funny valentine
14 february

London: here it was Valentines Day and here I was sitting on a double decker bus decorating a card I bought for a client I was smitten with, asking him to be my Valentine. His name was Cy, and the previous week when he called my ad, I had no idea what a mess I'd find myself in come 14th of February.

When he answered the door I was surprised, as he didn't look like his voice, he was way cuter. But more than that, he was so upbeat, generous with compliments, and he seemed actually interested in me beyond just my driving skills. After sex we simply hung out, he ordered pizza from his menu folder (organization skills turn me on!), let me play his piano- and loved my music- I was getting very Pretty Woman feelings and ignored my phone. We fucked some more, then talked and talked, and before we knew it, it was 4:30 the next morning. I wanted to sleep over but he was not going to bed, as he had to be up in a couple hours for work. This was the kind of guy I wanted to meet, someone ambitious, kind, attractive, with a positive outlook on life- and he already knew what I did for a living and had the right attitude about it.

So here I was, waiting for the bus to stop so I wouldn't mess up my envelope. When I got to his house, I called him up, thinking I'd get an answering machine, but he actually answered, he was home with a business associate. I told him he had mail downstairs, and left, thinking myself 'proactive'.

I was reminded of the last time I delivered a Valentine card, I rode my bike through the streets of LA during rush hour to the apartment of this gorgeous man Bert. Then I found out he was on the rebound from a recent break up. What made things worse was that I had gone out with his ex years ago in New York and the ex had dumped me. In a few days I would pay $40 to get into a dance club where Bert would dump me so he could get back together with his ex.

I did not hear from Cy for several days, but finally caught up with him just before I was to leave for five weeks in the US. He thanked me for the card and said he'd love to be my Valentine. I was not about to get all technical on his ass that the day was long passed but instead I got his address and said I'd mail him a post card. He asked me to call him first thing as soon as I got back. I left England, thinking myself 'patient'.

For my last night for recreation in London, I visited a local bath house. I was curious about this place, didn't relish shelling out the twelve or fifteen pounds to get in, and did not appreciate the lack of directions to the nearest urinal. I really needed to go and considered relieving myself in the street on the way to the spa but could not find an out of the way spot and did not want to risk arrest. I figured I'd just hold it until I got to the bath house. Now I was running up and down stairs, clutching my towel nervously. Finally I asked for directions and found a toilet just in time.

There was an intersting mix of guys, though more stand-offish than my friends in Paris. After much wandering I fooled around with a couple of them, then sought a nice warm jacuzzi where I could relax. Among the bubbles I met Paulo, a Spaniard working and studying English in London.

Paulo was very nice and I ended up taking him back to the unheated pub. We generated plenty of heat under the covers. The next day I walked him to the tube so he could got to class and work. Then I spent the rest of the day tying up loose ends before my flight to Boston.

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