Cute, but not as cute as ours, well, as much as I claim anyplace so Anglo-Saxon. After that, I perused many other nice stores and realized that we don't really have anything like it in New York - in Manhattan, to be specific. I grew up around malls and I miss the convenience of having everything you like under one roof. But I sure don't miss the crowds. Not in the least.

Darrell and Tom came to hang out with me and we ran into Tom's friend Bobby (who caught the eye of a certain someone!) who introduced us to Cornbread and Sexxxy Red, who were both visiting from Houston, Texas. Cornbread decided to cut to the chase and asked me, "How many men have you had sex with since you've been to Atlanta?" I was flabbergasted without a comeback, but intrigued - thinking about that sexual fantasy involving that spectacular view of my motel room, but I digress ... He didn't like to mince words and that was extremely attractive. So, I wrote down my name and hotel room on the back of one of my business cards and gave it to him. And he slid it up under this cup that was on the table. A cup that he wasn't drinking from anymore. I asked him, "Is there a reason why my card is up under that cup?" He mumbled something and I just put out my hand for him to return it. He gave it back, sheepishly saying, "I just got too much going on ..." We didn't speak again until Darrell, Tom and I were about to leave. I shook Cornbread's hand and the look on his face said it all. From a pit bull to a chihuahua in less than 30 seconds. *rolls eyes*

It just reminded me how much I appreciate refinement. Men who can be forthright, but who don't have to resort to scare tactics to put their point (or their masculinity) across. I know that the concept of being a Southern Gentleman is not lost within our Black gay context, but I have yet to experience that here. So, I'll just have to go to the ice machine a couple more times to keep my coochie cool and calm until Eric and Mike's party tonight.