Z reveals-:):): January 2010

Don't blame Mexicans! English is too hard to learn!!!

Has anybody ever tried to ask a man a glass of tap water and gotten frustrated because the man looked at you empty?

There are Mexicans have been living here very long time, but they can’t speak a word in English. Some people criticize them harshly. Alright!! In defense of Mexicans I have to say something! (Just to clear up I’m NOT a Mexican) Learning English is not easy. There are so many crazy words and sentences. They don’t add up!!!

When I moved here in 2001, I wasn’t speaking in English. All I know couple of words and sentences like “Hi! How are you?”, “What is your name?”, “Where do you live? If it is in Queens, I’m not coming”. I was helpless. I couldn’t even go to market and buy something. I created my own sign/body language. One day I went to market to get toilet paper. I didn’t know that white roll I use to wipe my ass was called “toilet paper” I saw a giant redneck-like with enormous stomach who worked there. I ran to him. I said “I need!” and I bent over and wiped my ass with my right hand. I repeated my act happily. Redneck got almost purple. He didn’t take it well. Let’s say --I was lucky enough to leave the market in one piece. WHAT-A-DOUCHE BAG!

After this incident, I signed up for second language school. The reality when you learn another language, first you learn simple words and you try to make simple sentences. It is damn difficult!!

Meantime I had to make some money. NYC was so expensive. My savings were melting like soap under rain. I got a job as a busboy. (Yeah! If you don’t speak in English, they don’t make you a waiter. So!--You know why all busboys are Mexicans)

I never forgot a lady asked me “Can I get extra dressing?”

I didn’t understand “Sorry?”

She repeated. I thought “She must be crazy. Where am I going to get a dress for her salad? Extra dress?? Uuuuggh! These crazy New Yorkers!" My face impressions were revealing everything. I was looking at her like “Gurrlll!! What are you on? Crack?”

I ran to my favorite waiter Hunk Mike. He was the hottest and smartest one. I had a huge crush on him. Sadly he was straight (WHAT-A-WASTE!!) I told him in broken English “Mike! Woman! Table four! She wants dress next her salad!! Crazy Huh?” Mike was puzzled.” What are you talking about?” I pointed out her “A dress! Crazy wuummein!”

He ran the table and came back cracking up “OH GOD! Silly Z! Dressing is like sauce for salad" Come on!! For me dressing was a dress. Why couldn’t they call it sauce and call off the day?? Why did they have to make so harsh on me?!!!!

I learned English the hard way---At gay bars!!!

I went out almost every night. Not that I was a WHORE!!! I needed to practice my English. Some people have no patient if someone speaks in broken English. They immediately make annoyed faces, unless they are tipsy gay guys. Let me tell you something! After couple drinks gays wouldn’t even care if I spoke in Arabic. Nice ones even corrected my English and helped me with my grammar--in the bed-:):)

One night I met a guy at a gay bar. His name was Craig. Craig and I hit really well. Instead of doing naughty things in the bed we became good friends (Just like in the novel Little Women). Of course my stupid English was the biggest entertainment for him. One day we were talking on the phone.

At the end he said “OK! Bye Z! Keep in touch!” I got furious and said in my own English “Craig!! What tee fuuuck! You-I- friends! Why do you want to touch meeiii?!! Insane!!” He laughed “That means I will call you!!!!” I was laughing from nervous breakdown! Can you feel my frustration?

I have so many stories about my misunderstandings.

* When my best friend said "I hit rock bottom last night" I thought "He was the power bottom!! When did he become top?" I bit my tongue and didn't say anything.

* A friend said “That writer died in harness” I said “Well! If someone is into leather-fetish, that’s what happens! It is so dangerous! They don’t know where to stop!! Are you into leather??

* Whenever someone told me “Your turn” I turned back and looked. I got yelled at all the time!!!!

* A Friend said “Are you going to pull my leg again?" I thought “I have never touched his legs. He must be into some kind of feet fetish Geez!!!”

* A coworker said excitingly “Let’s get the ball rolling” I thought “ Eeew! I will never massage his balls!---GROSS!!”

* My landlord said “It was a hard pill to swallow” I said to myself “I knew this crazy bitch was doing drugs. She always seems unstable”

* When ever someone told me “Make yourself feel at home” I intended to masturbate.--DUH!—that’s what I do when I get comfortable home.

All I’m saying!! Be nice to Mexicans!-:) English is very difficult to learn. They are just more comfortable with their mother language. Here I said! TAH DA DA!

BTW_ Craig! If you are reading this! Call me BITCH! Long time no see!!-:)

Click here to read-- To me hairdresser "Have a happy period next month!"

His name was Don. He had aids. He was my buddy.

I have no idea why I woke up suddenly thinking about Don this morning. I do think about him once in a while. I miss him in my way...

-February 2003-

After living two years in NYC, I finally put my stones in right places. I got a job and work visa. I decided it was time to keep my promise which I made to myself after sudden death of my friend Frank. I wanted to help for HIV people, since Frank had been HIV positive. I went to GMHC (gay men health crisis) I asked them to volunteer for their buddy program. Basically after extensive training, they were going to give me someone who had aids and was in great needs to take care of. I was going to handle his chores, talk to him and entertain him somehow.

I got really comprehensive training. We did role plays. Instructors said some people could be very demanding. They could ask for outrages requests. As buddies we must set boundaries in the begging. I got little tense but I was willing to do this job. I wanted to do it right.

They gave me a phone number. Person’s name was Don. He was 65 years old, living by himself. He had aids since 1986. His life partner had died 3 years ago because of aids. I remembered vividly the day I called him. It was on a cold Saturday morning. While phone was ringing, my hands were sweating. Suddenly someone picked the phone.

“Hi! My name is Z. I’m calling from GMHC buddy program. Can I speak to Don?”

“Yes! This is Don” His voice was very soft and mellow.

“Hi Don! I’m your new buddy. I really would to meet with you.” There was 3 seconds silence

“Aaaahh! I’m in a lot of pain today. Can you call me back on Monday? We can set up something”

“OH! Sorry! I will call you on Monday! Have a great weekend!”

I called him on Monday. We decided to meet at his apartment on Thursday. On Thursday I was very anxious. His apartment was Upper West Side. It was a doorman building. I took the elevator to ninth floor. Don opened the door. He was 5.6 feet tall, very skinny, very pale. I introduced myself. We walked through a narrow hallway to get to the living room. His apartment was full of clutter. There were a big piano, hundreds books and music cds. I realized a cat was walking around. I’m not a cat person. Cats irritate me. I didn’t say anything. I asked little cat’s name. I told him I liked cats (a white lie).

We started chatting. He told me about himself. He was a musician. He loved classic music, reading books. That explained all that clutter. He talked about his late partner. His name was Doug. He mentioned their trips to country. They both had loved to drive and see different places. We talked almost two hours.

After that night I regularly saw Don over two years. Mostly Saturdays we went to brunch together. He had great stories from his past. Only one thing puzzled me the most that he was never out to his family, but I understood his reasons. Every brunch we went to same restaurant. It was our special place. He had neuropathy on his feet. Sometimes it was too painful to walk for him. I did his grocery shopping, picked up his medications from pharmacy.

During the week I always called him couple of times. One day he was cheery, the other day he was very dark and blue. Once he told me on the phone “I’m ready Z! So ready! I want to join Doug in heaven. I missed him terribly. I’m miserable. I can’t go on like that” A strong hand squeezed my heart suddenly. I felt the pain he had been having.

After six months meeting with Don, I had to go to Turkey for two weeks to handle my visa. He was nervous.

“Don’t you dare not coming back! I need my buddy here” I promised him to come back.

As soon as I came back to NYC, I called him. He was in so much pain again. I told him I brought a little gift for him. He got very excited. We met at our place on Saturday. I gave him my present.

“What is this?

“It is evil eye keychain.”

“What is evil eye?”

“We believe in my country that evil eye gives people good luck”

"Excellent! I need a lot of luck"

-One week before Labor Day 2005--

I was going to go Turkey again. Don and I were having brunch.

He said “You know! That lucky keychain got broken. Can you bring me another one? I don’t want to have bad luck.Please!!”

"Of course I will !”

At my trip I picked a keychain I thought it was the best one. I put it a safe place in my luggage. As I arrived to NYC, I called Don. Bizarrely I got a fax signal instead of phone ring. He didn’t have a computer. He used his fax to communicate with his friends. I thought he must have forgotten it plugged in. I was exausted from my 10 hours flight. I went to bed. Following two days I called him multiple times. Always I got fax signal. I was so busy with work, life. I didn’t have time to go to his place. I didn’t even have time to open up my luggage. I decided to fax him. I wrote on a paper “Hey Don! I’m back. I can’t reach you! Call me!” I also wrote my phone number just in case.

After two hours I got a call. I looked at my cell phone. It was Don. I felt so revealed. I picked up the phone.

“Hi Don! Where have you been?”

“I’m Frank! Don’s friend. Unfortunately, Don passed away”

“What? NO?”

“Last week when he was alone at his apartment, he got a heart attack. After two days, doorman broke the door. They found him”…

My whole body got numb. I felt empty, drained. I cried, cried and cried. After couple of hours I remembered his present. I opened my luggage and found it. I harshly tore apart bubble wrap. Keychain was in two pieces. It got broken right at the center.

“OH! I couldn’t bring this in time. Don ran out of luck.”

I heard Don’s voice saying

“I’m ready Z! So ready! I want to join Doug in heaven”

And he did…….

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This essay is my tribute to my buddy Don. He is up there somewhere watching me! Thank you Don for all those good memories! I'm so sorry I couldn't say good bye to you.

Click here to read " Z reveals to I'm from Driftwood"

John Blair needed my help. I helped him. NOW! John! We need to talk

Last Wednesday I got a mail from legendary John Blair. Hello!! You know who is. RIGHT? He is THE John Blair. He used to own Roxy and XL bar. He is the most successful party promoter. I vigorously opened the mail. Here it was a letter from John who is GOD of NYC night life.

Dear Z,

We need your help and support to bring back some vibrancy to New York City's night life. You will be extremely dismayed to learn that in the past 5 years there has not been a new liquor/cabaret license issued to a gay nightlife venue in New York City.....

Whaaaat!!! No new bar for gays! Why don't they kill me instead??!!!!!

As I read the letter, my heartbeat skipped. I realized John needed my help. I had to help him!!!!! It was THE John Blair how I could refuse him. So I kept reading. John was trying to open up XL bar in Hell's Kitchen. He was having a hard time to get liquor license. I love ALCOHOL! I love GAY BARS! I love John!

His letter was up and up also heart to heart. This line touched me deeply.

"As a resident of this neighborhood, you have an enormous influence over crucial decisions that will be made by your local elected officials"

Cutting the crap short here! Basically John Blair wanted me to send a letter to officials saying in a kind way " Hey Dude, Please give the damn liquor license to my dearest John, so we can party some!" I got so excited. My hands started trembling!!! I got goose bumps on my armpits. Suddenly I remembered how much fun I had at Roxy and XL bar. I wanted to help him desperately.

And then I hesitated. Hmmmm! I got flashbacks. I was at Roxy's door waiting to get in cold January. Doorman kept me waiting 45 minutes.Meantime he let everyone from VIP door get in the club. My pretty, bubble ASS WAS FROZEN.

I don't know how many times I got kept waiting at the door. John never helped me. How come??? And he wants my help!!! How dares he??

My angel side started speaking to me " Z! Don't be stupid!! He is John Blair. Remember the first time you were at Roxy! You were kissing that hot guy at the lounge area. Things got naughty!!! " Ooops!! I did remember!!! I grinned, smiled & blushed. Yeah!!! Those were fun times!!!

I decided to download, sign and send the letter, I did!!!!! I helped John Blair! He asked my help. I was happy to oblige.

NOW! John we need to talk.

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Hello John

This is Z! I was touched by your letter. In million years, in my wildest dreams I could possibly not imagine that you would ask my help. I mean! That's huge. I'm so glad you took the courage and sent that letter to me.

I was hesitant to help you at first, since I wasn't treated as VIP guest at the door of Roxy and XL bar for years. Your people kept me waiting hours in the cold. My balls got flu so many times.

You never gave me a JBlair gold card. I know I wasn't famous back than. I wasn't the most popular blogger and founder of blue flower project. And I knowww!!! We never met.

Anyway I have to admit I had great times and memories at your club. I mean! I got laid a lot!! (Tee Hee Hee!). THANK YOU! Therefore I decided help you. I sent the letter. I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed for re-launch of XL bar.

If this goes through, I want my gold card. I aint gonna wait at the door for hours to get in. Hello!!! I'm THE Z. I'm sweetheart of gay Manhattan and Pines. I'm expecting my JBlair gold card very soon.

Clearly you know my address, so please mail it to me. In case you need my help again, you don't need to send me a letter. We are friends on facebook so just poke me. (Winked!)

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P.S. If you want to stir up NYC's night life and help John Blair, got www.jblair.com and download the letter. John said you could even personalize the letter, if you feel like to. I did personalize mine. I sprayed my favorite perfume on it.

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Seriously!!! Boys! Send that letter! We need XL bar back :)

Boys love their dogs

Click here to read" A letter to my neighbor's dog"

It is all decided

When-- January 29th 2010
Where-- Connecticut City Hall
Event-- I'm getting married!!!!

I had a dream too on MLK day! "Homosexual president"

MLK day just passed. Importance of the day was huge. It was the first MLK day while we had an African-American president in White House.

I don’t know what and why happened to me, but I had a dream. It was wonderful. Perhaps I was under influence of so many emotional articles and TV shows related to Dr. Martin Luther King & Obama.

I was hopeful, happy and enthusiastic that public became finally color-blind when the subject comes to politics. It was great to see that race no longer matters.

I became a dreamer on MLK day. My dream was beautiful. In my dream there were no gay rights fights, no discrimination, no gay bashes. Nothing was nerve-wracking. Homosexuals were not sitting back of the equality bus. Bus was crowded, but there was space for everyone. Nobody needed to fight.

We had a homosexual president who treated people equally and made decisions to make our lives better.

I know it sounds crazy to most of you but it is my dream. I really would like to share with you.

In my dream we had a same–sex couple in the White House. They were heroes to people who believe in the cliche “happily married after”. Our presidential couple has a great family, two adopted kids and two adorable dogs. They were loved, respected and admired.

Call me silly rabbit but in my dream our president was openly gay whole his life. Unlike the ones who came out because of a nasty scandal, he didn’t need to stay in the closet. Our president knew that public finally had become sexuality-blind when the subject came to politics.

He was a proud homosexual and an amirable human.

In my dream First couple has been married for 15 years. They got married in their state... Their marriage was accepted and approved by federal law. We all had seen their wedding pictures in newspapers in the past. I personally had gotten green by their happiness.

Millions went to his presidential inauguration. Everyone was crying when Elton John was singing. We were so happy. It was magical. It was historic.

Call me silly goose! Accuse me I had too much to drink, but I know one day my dream will come true.

I’m sincerely hoping, I will be still alive and healthy to enjoy it.

Hit here to read " GOD made me gay because he didn't have any other option"