The Mighty, Mighty Conqueror

“Christmas, Christmas time is here,” sang Alvin, Simon and Theodore (the Chipmunks). Indeed, New York City’s temperature dipped into wintertime campiness by mid November. Twinkling lights dominated Columbus Circle. Shops capitalized in the pre-holiday cheer with lavish window displays. New Yorkers defrosted with cozy cups of hot chocolate.

In the midst of cheer and campy Christmas music, there was a cameo appearance by one aggressive, Scrooge. “Hey, that’s my cab. I got here first, said I.” On an unseasonably cold November evening, I battled for a cab. Like the great William the Conqueror and his Norman Conquest, I planned to win the battle.

As I shivered on the corner of Fourteenth and Avenue A, I stared at my nemesis, (who also held on to the cab door.). “Holy shit,” said I, internally. He was incredibly handsome, all decked out in a tuxedo. I thought to myself, “wow, this guy really makes me look like a laid-back surfer. He’s really dolled up.”

We both held on to the cab door. “Are you going uptown too?” I asked. He shook his head, yes. “Let’s share a cab,” I suggested. He agreed and we took the voyage, uptown.

Secretly, I hopped this would turn into my holiday cuddle buddy. With liquid courage, I took one brave step in conquering the world for gays, everywhere. “Where are you off to?” I asked. He answered a friend’s wedding at the Palace Hotel. He looked distracted by his phone.

While we heading up First Avenue, I asked the most riveting question. “ Are you gay or straight?” asked I. Without blinking an eye, he answered, “straight.” My face went blank, “So much for cuddling with the guy in the well tailored tux,” declared I.

After arriving at the opulent Palace Hotel, my former conquest leaped out of the cab and gave me money for his portion of the ride. I was slightly disappointed, but “shit, at least I wasn’t rejected for obvious reasons. No regrets,” said I.

I arrived at my cozy apartment in Harlem. With one phone call, I delighted in that single thirty-something tradition of ordering Chinese food and enjoying an indie film, alone. The icy winds blew through the city, while Wonton soup warmed my heart.

I might have been single, but I was okay with that. This the cheerful season to wear my cute sweaters, while blasting Christmas music, twenty-four/seven. Let the lights twinkle and leave some cookies for Santa. The campy holidays are finally here, with or without romance.

 

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1 Comment

  1. here’s to the season of wearing cute sweaters and blasting Christmas music! 😉 xx

    Reply

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