Being a WHORE on Mardi Gras...
Yes, I was a WHORE during Mardi Gras. In fact, I spelled it out for everybody. I wore this black (a good slimming color!) T-Shirt that fit my muscled body perfectly. It had the word "WHORE" in big bold white letters. I swear I have never heard "WHORE!" shouted at me by so many strangers in one day! The fine print on the shirt said "Hate Me in Public... Fantasize about Me in Private." I got so much attention from that shirt. I should have taken pictures, but neither me nor E.Shrew felt like carrying around our camera. Sorry guys... I wear everything tight... there is NO room! Plus, I had to leave my hands free for extracurricular activities during that special event we call Mardi Gras.
So, me and Shrew did Mardi Gras. I think we both had a great time. I did my darndest to pace myself and stretch out the day. I am not a big drinker. So... walking around socializing and drinking for hours on end can be a challenge for me. Luckily, there were so many HOT HOT HOT boys and so many dear friends, that time passed by swiftly and fun was had. It was near 8pm last night and I had finally begin to feel like I needed to shutdown. Three straight days of drinking, carousing, and merriment will do that to this 35 year old body.
Was I a whore? Not really. The only eyebrow raising moments came when the locals wanted to use "Mardi Gras" to get frisky with me or the Shrew. What was once the customary greeting of a peck on the lips suddenly become fullfledged french kissing. The usual copping a feel of your pecs or your ass, suddenly became your friend unbuttoning your button fly jeans and taking out your business. Again... this was all done by FRIENDS! While I am not a prude (NO SHIT SHERLOCK!), it puts you a little on the nervous side worrying what your BF thinks about it. You better believe me and the Shrew were tabulating in our heads what each friend did to the other. When you go out in New Orleans (me) or live there (Shrew)... it always happens. You just can't get too irritated or bent out of shape. You just chalk it up as one of those things that happens.
I try not to get jealous. I don't particuliarly like the jealous types anyway. You know.... the ones that shriek "GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY MAN!" if you touch his boyfriend. Sometimes jealousy lets you know someone really does care about you. But often times... jealousy is a wasted human emotion. Gay men need affirmation from others that they are attractive. Yes, completely narcisstic and ego driven... but very necessary for a healthy self esteem. With gay couples, we all give our partners much more latitude than a heterosexual couple would. I like that. As long as the Shrew respects me and shows me he cares when it counts, it shows that we smoothly sailed through Mardi Gras.