February 1993, Continued...

February 27, 1993
Oh! Becky! Hold on to this one!
I am now in Hawaii; Oahu, to be exact, and the following tale is totally un-fucking-believable!
I came out here with a client of mine, Steven, for a long weekend and ended up staying 10 days. Not only that, I met a couple who want me to move to San Francisco with them and a guy who wants me to live here with him.
Crazy world, isn't it?
Monroe is quite cute and very nice. Then Rudy and Robert are absolutely wonderful. Why doesn't shit like this happen to me back home?
I had this great hotel all to myself since the day we arrived, Steven broke his leg. He has been in the hospital ever since. I fucked like a bunny all week long.
Got a great tan and probably gained 10 pounds on Kalhua pig and pineapple.
But now, my life is in flux. Do I move to Oahu with Rudy and Robert until they move to San Francisco or do I move here with Munroe until he eventually returns to SF? Or do I go home with the knowledge that I am an attractive guy and not come back to paradise at all?
God, like can be so complex!

February 28, 1993
Have Mercy!
Oh, what a mess this is. I am now at the airport and the trip that was supposed to cost me nothing has now, by my calculations, cost me over a thousand dollars. Time off work, you know. I have Monroe here as a romantic interest, Rudy and Robert as parental figures and Steven as an enemy. Not to mention that I maybe can't pay my rent on time. Then Anthony is dying to see me and Jason is kinda back in the picture. I don't see myself making the move to Hawaii neither can I see myself living in San Francisco. Too much, too soon. Call it a lover's dream of love, I guess. I was far too spontaneous already and can't just up and move. Never mind the probationary order not to leave California. So, I suppose it will mean a farewell to paradise. I pretty much knew that I can't live with Robert; unless Monroe gets the promotion to manager and hires me as a waiter, I can't move here either. Y'see, no one knows I turn tricks for a living. I guess what it means is that I come back to Long Beach a poorer, but wiser, man.
I have learned, for example, that I can go to a bar alone, and that I can talk to people and have a good time. After all, I had sex with four very cute men - from 23-year-old Hawaiians to 30-year-old blonde models. Not to mention the dozens of old trolls who hit on me. I am obviously fun to be with - hell, three people want me to move here with them… not a bad deal. If only a cute rich man had asked - I'd never go home!
Since I recently discovered the joy of being fucked, that isn't even an issue anymore. I see I have been remiss in chronicling the events of the last ten days, so I shall recount them here. Steven, a client of my escort business, invited me for a long weekend in Oahu. We landed Thursday night and went right to bed. Friday morning we went for a drive around the island and were read-ended by a car of tourists not paying attention. Thinking nothing of it, we proceeded to Waimea Falls for a swim in the falls and a cliff diving show. Upon our return to the hotel, Steven complained of a swollen knee and we went to the ER to have it checked out. E-rays of the knee showed no injury and he was sent home. He spent the night vomiting and in the morning (Saturday) he was taken by ambulance to the ER for a fractured leg. He was admitted for surgical repair of the break and thus began our dilemma. That night, the 20th, I took my first paralyzing steps into a gay bar on the island. Hamburger Mary's. I sat in the cute front bar and made some small talk (after half an hour of silence) with several locals, two of whom you have heard: Rudy and Robert. They took me on a bar tour to Hula's and CC's. We ended the evening dancing at Hula's where I met Rich - a little blonde bodybuilder from San Diego. I was thinking it was my turn to play bottom, but he turned out to be a total bottom so who was I to turn him down? He left that night. Sunday I lazed by the pool all day and went to visit Steven in the hospital. I spent the night in my room alone watching TV. Monday, Rudy and I hit Queen's Beach, which is rather appropriately named. That afternoon rudy and I lunched together then went to see Steven. We went out to Mary's and Hula's again (the Three Amigos) and that night I went home with Tom on his scooter. Having a great view of Waikiki and Diamond Head is a great line to get men back to my room. He left that night to go back to the bars for more. And I thought I was a bar whore. Tuesday night was me along on the beach of Waikiki, a visit to Steven and then dinner at Rudy's & Rober's. A nice night.
Wednesday the trouble began.
I was set to leave Tuesday but I arranged for an extension of our comp'd room rate for two more nights. Wednesday was a semi-slow day, Rudy and I went to lunch with Robert. We then went shopping and then picked up Robert for dinner at Mary's. That turned into drinks and then an all-nighter. I didn't visit Steven that day due to the unplanned festivities. So that night I meet Berin from D.C. Talk about the Spirit of Aloha! Most submissive boy yet! That night I got a 3:30am phone call from Steven in the hospital with this opening line, "So, you aren't coming to see me anymore?" I had Berin in bed next to me and didn't feel like dealing with it at that time, so I told him I would call him later that day.
Thursday Berin and I had sex again, then he left and Rudy and I hit the beach. Robert took the afternoon off and we all went back to their place, my hotel stay now over. We had to take the car back and so Robert suggested that we stop for a drink. I should've known… One turned into how many? That night I met Monroe, the 28yo blond model/actor. He, Rudy and I went to the gay beach Friday.
Keep in mind I have not seen Steven, who is by now very upset at me claiming I cost him more money for staying at the hotel longer and for keeping the car longer. The bill at the hotel did not reflect any daily charges for the room rate. It was agreed that he would cover my expenses for the trip, so he has no basis for complaint there. Things got so bad that I decided it would be best to not even use his ticket home and ended up buying my own. His ticket was a companion fare, and I didn't want any issue with my companion not being there due to his hospital stay. Round trip being cheaper than one-way, I also have a return ticket for Wednesday. So, Friday was the beach, a lite dinner and then my "farewell party". It was kind of a mess because we were all arguing about if I leave, when I leave, when I come back, how I will support myself if I move to Oahu or San Francisco, etc. Rudy got quite moody and we all left feeling quite badly.
Saturday morning I announced my plans to leave Saturday and tie up some loose ends and then return to Oahu. So, I finally went to see Steven at the hospital and give him the police report from the accident, the hotel bill, the Avis bill, and my plane ticket. He threatened to have me arrested so I didn't bother to talk to him and I just dropped his things and left.
I should point out something here. Steven was a paraplegic and in recovery from drug use. Not being able to really feel his legs is why he wasn't sure his leg was broken at first. Then, the drugs they gave him after his surgery caused all those horrible negative aspects of his "user" self to resurface. He may be a great guy when he isn't under the influence. But I wasn't going to stay and talk with someone who was clearly acting out because of the drugs.
Monroe met me at the ER to take me to the airport, but because of a parking lot mishap, I missed my plane. So, I spent the night with him. We had wine, bread and cheese, watch a movie and had sex all night. Not a bad night.
That brings me to now. On my plane, ready for take-off, and homeward bound. As I said, poorer but wiser.
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