Justin's Life... January 1-11, 1996

Justin's Life... January 1-11, 1996

January 1, 1996


Before I'd gotten back to Boston, Rob had asked me if I wanted to go to a New Year's party with him. I'd never been to one before --always worrying about who I'd have to kiss at midnight--, but I thought it could be fun and had agreed.

But as yesterday came around, I wasn't much in the mood for going to a party and staying out late. Furthermore, the friend we were going with, Chi-Chi, didn't know Rob was gay, so that "Who am I gonna kiss?" question popped up again.

So, anyway, Rob said that he didn't think it would be a big deal, but he would call Chi-Chi to let her know that he was gay if I wanted. I said no and got dressed, all the time thinking that I was simply going in order to keep tabs on Rob, making sure he didn't get drunk and do something stupid.

Rob said he'd meet me at my apartment at 9PM, half an hour before we were supposed to meet Chi-Chi. I knew Rob was going to pick up some champagne beforehand, so I called his cellular phone and he said he was on his way. He arrived a few minutes later and we headed to the Mass. Ave T station.

After waiting there for a couple of minutes, a lady, who I later found out was named Sandi, yelled at Rob and we got into the taxi where Chi-Chi was waiting. A short ride brought us to an apartment building where Evelyn, Chi-Chi's co-worker, opened the door.

As we entered the dimly lit apartment, I felt sorta wierd, being a friend of a friend of a friend, but after an hour of what Sandi said was break-in time, I opened up.

I think one of the major open-upers for me was a guy named Bob. He was there when we arrived and he was quite the talker. As everyone repeatedly introduced themselves, he was telling them the meaning of their name, and he told a story about how some homeless guy was modeling clothes in the street. Once the name thing had run it's course, we got to ages. Bob said that he was 36 and Sandi said that he didn't seem that old. Bob replied that one good thing about being gay is that no one expects you to act mature for your age. I'd already gaydar-ed him, but I got a little smile when he actually said it. Not only was the world a little smaller, but being gay at this party wasn't going to be a problem.

Before long, Bob had to go to another party and the conversation again continued with the "I don't really know you, so I'll talk about stuff I see" crap. I swear Evelyn heard her apartment was lovely at least a couple dozen times.

As time passed, I realized that I needn't worry about Rob getting stupid. The average age of the partiers was in the thirties or more. Chi-Chi, Sandi, Rob, and I were the only people there in our twenties.

So anyway, as the time passed, I had some unrecognizable food, and thought to myself, "Why on earth would anyone spend that long fixing food?" If it had been my New Year's party, Pepsi and Domino's would have been the edibles. But, I ate the celery, carrot sticks, bread and kept quiet.

Soon midnight neared and David, Evelyn's boyfriend, started passing out the champagne glasses. I worried that I wouldn't get one since he knew I was only 20 and had only drunk Mango juice beforehand, but he handed me a glass without saying a word.

Before I knew it, the ball had dropped and I'd kissed Rob. Jim, another party guest, was standing less than a foot away looking in our direction. It didn't even phase me.

Less than 15 minutes later, Chi-Chi and Sandi were ready to leave and asked Rob and I if I'd like to go with them. Chi-Chi said they were going to meet her roommate, Steve, at work. A while back when I first heard of Chi-Chi, Rob mentioned that she had a bi-sexual roommate named Steve, but I hadn't put the two back together until just that moment.

Chi-Chi, who by the way is straight, said Steve was at work at Luxor, a gay bar, and she wanted to know if we'd be okay there. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to clear all doubts and knowing that Rob didn't care if I told her, I immediately answered, "Well, Rob's gay, ya know." I started laughing and she giggled as well. I said, "And you think I'm joking."

She said, "No, I don't." Turns out, Sandi, in the meantime, had asked Rob if he and I were "together." Apparently, Sandi didn't see us kiss, but heard it.

So the three of us thanked Evelyn for the party and went onto the street to find a cab. It's being just a few minutes after midnight on New Year's, we had a hard time, but eventually found one.

As we were riding in the cab, I thought about how I didn't have an ID. Sandi & Chi-Chi had already play harassed me for only being 20, and if I was denied entry to Luxor, I would have felt like a child. I didn't have long to worry about it, though, because the cab ride was short.

The four of us neared the building and I started fiddling with my back pocket, somehow wishing that a 21+ ID would appear.

After we passed the first door, Chi-Chi started walking towards a another door and some stairs. By the door, a guy was staring at an ID, but no one was with him. Chi-Chi walked briskly past him and I followed, but I kept fiddling with my pocket, thinking perhaps another bouncer was at the top of the stairs: he wasn't.

We walked into the bar area and Chi-Chi started talking with a cute guy on a stool. I later came to find out that this was Ken, Steve's boyfriend, who was both cute and short. So, not being one to pass up a chance to flirt with a short, cute, gay guy, I did.

For the next hour and a half, until closing, we all stood around talking to each other. It was so nice to actually get back into the "gay scene." I mean, not all the cruising & looking, but just the being totally surrounded by gay guys, fitting in completely and flirting --I haven't done that in quite a while. And Rob had a great time, too. He outed himself to a few of his friends and danced with a guy (me) in public for the first time.

At a little after 2AM, Steve was ready to leave and so the six of us headed outside and towards Ken's car. He said he'd give Rob and me a ride home before heading to Steve and Chi-Chi's place. (Sandi was visiting from Iowa and staying with Chi-Chi.)

Rob and I got out at my place and went to sleep shortly thereafter.


I was walking home from Tower Records a few minutes ago and saw a liquor store on the other side of Mass. Ave. --Rob and I had remarked yesterday how the particular champagne served at the New Year's party was nice. It was especially sweet: The bitterness of alcohol is the primary reason I don't drink. So when I saw the liquor store, I was reminded of our conversation and thought it would be nice if Rob could pick some up.

So I decided to cross the street to check the store's hours. After I'd gotten half-way across, I heard, "Back off me, mother fucker. Don't be a hero. Back off me, mother fucker" By this time, I was across the street and saw a black guy was yelling this at me! I didn't have any idea what he was talking about and felt like saying "Fuck you," but thinking he was either crazy or had just robbed someone, I kept quiet and walked in the other direction. It took a few seconds to sink in, but then I realized I could have been shot for crossing the road. That's a pretty scary thought. Needless to say, I didn't find out when the liquor store closed.

January 6, 1996


Yesterday, I got a call from Jeff, the guy I met at an MIT dance and who I dated this past spring. He said that he'd received my Christmas card and had tried to get in touch with me before, but never had any luck.

We talked on the phone for a while then he asked if I'd like to go to dinner and a movie. I said sure, and we agreed to meet.

He arrived at a little after 7PM, and I gave him a tour of my apartment. We talked about how life was different now and went through a lot of "Remember when..."'s. It was nice to see him again and remember the month or so we spent together. The good times were still nice and the bad were far enough removed to not have any real bite in them.

Once I'd explained how my life had changed because of my computer and web pages, we looked through the movies playing locally and agreed on Father Of The Bride, Part 2. I ordered tickets and we headed to the Pru to eat beforehand.

We eventually found ourselves at the California Pizza Kitchen. We ordered, talked, and ate. And then the check came; we hadn't said anything about who was paying for what, but I thought since I paid for the movie tickets, he would pay for dinner. I knew he thought I had tons of money since I, admittedly, had made it sound like I was making big bucks designing web pages. --Truth is, yes, I do make a nice money when I do web design, but the work isn't regular enough to keep my checkbook from being mostly overdrawn.-- So I let the check lay on the table for a few seconds, pretending to drink my Pepsi and to not really notice it. Jeff soon picked it up and paid. I'm not sure if he was intending to or not, but I'm sure he was keen enough to pick up my signal.

It was nearly time for the movie when we'd finished eating, so we quickly headed to the Copley theatres and went inside. Jeff went to the bathroom, and I went to find a seat. I sat near the front and put my coat in the seat next to me, saving it for Jeff.

Several minutes later, Jeff arrived and sat in the seat beside me, on the side away from my coat, directly in front of a lady. I couldn't figure out why he didn't think not to sit in front of someone if possible, especially considering that he's 6'4", but I knew the lady behind us wouldn't enjoy straining to see over Jeff's head. I suggested that we move over to remedy the situation.

As we got up to move, the lady behind us covered her face embarrassedly and said that she was sorry, that she didn't think we could hear her. I told her that we didn't, that I simply knew Jeff was tall and that she'd like to see the screen. It was a good laugh.

After the movie was over, Jeff and I bundled up and walked swiftly back to my apartment. On the way, he asked if I wanted to go to his place, but I was ready to call it a night. By this time, I'd refound all the reasons that things didn't work between us. I would have rathered that he went home right then, but I didn't say anything.

We got back to my apartment and I checked my voice mail. There was a message from Rob, so I called and invited him over.

For the next couple of hours, the three of us sat around talking. A lot of it was "Don't you hate it when Justin..." talk, so, by the time Jeff was ready to leave at a little after 3AM, I was really ready to call it a night. I gave him a hug, said good-bye, and he left.

January 8, 1996


As you may have noticed, this diary hasn't been updated too often lately. I've become addicted to CU-SeeMe, and I'm not exaggerating. I've been staying up to 6 and 7AM, neglecting nearly everything, and am only writing today because I declared this to be a no-CU-SeeMe day.

Imagine 8 simultaneous black and white 2.5" television screens on your computer monitor. Imagine each of those being a (approximately 15 second delayed) live image of another guy sitting at his computer. Imagine IRC/Chat running in a window simultaneously. That's CU-SeeMe.

Now imagine what 8 gay guys would do with that technology.

For the past week or so, I've been "exploring my sexuality" in a totally safe environment. I first watched some guys on a reflector site, showing their stuff for the world to see. Then, as I looked online for CU-SeeMe related web pages, I saw references to the #cuseeme IRC channel. Now that I had interest in one of the channels, I fiddled around with the software until I got it to work.

Before I knew it, I was on IRC #cuseemenude. After watching a few messages scroll by, I asked if anyone wanted to show off. I got a response from one guy, who asked if I had a camera. "No", I lied.

"male/female?" he wrote back.

I answered, "Male. Would you have preferred otherwise?"

He said yes, but that it didn't matter. He gave me his IP address, and we connected.

For the next ten seconds or so, I saw a shirtless guy sitting in his chair, and then the software disconnected. I tried to reconnect, but it didn't work. I lurked back on the reflector site for a while then went back to IRC.

A few more people were on #cuseeme this time. I double clicked one guy's name and found that he was on #cuseeme and #gaycuseeme. I didn't see that channel in the listing, but /join #gaycuseeme brought me to a window with more than 60 participants.

I again watched a few messages scroll by. There were several requests for one-on-one's and I thought perhaps someone would put on a private show for me. I asked if their were any furry exhibitionist online, hoping once again that I'd get a show without having to reveal anything myself.

A heckler wrote back to ask if I could read the channel's subject, which was something like "No one wants to show if you can't x-mit."

I told him that I could, that I never said that I didn't have a camera. He told me that I implied it and I responded with some cheesy remark about making him really want it.

Soon, I got a private message from a guy saying that he was furry and ready to go 1:1. I asked him a few details, such as his age, and told him that I wouldn't show my face. He said okay and we connected.

I was so nervous, I started vibrating. I knew I could turn my computer off at any time and that I was in control of the situation, but the whole idea of broadcasting pictures of my body to a stranger was extremely erotic. I wanted to do it, but I was so nervous I couldn't get it up.

I tried gritting my teeth to stop the shaking, but it was of little use. Soon, the other guy was standing in front of his camera and slowly pulling down his briefs. His body was furry, defined, and had a bathing suit tan line. I was in lust... and my body started cooperating... though I still shook randomly.

For 10 or 15 minutes, I watched this guy while he watched me. It was one of the most erotic experiences of my young life.

And that's where I've been lately. I now think a separate "Justin's Interactive Search for His Cute Furry Knight" will be in order.

January 9, 1996


I'd rather be asleep right now.

Late last night, I had to clean out the kitchen and bathroom cabinets and even had to remove everything from my closet floor. For right after I moved in, the landlady wanted to spray my apartment for bugs. I didn't see any, but she seemed pretty adamant and said that she'd get me the next time around. Today was supposed to be "the next time around" but since there's been so much snow, I don't know if it will be. I tried calling yesterday to confirm but only got the answering service. And thus, I'm left waiting.

January 10, 1996


They never did show up to spray my apartment, but at least I was able to do some web page designing while I was up.

I finally went back to sleep at around 5PM and took a 3 hours nap. I mostly just hung around the apartment and CU-SeeMe'd a little.

At around midnight, I headed over to Rob's new apartment and spent the night there since he was especially put out when I went home the other night because I needed to talk with Larry.

Today, I woke up at around 2PM and headed back to my apartment. I worked on web pages again, sent some e-mail, cooked dinner, then got on IRC.

I just watched for a while then saw that someone that I'd noticed was particularly cute the other night. I sent him a private message asking if he wanted to go one on one. He wrote back, said that he remembered me, and was interested, but was CU-SeeMe'ing with a friend.

We talked for a bit, but the lag on IRC was terrible... and then I saw a message saying that he'd disconnected. This being, for the most part, an annoymous deal, I had no way to contact him. Nevertheless, I thought he could be one of the few people who have static IP addresses. I looked through a couple of screen captures that I'd take the other night and found the number.

I typed it into CU-SeeMe and it connected. It was him.

So, we proceeded to "do the deed"; all the time, he's saying stuff very specific to me. Like, I asked if he could see me and he said yes, that he could.

Time went on and afterwards he started "talk"ing. But then, he mentioned someone else's name. I thought it was slang, like sometimes when people say, "Howya doing Bob?", so I didn't say anything about it.

But a little later, he used the name again. I thought perhaps he'd somehow forgotten mine, so I asked who he was talking to. He wrote back to say that he thought he was having a private one on one with his friend and to ask why I was lurking at his address.

Feeling like I'd been completely used, or even moreso, feeling like I'd exhibited myself for someone who wasn't even watching, I asked, "What?"

He didn't answer but wrote back asking me to disconnect.

Feeling even worse, I asked if I'd imagined the whole one on one.

He once again didn't answer but simply wrote tell me to disconnect or he would.

I did, and I've felt like crap ever since. I think my emotions are too fragile for this.

3:38AM Technically January 11, 1996

I got back online and found the guy on IRC.

I asked him what had happened and apparently, I connected to his IP address without him knowing while he was connected to someone else. He was totally unaware of me and was upset.

We messaged back and forth a couple of times. I explained that I truly thought we were 1:1'ing and apologized for intruding into his space. He said it was okay, but next time to wait until being asked before connecting.

I'm feeling a little better now, but you know how you feel like an idiot when you wave at someone and they don't see you. For a good while, I had that feeling about ten times over.

January 11, 1996


I've been thinking about what happened yesterday and I've decided that I need a CU-SeeMe break. My mind has completely left me: I think Stuart from Threesome said it best as, "The little head thinking for the big head."


In a few minutes I should be leaving for Manray with Rob. I can't decide whether I should use my fake ID or not. If I use it, I'll pay $2 less to get in and I can have a drink if I want, but I risk getting caught. Hmmm.

Oh well, I think I will use it. If I get caught, I'll just tell myself that I'm sure 10 other probably got caught tonight, too. I mean, it's not like cheating on a math test or anything. No curve will be thrown. No one will be hurt. (Uh, oh, I'm rationalizing (and rambling))

3:28AM Technically January 12, 1996

Rob arrived at my apartment a little before 11PM and we headed towards the T. While we were waiting at the station, I spent most of my time trying to decide which ID to use. The T arrived and we headed towards Central Square with me still rationalizing my using each ID.

Rob and I got off the subway and went up the escalator... and then we were lost. I'd looked on the map before leaving to see that Manray was on Brookline St., but failed to note where that was in relation to the T stop.

So we started walking, and walking, and freezing, and backtracking. For twenty minutes we walked pretty much without any direction, and then, miraculously, we heard music and found the club.

As we neared the door, I made the last minute decision to use my fake ID.

A few seconds passed as I squirmed, waiting for the bouncer to quiz me, or say "Stamp." Luckily, he did the latter. I made it! Two for two.

I couldn't help but smile as we walked inside, and as I was paying the cashier, my smile became even larger. Before I'd been inside ten seconds, a guy was totally checking me out. 30 seconds and I was already having fun.

Rob and I walked through the mass of people for a minute then decided to check our coats. As we were waiting in line, a guy who I thought was really cute and who was definitely short was standing behind us. (It was too dark to actually tell for certain whether he was cute.) He was looking at me, but until we could get into better lighting, I didn't want to make my staring aparent.

After Rob checked his coat, we headed upstairs, figuring that there were plenty of guys around and if the guy behind us was indeed cute, I'd have time to dance with him later.

And so, Rob and I walked around, checking the sites, making a little eye contact, staying together part of the time, separating at others. The cute guys that I thought I noticed on the way to the coat check had somehow disappeared. I mean, there were still cute, short guys there, but none that I remembered from the few minutes beforehand.

Once I'd made a tour of the club a couple times, I thought I should get a beer since I'd gone through all the trouble of using the ID, but not really knowing the names of any brands, I had to find some empty bottles before heading to the bar. --That was not a problem.

I looked through the labels a couple of times then decided a Budweiser would be the safest bet: How could I screw up ordering one of those?

I walked to the bar and said, "A Budweiser."

The bartender said, "Huh?" and I repeated myself, wondering if he couldn't hear me of if I should have said "A Bud" instead. Nevertheless, I got the beer and went back to my scoping.

But before I could dance with anyone, I noticed people getting their coats and leaving. The puritan laws of Massachusetts had crashed this party: Manray was closing at 1AM and it was almost 12:50AM.

I found Rob and told him we only had a few minutes left, and that if he was going to put a dollar in the go-go boy's G-string, he better do it now. That was all the encouragement he needed. He danced up next to the platform and stuck a dollar down the front.

And then we got our coats, complained about how we'd only been there an hour, and caught a cab. The night was short, but fun. Definitely worth doing again soon.

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© 1996 Justin Clouse

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