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November 10, 2006
The Joy of Poppers
There is a relatively new gay bookstore down the street from me. It's sandwiched between quaint, little restaurants and boutique shops. There's a tacky billboard in front of the store with cut-out photos of half naked men from porn magazines.
The man who owns and runs the store is Asian, and speaks very broken English.
I went in tonight to buy a book. The store is littered with new and used books, magazines, DVDs, dildos and lube. It is the size of my kitchen, and extremely uncomfortable if more than two people are in there at the same time.
As he was ringing up my purchase, I noticed a clear, rather large dildo on the counter. "What's that?" I asked. "Iz a dildo." "I know, but is that glass?" "Yes, iza made uh glass. It feels uh vedy good." Ew. "Is that safe?" "Yes, vedy safe. I think you would like it." Huh? Why would you think that? "No, thanks." The idea of broken glass up my ass is not all that appealing.
There was also a DVD on the counter with Jake Dakota on the cover. Naturally, I said, "I met him." "Oh, he uh so hot. He get fucked so hod." He then became very animated, demonstrating how Jake gets fucked. Then, he says:
"You uh have a porn star look."
What does that mean? "You're crazy." Wait a second, "Do I look slutty or something?"
"Not really." Huh??? "But you uh look like trouble, like uh bad boys." I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted by all of this. "I know uh Michael Brandons. I give him your name."
"That's funny. I don't think so."
"I write down your info in case you change mind. What's your uh name?"
"Um, my name is Jimbo, but I'm not interested. At all. Thanks though."
I pay for my Aidan Shaw autobiography. He puts it in a bag along with a small bottle. "I give you for free." I pull it out; it's a small bottle of poppers. One of the bonuses of going to this store is the free shit he gives us.
He informs me that he has gotten a better quality version of Jungle Juice in stock. He pulls it out, opens the bottle, shoves it under my nose, and says, "Try it! Iz so strong. I think you would like."
I push his hand away. "Noooooo! I'm not sniffing that. I'll get all flushed and naseous. Plus, aren't I supposed to be engaged in sexual activity when doing that?" Geez.
He's a nice guy, but a pushy salesman. I put the free sample bottle in my pocket. As I leave, he says, "Bye, Jimbos."
I get to my building, open the front door, and take my key out to check my mail. As I pull the key out, the bottle of poppers decides to come out as well. It falls to the floor. I freak out. Luckily, it didn't shatter, but I notice liquid coming down the outer protective plastic. Oh, shit. I instantly become flushed and naseous.
The foyer of our building has now become the backroom at the Eagle. I throw the bottle in my bag and make a mad dash for my apartment. As I'm running down the hall, I can hear the two college chicks who live upstairs coming down the stairs. I open my door, and quickly close it.
I peer out the peephole to watch them. They're blabbing away to one another, when one of them says, "OMG, what is that smell?" The other one says, "OMG, that's terrible! What is that?" College Chick #1 puts her sweatshirt up over her nose and mutters, "I think I'm gonna be sick. What the fuck is it? Smells like paint thinner or something." Indeed.
As they open the front door to the foyer, the freshly poppered air hits them hard. I hear screaming and gagging.
This happened about four hours ago. And the hallway still smells awful. I can only imagine what the foyer smells like. I feel bad for the straight couple who live in the front of the building.
Almost every gay boy has a popper horror story, and I guess this is mine.
Damn gay bookstore salesman.
Posted by durban bud at November 10, 2006 1:08 AM
Comments
Ha! The Asian gay bookstore owner already knows my name, so you didn't fool him. He does have an extensive mental encyclopedia of porn star gossip though, including those who now live in DC. He's a hoot to talk to. "Ohhh, Brent Silver he live down de block. He try to be realtor but nobody want him for bidnett."
He did the same poppers routine with me too. He'll give you a discount if you flirt, fyi.
Posted by: jimbo at November 10, 2006 2:24 AM
Wonderfully written TJ! People are looking strangely at me in the office as I am trying to suppress laughther - which just means that I get all flushed and teary eyed. So now I look like I sniffed some of your poppers!!
I am SO with you on the glass dildo thing.
Posted by: CTPete at November 10, 2006 3:39 AM
I'm one of the few gay guys not into poppers. I don't mind'em but just not my thing. One time during a lustful interlude, the guys poppers spilled out on the bed and we didn't know it. Naturally, when he ends up face down it was right in the spot where the poppers spilled. I soon discover he has passed out. Talk about ruin your image. lol
He came too pretty quickly and was ok. I think he has given up poppers now too.
Posted by: moby at November 10, 2006 3:49 AM
When I used to live in Atlanta, I was no less than a block away from the Eagle. Which for any of you that know the Eagle you also know there is a Krispy Kreme donut show across the street.
Many a Sunday morning I'd sit on the back porch to read the paper and would get the smell of poppers and fresh baked donuts. What a way to start the day ...
Posted by: Steve in IAH at November 10, 2006 8:52 AM
I've been to that store with Jimbo! Unforts, no offers of free poppers for moi, but that is alright because one time at the airport they ended up screening me for explosives because my bag tested positive for nitrates. lol
Posted by: homer at November 10, 2006 11:25 AM
It give the phrase "You should be in movies" a whole new slant.
Posted by: Mark at November 10, 2006 12:24 PM
Hills! "Jimbo" - I'm still laughing.
I get that "are you in porn?" a lot, too. Why does that offend me?
Posted by: johnny at November 10, 2006 2:40 PM
He said I had "a nice mouth" one time... I haven't been back in since... he kinda freaks me out... though he did give me a huge tub of boy butter for free a couple times tho!
Posted by: TOS at November 10, 2006 6:25 PM
i'm older so i can remember the smell of poppers on the dance floor at the libery in rochester, ny. poppers were big in the '80's which is why i have trouble remembering my last name. the last time i attempted them was in a bar in paris (don't ask). they were actually pretty good, so i decided to take them home. i freaked out at the airport, not wanting to get searched and tried to ditch them. i had to fake needing a cigarette to get outside and dump them in the nearest garbage can. i miss the '80's.
Posted by: john at November 10, 2006 10:22 PM
poppers...gotta love em... i think they intensify my hangovers... if i am using poppers that means i am drinking and having hot sloppy sex... oh hell, now i have all these flashbacks... now i am going to have to get on manhunt... have a good weekend!
Posted by: Kelly at November 11, 2006 8:53 AM
So when entering establishiments of marginal repute, you need a cover name? Hmm I'll have to consider that next time. Poor Jimbo... He sounds a bit like Margaret Cho's mother.
You do have a porn star look, though more like the stuff at the Eagle last night, than Bel Ami.
Posted by: carl at November 11, 2006 1:29 PM
The "stuff" at the Eagle was a Hot House film with Shane Rollins. Nice to have seen you, Durban Bud, however briefly at Blowoff.
Posted by: Aaron at November 13, 2006 5:41 AM
this is some funny shit! i hate the smell of poppers...
Posted by: J at November 13, 2006 6:42 PM
Popper story? I'd rather not do them, but a guy I was 'with' liked them. He was taking a hit when I did an upward thrust - splashing the poppers out of the bottle and into his eye.
Needless to say - that was the end of THAT.
Posted by: Blobby at November 18, 2006 10:07 PM