Being Old and Sad?

“I saw this old gay guy, about in his late fifty’s or early sixty’s, sitting across me while I am in a bus going here to your place. I was looking at him and I could see how sad his face was. I should have minded my own business but I come to think and ask myself, would I suffer the same fate?” A friend relayed his encounter during a drinking session. He then asked me, “How would you see yourself upon reaching that same age?”

Anticipating his question, I just answered, “I could not actually tell because I always try to live my life one day at a time.” “Of course you’re not.” He blurted. The truth is, when he asked me that question, the first thing that came into my mind is that I could be possibly back into my painting hobby, writing a book, or lounging on my beach house’s roof deck; but I thought, hey that age is still young for me. So, I opted to give him a safe and open-ended answer. “Of course you’re not.” He contradicted.

“I would give you money if you’re going to make out with him.” An older guy told me nodding towards the direction of a younger guy with a big number 22 printed on his yellow t-shirt. I looked at the younger guy and back to the older fellow, frowning at him. Why would he say such a thing? Is he and Mr. 22 together? Did they go here to look for a one-night-stand for his younger partner to give him what he could not offer? Did Mr. 22 request me from him?

When Mr. 22 gets into the picture, I was already making out with someone else. It’s not difficult not to notice him because of his bright yellow t-shirt. He looks tall, possibly taller than me by an inch or two. He has smooth fair skin, and obviously has a well-fit body by the looks of his chest and biceps. I even checked out his sides if he had these love handles but his shirt dropped effortlessly at his sides. His face is not bad either. It’s bony but it has this strong chiseled look. I told myself that I must have him. Unfortunately, he did not even bother to give a glance when he passed our way.

On the other hand, the guy I am with is a twink. This is the second time around that we bumped on each other here. That’s against my rule but I always give an exemption to someone I really like and who could easily give me a boner. We were still making out when I saw Mr. 22 again. I thought he would just tread his way straight but this time he slowed down and stopped. No, he did not stop because he saw us but because there are two other guys standing separately across where we stand. Both are likeable so I thought they got Mr. 22’s interest. I already saw them following each other a few minutes back and I thought they were just waiting for the right time to introduce themselves to each other.

When Mr. 22 stood in between them, there was some tension building up. Everyone’s checking out each other and absentmindedly, Mr. 22’s gaze finally hovered at us. Twinkie boy’s hand was already stroking and squeezing my erection from outside my jeans. He has been doing that ever since the two guys stood opposite us. Perhaps, he wanted the two guys envy him and now there is Mr. 22 watching us as he stroke the outline of my cock that is visible from my jean. In my case, this is an opportunity to really get his attention so I lifted my shirt to show off my abs and the engorged penis that is already peeking out from the waistline of my pants. His eyes were draw in at what was in front of him. The other two guys were also watching us. Twinkie boy did not stop at stroking my dick until the older guy gets into the scene as he walked directly towards us. On impulse, I immediately covered myself with my shirt.

“Ok lang iyan.” The older guy said but twinkie boy stopped at what he was doing and without a word left. The other two men did the same while Mr. 22 takes the opportunity to come closer. He inserted his hand inside my shirt and felt for my abdomen. “Shit!” He then lifted my shirt and continued feeling for my abs and then my chest. “Ang tigas.” He blurted out. I let him do what he is doing even in the presence of the older guy. He was just standing there watching the younger man. Suddenly, Mr. 22 groped for my dick inside my jeans and tried to pull it out. I stopped his hand. “Huwag kang mahiya. Malaki naman iyan eh.” He said. Of course I am not ashamed exposing my dick, the problem is, I saw the guard approaching. “May bantay na paparating.” I whispered to them. Without looking whether there is really a guard or not, both scampered away.

The guard proceeded to the comfort room instead. Immediately, I saw men dashing out from the comfort room and spotted twinkie boy. He is now heading in my direction. We are alone in the area so he takes his dick out facing the wall. He strokes himself while caressing my chest and abdomen. It dawned to me that he wanted to get off soon because he was speeding up the motion on his dick. His touch on my body is also becoming strong and heavy and it did not take long when I heard his deep breath. I glanced at his dick ejaculating white cum, hitting the wall of the hallway. “Libog na libog ka ah.” I told him. “Kelangan ko na kasi umuwi.” He replied.

With the twinkie boy gone, I thought I could focus on Mr. 22, or with either of the two men that were standing opposite us a while ago. I remained standing on my spot and waited. There were other men who passed by and I made sure that they would not get any impression that I am interested in them. So when Mr. 22 gets in the hallway I was alone. He stood in front of me, stared at my body, and started to stroke my body again. I told him to lift his shirt because I also wanted to see his body. Obliged, he lifted his shirt from a distance but I pulled him near to me and lift the shirt myself. He was trimmed all right and tight. The cuts in his abdominals are not symmetrical and the upper portion is somewhat protruding. However his chest is well-cut, even better than mine. I reached out for his chest and squeezed them. I pulled him next to me and let our naked bodies touch. His body is hot. I take his hand and put it inside my pants. “Gusto mo iyan?” I asked him. He grabbed my erection and pulled it out from my jeans. He played on its head and squeezes the precum forming at its tip. “Isubo mo.” I told him. Before he could reply, the older guy suddenly appeared from nowhere. “Tuloy lang ninyo.”

I was not in the mood being watched this time, especially by him, so I fixed myself up and left the place. I transferred to the other wing of the theatre. After a few minutes, I saw Mr. 22 approaching but he was being followed by the older guy. Before he could even reach me, I walked out of the hallway. I looked at Mr. 22 as if to tell him that he must get rid of the older guy and we’re good. Back to my original spot, I waited for Mr. 22. I saw him again, with the older guy following.

Somewhat pissed by what is happening and what would be the outcome of the day if this continues, I again transferred to the other hallway. The two guys I saw before were already making out and I thought they were already fondling on each other’s cock. When they saw me, they stopped. I felt awkward that I would be the one watching. I leaned back on the wall and then again I saw the older guy approaching. I did not move. Maybe I should talk to him that he must leave me alone. But before I could utter a word, he said, “Bigyan kita ng pera, papanoorin ko kayong dalawa.”

Pathetic? What could be worse than this adjective to describe the actions of the old gay guy. He did not even offered the money for his personal gratification because he could still be rejected even he has the money. Instead, he offered it to get someone else gets gratified. I am not sure until now if he and Mr. 22 are together. That is immaterial already, isn’t it? What I know is that the older guy knows where he really stands in a lifestyle or culture unfavorable for him. What is amazing though was he was able to adapt and hopefully continues to find contentment on what is available for him.

Ageing. I guess that is something that everyone dreads of, and worse even, fears. Perhaps this is the main reason why my friend finds the looks of the old gay guy he saw in the bus, bothering or troubling. Maybe this is the reason why he was seeking for another’s view. Paranoia, which is the best description of my friend’s behavior, is sometimes worse than the fear itself because one has no actual account of the real reason of discomfort. That sad face doesn’t mean only one thing for that old gay guy. The reason could be something else.

Being sad is just a part of someone’s life and most often, it should not be considered as a definition to someone’s life, much more to a gay man’s life. Being old doesn’t mean no options left. I guess the options are still there, the only problem is the preparations we are making. Are we prepared to face the eventualities?

What problem faces to those who say, “I live one day at a time.”? Are they making preparations. My friend disagrees when I say that to him because he said, “The main reason why you are practicing a healthy lifestyle is because you want to live longer. You want to prepare for the future.” Indeed, he may be right but I said to him, “Whatever I am doing is always for today, for the present, because whatever happens to me in the future, it would be all because what I did or accomplished today. Getting prepared for today is being ready for tomorrow.”

I looked back at the old gay guy in the theater. Indeed in some others’ eyes, what he did was pathetic. But are we absolutely sure that it was not he was prepared for? Fortunately for Mr. 22 and me, we had found our moments together, without the older gay guy on the side.