Addiction Recovery- Day 27

Tuesday, September 27th

I had one wild weekend.

Not wild in the “jumped on tabletops, did several lines of coke, went to an orgy” kind of way, although I definitely had the opportunity to do all of that, for sure. No, it was wild because I did everything I would have done during my pre-sobriety days, but this time, I did it sober.

I went to two large gay parties this weekend, one by the name of Horse Meat Disco, which is a London based, gay warehouse party which spans several continents, and the other by the name of Hot Dog, which is a smaller, less exclusive gay party hosted right here in Los Angeles.

Now that I’m sober, going on 27 days now, I’ve been thinking a lot about sex. Specifically sex. Not dating. But sex.

The Kind Of Sex You Would Only See On Onlyfans, kind of sex.

When my coworker told me about the two events happening during the weekend, I told him to sign me up right away.

I wanted hot, sweaty, hairy men to be my drug. Being sober doesn’t mean I can’t get out there and enjoy life, and being in a room full of attractive men is, of course, my idea of a good time.

I went to both parties, Horse Meat on Saturday night, which lasted until 5am, and Hot Dog on Sunday night, which lasted until around midnight. How modest.

I had a great time, but, sad to report, I didn’t get laid!

For starters, I was sober. Completely sober, which makes it hard to let loose. And at parties like Horse Meat, most men are on at least one substance. But that’s putting it lightly. Most men are on at least two. On top of that, in settings like Horse Meat and Hot Dog, where men are mostly shirtless, wearing little to no clothing, and sizing up each other’s bodies, it’s easy to feel overlooked. Gay culture often expects men to have muscular bodies, muscular hairy bodies, or hairless, muscular bodies. Sometimes guys like a Dad Bod or a Twink, but for the most part, muscle and definition are key. I should clarify, however, that this mostly applies in settings like Horse Meat Disco and Hot Dog, not so much in the Real World. I am living proof that you don’t need to subscribe to those rules in order to get laid. But it helps.

My body is nowhere near perfect, no one’s is. I’m tall, thin, don’t have a big ass or a big, juicy chest, and the little muscle definition I do have comes and goes. Our bodies are always changing, and cultural definitions of beauty and perfection are always changing, too. But in a city like LA, where being fit and beautiful has always been in, those rules still apply.

Gay men will sometimes go to extreme lengths to look “perfect”. They pump steroids, they go to the gym obsessively, they develop extreme and rigid diets, etc. None of that makes for a great or fun partner, by the way. In reality, it will sometimes make them cruel and judgemental, which is inherently unattractive. And, most of the time, it doesn’t even make for great sex. So, although I didn’t get lucky like I wanted to, meaning I didn’t get laid, I still had a blast. We danced, had fun, checked out the Dark Room for some action, and left. I went with a group of friends who would never pressure me to do anything I don’t want to do, and they understand and respect my sobriety. One guy, who was high as a kite on Molly, even said to me: “You’re surprisingly really fun for being sober!”

I am. I earned that compliment. Because I am fun. That meant the world and it was a sign to keep going.

Hot Dog, the Sunday night event, was my night to relax. It was a very low-key evening in Silver Lake, a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in LA. Reader, if you’ve never been to Silver Lake, go. It’s fun and exciting. It’s fascinating to see how quickly neighborhoods change in LA. Lifelong Silver Lake residents better hold on tight, because it will be a completely different neighborhood in 10 years.

Upon leaving Hot Dog, which was dead, because all of the gays were too hungover and strung out from Horse Meat Disco the night before, my friend and I walked to an old Silver Lake classic called Akbar. A small gay bar in Silver Lake, it did not dissapoint. It was packed with so many beautiful men. I fell in love, like, four times.

My friend and I were in heaven. Easily the best spot in LA to meet all kinds of cute guys. I can’t wait to go back.

Wrapping up the weekend, I woke up Monday morning feeling tired. I didn’t want to do much. I felt like staying in bed all day, but, of course, that’s impossible for me. I have a puppy and I feel guilty if I rest or stay in bed for too long. He won’t always be this way, but right now, he needs an owner who will get up and move when he needs it. And thus, I oblige.

I made plans Monday night to watch “Don’t Worry Darling” with a friend I had made when I first moved to LA. He left his number on a piece of paper when my mom and I had breakfast at the restaurant he worked at. Always a sweet gesture. I won’t reveal his name for privacy purposes, but he’s always liked me. He’s always been very good to me, kind to me, and patient with me.

Although I’m not interested in him in a romantic or sexual way, I do enjoy being his friend. He’s fun, and easy to talk to. He’s lived in LA for 15 years, and I like and respect that about him.

We’ve kept in touch throughout my two years in Los Angeles, and I make the time to see him every few months. I enjoy catching up with him.

We watched the film, shared pretzel bites, had a great time talking about how freaky and dystopian the movie is, and I dropped him off home.

Before exiting the car to walk into his apartment, we caught up a little bit more. He’s an actor, and I asked him about his latest projects. He recently starred in a queer indie film which has yet to be released. I told him I would love to see it. He asked me about what I have been up to, and I told him about my addiction recovery and my writing journey. He was impressed.

We gave each other a hug, promised to hang out again soon, and then he left.

Speaking for myself, I couldn’t have been happier with how the night turned out. I would love to see him again soon. He’s a great person.

My original plan for the weekend was to go to these two parties, meet hot men, and have sex. That was the goal. Happy to report that I did not get laid once. Instead, I did something way better: I danced shirtless like no one was watching, hung out with an amazing group of gay men that gave me the encourgament to continue on my journey, and reconnected with a man who truly enjoys my presence and asks for nothing more but to see me again.

With love,
Tito

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Tito Toledo is a Latinx gay man living in Los Angeles. Writing includes personal stories about addiction, romance, longing, and mental health awareness.

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Tito Toledo

Tito Toledo is a Latinx gay man living in Los Angeles. Writing includes personal stories about addiction, romance, longing, and mental health awareness.