#but it is so trendy now that it seems people have sanitized the very real very messy very fucked up reality

[joyboythehopepunk]

being told i'm very intelligent and self aware since i've been young. being told i'm very mature for my age. people in my age group and adults in my life noticing i was introverted, self-isolating, and/or had no friends. people noticing it was hard for me to get close to people. people noticing i had very intense emotions and mood swings.

people noticing i wasn't normal. that i was weird.

enter pretty privilege. enter high masking. enter sun-coded (but depressed) individual.

my outward characteristics and peoples' biases (neither of which i can control) along with my constitution (being autistic, trans, brown, attractive) seems to REALLY vex people.

up to the point they only zero in on three aspects of me:

i'm hot. i'm trans. i'm weird af.

also note: not having any proper support or love because of my characteristics and peoples' biases/expectations.

makes for life on nightmare mode. i am single and lonely and probably gonna die alone because of shit i can't help. because i can't find ONE person i can love and be loved by.

and i know i'm not the only one. i know i'm not. but this is shitty. shitty af.

the worse part is being misunderstood and mistreated. and no matter how many times or how many ways you try to explain yourself people still get it wrong and have the worst takes ever.

Neurodivergent people are never undiagnosed. We are misdiagnosed. Our symptoms don't go unnoticed, and people will always attribute them to some sort of cause. They'll just attribute them to personality and blame the individual for their symptoms.

For example. My autism is not undiagnosed, it's been misdiagnosed as "too sensitive," "awkward," "rude," "obsessive," and "too intense." My brother's adhd wasn't undiagnosed, it was misdiagnosed as "lazy," "impulsive," "annoying," and "can't seem to get any work done."

Growing up without a diagnosis is growing up believing that you are to blame for your differentness. Your symptoms are a personality flaw. You are diagnosed by everyone around you as "weird."

[woman-respecter]

To the people who believe chappell is faking gay...I think the reason you think that is because she's gay in a very chronically online internet way that makes it come across as weird/annoying. Then I noticed that these days white gays also act over the top to compensate for their whiteness lol and it comes across as very fake/forced/insincere. (Let's not even think about how black and brown queer musicians will be just as explicitly gay like janelle monae and yet only chappell gets to be called the cool lesbian pop star 🤔 only chappell gets to have queerness as a cool personality while janelle doesn't get that support and love from the queer community 🙃 look at how they treat black women who detail eating out women in songs. That's not enough for them to be queer icons and ironically black women get called fake gays more than anyone else..)

Honestly? Don't let some of these anons silence you. Yeah she is explicitly gay and I wouldn't doubt that she is. However her gayness really feel fake because well it's her selling point. She capitalizes on it HARD and so naturally it won't feel as real as it should.

It's as you said earlier: gay artists in this industry will naturally come across as pretend because now being gay is cool and trendy. it's a huge selling point. capitalism. It's not the fault of gay artists and I feel for them. But this is just a fact. Because queerness has been commercialized it feels so fake now. Fake acceptance. Fake representation. It's been sanitized to be shoved in a box 🤷‍♀️

Also I'm the anon who did the first chappell rant :) I love your blog and I also love taylor's music ❤ we have similar opinions haha

yeah i get that, i guess a lot of actually gay people seem disingenuous bc they are like a tiktok version of gay, esp famous people.

and thanks anon ☺️

[prouvaireafterdark]

See Something You Like? - Malex Sex Shop AU Part 1/2

It’s FINALLY here: the Malex Sex Shop AU you’ve all been waiting for! Well, the first half anyway (Part Two will be out soon!)

I dedicate this fic to my friendly neighborhood Thigh Riding Anon™️, who inspired this fic with her galaxy brain prompt, and all of you who have been patiently waiting for me to finish this absolute monster of a smut fic. I hope you enjoy it! 💜😘

Also on AO3!

***

When Michael moved to California to start his PhD in agricultural engineering, he’d grossly underestimated how expensive the move would be. The stipend that came with his teaching assistantship just barely covers the rent on his studio apartment, and finding a roommate off Craigslist that’s desperate enough to live in such close quarters isn’t exactly an option considering how many alien skeletons Michael’s got in his closet. The vegetables he’s planning on growing in his complex’s shared community garden will help, but if he wants to eat any time soon he’s gonna have to find a part time job.

Enter Jackie and Kris, the delightful middle-aged lesbian couple who live next door and share Michael’s enthusiasm for sustainable gardening and the occasional midnight smoke.

They get to talking one night while passing a bong back and forth over the railing that divides their balconies, first about DIY organic fertilizer and then about Michael’s degree. He lets spill in a moment of weakness that his coursework is a breeze, but he’s worried he’ll run out of money before he can finish the program. As embarrassed as he is about the confession, it ends up saving his life.

Turns out, Jackie and Kris own a sex shop named Pandora’s Box around the corner and have been looking for some help running the storefront while they focus on expanding their online business and organizing safe sex workshops for the local queer and BDSM communities. The hours would be flexible around Michael’s schedule and all they really would need him to do is stand behind the register, ring people up, and answer questions about their products with “affability and professionalism.”

It’s maybe not the work he imagined himself doing when he moved to California for grad school, but for $15/hr, Michael really can’t afford to say no. He sits for an official interview the very next day and leaves Jackie’s home office with a new job and a pot brownie wrapped in tin foil, eager to get started on both.

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

The first thing Michael notices when he lifts his head from the stack of exams on the counter is the black leather jacket that’s stretched across the man’s broad shoulders. When Michael’s eyes flick up to get a look at the man’s face, he’s met with sharp cheekbones, beautifully tan skin, and a pair of trendy but understated sunglasses. He looks a little lost—unsurprising, since Michael’s certain he would have remembered it if he’d ever seen a man that pretty walk into his shop before—but when he realizes Michael’s looking at him, he flips his sunglasses up onto his artfully messy dark hair and smiles.

And oh, what a smile it is—the most beautiful one Michael has ever seen, soft and sweeter that it has any right to be, his full lips capturing Michael’s attention with ease. His heart pounds in his chest as their eyes lock together, and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d think he’s just fallen in love with a perfect stranger.

Before Michael can do more than shoot him a dazed smile in return, the man disappears down an aisle.

As a general rule, Michael doesn’t talk to customers who don’t approach him for help first. It’s best practice in a store that sells pornography and sex toys—most customers don’t want to be questioned about their kinks, and those that do usually already know what they’re looking for—but the pull he feels toward this man is undeniable. He’s curious about him for reasons he can’t explain, and as his feet carry him off in the direction the man went, Michael decides not to question it.

Michael weaves casually through the aisles until he finds the man staring up at the floor to ceiling wall display of dildos and other anal toys—because of course he does. He sends a prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that this man isn’t buying something for his girlfriend before he steps in line beside him.

“See something you like?” Michael asks, toning down his customer service voice into something approaching normal human speech.

Up close, he can see the man has a septum piercing, which glints a little in the light. Michael’s seen plenty of people with body jewelry come through this store, but he’s never really thought of it as cute until now.

The man smiles at him, a little shy, but Michael’s not so distracted this time that he misses the way his eyes flick over his body in naked interest, and it leaves him feeling a little hot under the collar.

“I’m not sure yet,” the stranger answers.

Even his voice is nice, Michael notes, deeper than he expects and smooth like honey.

Michael nods in understanding. He gets it—this wall can certainly be intimidating, even for someone who’s been to a sex shop before. He looks the man over again, taking in his charmingly flushed cheeks, and wonders if it’s his first time in a place like this. If maybe he needs a little help after all.

It’s a good thing Michael’s an expert, huh?

He doesn’t want to come at him too strongly, though. Encountering an overbearing sales associate isn’t any more fun than being one, and Michael certainly isn’t looking to push the guy passed his personal boundaries. He may be smitten, but he’s not an asshole.

“Well, if you have any questions about any of our products, my name’s Michael,” he says, flashing him a warm smile.

He’s about to go off in search of a nearby display to straighten up so he can give the man some space, but his voice catches Michael’s attention once more.

“And if I don’t have questions?” the man asks, and when Michael turns to look at him there’s a real smile tugging at his lips this time. “What should I call you then?”

Michael laughs, shaking his head as he shoots back, “Okay, smartass, what should I call you?”

For a single, horrible second after his own words reach his ears, Michael thinks he’s gone too far, but the sudden burst of anxiety in his chest turns out to be for nothing—the man’s grin only grows wider.

“Alex,” he says, and to Michael’s surprise he holds his hand out for him.

Alex’s palm is warm against his when he shakes it, and Michael can’t help but wonder how it would feel anchored in his curls or clutching tight to the skin of his hips.

“So, Alex,” Michael starts, emboldened by the introduction. He finds he likes the way Alex’s name feels in his mouth. “What are you in the market for today?”

Alex flushes a little and it’s so endearing Michael has to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“That’s the thing—I don’t really know,” Alex answers honestly. “There’s just so many options.”

“Okay, well, let’s start with an easier question: are you shopping for yourself or a significant other?” he asks, and, yeah, maybe he’s planning on filing the answer to his question away for later. Sue him.

Alex looks at him like maybe he suspects ulterior motives, but Michael shamelessly holds his gaze.

“No boyfriend,” Alex says, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I’m looking for something for myself.”

“Fantastic,” Michael smiles, before he slips a little deeper into salesman mode. “So, judging by the aisle we’re standing in, I’m gonna take a leap and say that you’re looking for a toy you can use for internal anal stimulation. Is that right?”

“Yeah. Think you can help me out with that?” Alex asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Definitely,” Michael answers with a smirk before he turns to the wall display. “As you can see, we have a pretty wide selection; you name it, we’ve probably either got it in stock or can have it shipped in three to five business days. Is there a particular price point you’re aiming for?”

Alex seems to think about it. “I’m not really looking to spend more than $100, but I could go up to $150 if it’ll change my life.”

“I can work with that,” Michael assures him. “Any other parameters I should keep in mind?”

“I’ve read that jelly toys can be dangerous, so definitely not anything made out of that,” Alex says, and Michael’s glad to hear he’s done his research. Jelly toys are frustratingly popular because they’re so cheap and Michael usually has to put in a little work to talk people out of buying them.

“Oh yeah, fuck that jelly shit,” Michael agrees, and Alex’s startled laugh makes his heart skip. “They’re impossible to sanitize properly and they’re full of toxic chemicals—you wouldn’t believe the horror stories I’ve heard about them since I started working here. If you’re looking for something with a softer texture, medical grade silicone is really the only way to go. Just make sure you stick to water-based lube or else you could ruin your toy.”

Alex nods thoughtfully, like he’s read that too.

“Glass and metal are also good options,” Michael continues. “They obviously feel a lot harder inside you, but they’re easy to clean, you don’t have to be as careful about what lube you use, and they’re naturally waterproof. They’re excellent for temperature play, too, if you’re into that.”

“Never tried it,” Alex confesses.

“It’s not for everyone, but it can be a fun time,” Michael says, recalling the scorching summer afternoon he spent fooling around with an ice cube tray and a girl he met on Tinder. “So, your options are metal, glass, and silicone. Any preference?”

Michael notices Alex’s eye catching on a set of stainless steel plugs, but he answers, “Silicone for now, I think.”

“Good choice,” Michael replies easily. “So, now that we know what material you’re looking for, let’s talk about your ideal experience. What are you looking to get out of your purchase?”

“An orgasm?” Alex answers, his confusion evident.

Michael laughs. “Sorry, I meant—how would you like to get there? What sort of sensation are you looking for?”

Alex looks a little lost at the question, so Michael turns to plan B.

“See, this one, for example,” Michael says, pointing to a familiar black prostate massager, “is great for when you wanna get off fast and hard. It’s not too thick, so you don’t have to spend a ton of time opening yourself up for it, and the curve puts the tip of it right up on your p-spot. It’s also got a bunch of different vibration settings and get this: It’s waterproof.”

Alex hums in interested acknowledgement, though Michael notes that the longer he talks, the more Alex’s attention is fixed on him, not the toy.

Feeling bold, Michael adds, “I’d advise caution if you’ve got thin walls though.”

“Why, does it make a lot of noise?” Alex asks curiously.

A slow grin spreads across Michael’s lips. “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “But you will.”

Michael watches Alex try and fail to suppress a smile, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You seem pretty sure of that,” Alex says when he releases it. “That from firsthand experience, or are you just a really good salesman?”

Michael laughs, equal parts delighted by Alex’s flirting and embarrassed by the memory his question brings to mind.

“What?” Alex asks, a smile building on his face.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you,” Michael hesitates, his face heating up just thinking about it. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex goads him. “Don’t be such a tease.”

Michael gasps in mock offense. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but a tease isn’t one of them.”

“That mean you’re gonna tell me what’s got you blushing like that after all?” Alex asks.

“I’m not blushing,” Michael protests, even though he definitely is.

Alex raises an eyebrow at him. It’s stupidly attractive.

With a huff, Michael considers his options. He doesn’t usually give personal anecdotes like this to customers, but there’s just something about Alex that makes Michael want to give him whatever he wants.

“Fuck it, why not?” Michael says to himself.

Alex smiles victoriously and settles in to listen.

“So, about a year ago, I came in to work and found this box sitting on the table in the break room, which was filled with a bunch of different toys from the company that makes that massager. I asked my boss about it and she said the company sent her a bunch of free samples.”

“Does that happen often?” Alex interrupts to ask. “Companies just send you free stuff?”

“Eh, sometimes, if it’s from a new line of toys that a company wants retailers to hype up,” Michael explains. “It helps that my boss Jackie’s wife Kris has a pretty popular blog where she tests and rates toys, so she gets free stuff all the time.”

“Huh,” Alex says. “So I’m guessing you took one after your shift?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael nods. “Tried it out as soon as I got home.”

“How was it?”

“Intense is about the only word that covers it,” Michael answers. “Those vibrations can be really powerful, it was like nothing else I’d ever tried before. Definitely one of my top ten solo orgasms of all time.”

“Not number one?” Alex asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I came in, like, a minute, so no, not quite,” Michael laughs.

“Is that the embarrassing part?” Alex asks. “That you came so fast?”

“Not quite,” Michael winces, his cheeks flushing. “As I was coming, I screamed so loud that the little old lady whose living room is on the other side of my bedroom called the cops on me. Apparently, she thought I was being murdered.”

“Oh no,” Alex laughs, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “Not exactly the happy ending I was after.”

Alex laughs again, but there’s heat behind his eyes too when he asks, a moment later, “Not usually a screamer, I take it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Michael winks.

“Mm,” Alex hums thoughtfully. He looks Michael right in the eye as he asks, “Well, what if I don’t want to get off that fast? What if I want to make it last?”

Michael tries not to smile as he gets back to business.

“Well, I should mention that this massager does also have softer levels of vibration intensity, which I only discovered after Officer ACAB knocked on my door,” Michael says.

Alex laughs before asking incredulously, “You didn’t read the instructions?”

“Uh, no,” Michael admits. “I’m more of a ‘take things apart and see how they work’ kinda guy, I’ve never been big on reading the directions.”

“Even after your little misadventure?” Alex asks.

“Hey, don’t knock my process. I got a fantastic orgasm out of that ‘misadventure,’” Michael reminds him.

“How could I forget?” Alex asks, shooting Michael a look that really tests his self-restraint.

Michael huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch the back of his own neck so he doesn’t do something stupid, like push Alex against the fucking dildo display and kiss that look off his face.

“So, anyway,” Michael starts, shifting the topic back toward the task at hand, “you can either learn from my mistakes or you can try something that doesn’t have vibrations at all. We’ve got a great selection of dildos in all shapes and sizes.”

“Do any of them come with a story?” Alex asks cheekily.

Michael snickers in spite of himself. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally. “Let’s see what we’ve got in stock.”

Michael hums as he looks over the display, searching for another recommendation he can make, when his eye catches on a purple dildo with ribbing along the shaft.

“This one’s a good starter dildo,” he says, pointing it out. “It’s a pretty modest size, but the ribbing feels really nice and there’s a suction cup on the bottom if you wanna stick it somewhere and fuck yourself onto it. There’s also a few by the same company that have a hole that you can slide a bullet vibrator into if you wanna get something that can do both.”

“Have you tried them all?” Alex asks.

Michael laughs, looking up at the expansive display of dildos. “Not all of them,” he says, glancing over to Alex as he continues, “but the employee discount here is very generous and, as you already know, sometimes we get free shit. I’ve built up a bit of a collection since I started working here.”

“I see,” Alex replies, the corner of his mouth turning up before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Michael tracks the movement hungrily when Alex releases it a moment later to ask, “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Depends,” Michael shrugs, aiming for nonchalance even though he can feel himself chubbing up in his jeans.

“On?”

“On how full I wanna feel,” Michael answers, and there’s no mistaking the heat that blazes in Alex’s eyes at those words, nor the sudden intake of breath that fills his chest.

If Alex wants him half as much as it looks like he does, Michael doesn’t even care if he gets fired for where this conversation is headed, so long as it ends with Alex’s hands on him.

“See, sometimes all I’m looking for is enough internal stimulation to get the job done,” Michael elaborates, his eyes watching Alex closely. “When I feel like that, I’ll use that prostate massager I showed you earlier on myself.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to the sleek black toy still sitting on the shelf that they’d just discussed.

“And the other times?” Alex asks when he tears his eyes away.

“Other times… other times I really wanna feel it,” Michael purrs, taking a step closer. Alex’s eyes drop right to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and Michael can’t stop himself from asking, “You ever get like that, Alex? Like you just need something thick and heavy filling you up, so deep you’ll be feeling it for days?”

“Yeah,” Alex rasps.

“You wanna know what I fuck myself with then?” he asks.

Alex nods, eyes still on Michael’s mouth.

Michael gives him a sly grin before he backs up a few steps to find the sample of the eight inch galaxy dildo he treated himself to a few months ago. Alex follows him, as if they’re connected by an invisible string.

“This one,” he says, removing it from the shelf and offering it up for Alex’s inspection.

Alex takes it from him, his eyes passing over it with interest as he tests the give of the silicone with his fingers. Michael wonders if he’s imagining what it would look like inside him. He hopes he is.

“It might not look like much compared to some of the fucking horse cocks we sell here, but it’s thick,” Michael says, his cock hardening further the more he thinks about it, the longer Alex stands there holding it. “Takes me some time to work up to it, but it’s always worth it when I do.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, eyes fixed where he’s shifting his hold on the dildo to measure it’s thickness with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Michael breathes, watching how Alex wraps his thumb and forefinger in a tight circle around the toy. They only just touch around its girth.

Alex hums to himself, sounding pleased, and Michael’s gut churns with the need to hear that sound again.

“I bet this stretches you out nice, huh,” Alex wonders a moment later, and with the way he stares at Michael then, like he’s trying to picture how he would look stuffed full, his rim taught over the silicone, he just knows Alex isn’t speaking generically.

“Yeah, it does,” Michael agrees quietly, trying not to squirm under the intensity of Alex’s gaze.

“How do you use it?” Alex asks him, stoking the flames inside him further.

“If you play your cards right, you just might find out,” Michael shoots back.

“You’d let me watch?” Alex asks, a smile teasing at his lips, and it’s all Michael can do not to get lost in the idea of riding that toy while Alex watches with his hand around his cock.

“Think I’d let you do more than that,” Michael admits.

Alex full-on grins at that, but before he can open his mouth to reply someone clears their throat behind them.

Michael’s heart seizes in his chest as he whips around to see Jenna Cameron, a regular customer and occasional drinking buddy of his, standing with her thumbs tucked into her police-issue gun belt. Michael can feel his erection flag at the sight of her.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some service around here, Guerin?” Cameron asks, somehow managing to look annoyed and amused simultaneously. He notices there’s a discreet black plastic bag dangling from her fingers. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t hear anyone else come in,” Michael apologizes, trying and failing to keep a blush off his face.

“I can see that,” she answers with a pointed glance at Alex.

Michael takes an instinctive step away from him and clears his throat.

“I’ve gotta—“ he says to Alex, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, eyes on his shoelaces. It makes the pleasure that had been coiling in his belly sour further.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael tells him, soft enough that Cameron won’t overhear.

The smile Alex gives him in return is encouraging enough that Michael’s fairly certain he won’t disappear if he leaves, so he follows Cameron back toward the register, all the while pointedly ignoring the smirk he can feel her directing at the side of his face.

He walks around the other side of the cash wrap and crosses his arms over his chest before he asks her, without an ounce of enthusiasm, “What do you want?”

“Damn, you’re really earning that employee of the month trophy aren’t you, Guerin?” she jokes, tossing the bag on the table. “I bought a harness this weekend, but it was broken when I took it out of the box. Receipt’s in the bag.”

Michael takes the box the leather strap-on harness came in out of the bag along with the receipt.

“Do you want a refund or an exchange?”

“Refund,” she says. “I’m thinking about getting one of those strapless ones instead.”

“You should talk to Kris, she’s got opinions about those,” he says as he starts scanning the receipt.

“Oh?” Cameron asks. “Is she here?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “You can catch her at the bondage workshop she’s running later though.”

“Perfect,” she replies before leaning forward onto the counter on her elbows. “So are you gonna tell me who the hottie with the nose ring you were talking to is?”

“Why, so you can find out if he’s got any priors?” Michael jokes, not taking his eyes off his task.

“Very funny,” Cameron deadpans. “You fuck him yet?”

“None of your business,” Michael answers.

“So that’s a no, then,” she smirks, and Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh in response.

“Don’t you have places to be? Donuts to eat?” he asks, pushing her return receipt hastily in her direction.

Before Cameron can answer, the front door swings open and in walks a short middle-aged woman with a dark brown pixie cut carrying an iced coffee and a stack of papers.

Michael startles at the sight of her, realizing it must be later in his shift than he’d thought—exactly how long had he stood there talking to Alex?—but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Kris!” Michael calls to her. “Perfect timing, Cam’s got some strap-on questions for you.”

“Well, I’ve got some strap-on answers,” Kris answers cheerfully as she walks around them to drop the stack of papers—freshly-printed but yet-to-be-folded safe sex pamphlets, Michael notices—onto the counter next to the second register. “Step into my office, baby girl.”

Cameron shoots Michael a look before she steps to the side to talk to Kris, who’s leaning patiently against the side of the cash wrap.

With Cameron finally out of his hair but Kris close enough to notice him leave, Michael starts planning his escape so he can find Alex again, but it turns out he doesn’t need one. When he looks up after putting Cam’s broken harness in the bin under the counter, he sees the man in question approaching his register with a familiar black box in his hands.

“I was gonna wait for you,” Alex explains as he sets the box on the counter, “but I’m actually supposed to be meeting my brother soon.”

“Shame,” Michael says, wishing they had more time. “I was looking forward to finishing that conversation.”

Alex glances covertly at Kris and Cameron before he leans a hair closer and says, “Don’t know that it was the conversation you were hoping to finish.”

Michael blushes, casting a look at Kris and Cameron to make sure they’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice when he leans in a little further and says, low so only Alex will hear, “What can I say? I’m very committed to customer satisfaction.”

Alex laughs, a bright and happy sound that makes Michael’s heart feel strangely full, before he asks, “You charm all your customers like this?”

“No,” Michael says honestly. “Not even a little bit.”

Alex looks at him for a long minute, trying to spot the lie, and when he finds none he merely shakes his head with an incredulous smile.

“Lucky me,” he says.

Michael winks at him before he turns his attention to the box on the counter, shifting it in his hands until he finds the barcode. He usually never comments on his customers’ purchases, but with this one he simply can’t resist.

“Went with the prostate massager, huh?” Michael asks, as he rings him up.

“What can I say?” Alex answers, a smile creeping onto his face. “You made me curious.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” Michael says.

“No,” Alex replies, and the way he looks at him then makes Michael wonder if they’re still talking about the massager. “I don’t think I will.”

Michael smiles at him before he tells him his total. Alex inserts the end of his card in the reader and his receipt prints a brief moment later.

“Can you sign here?” Michael asks, passing Alex the merchant’s copy of his receipt and the green pen he’d been grading with earlier.

“Mhm,” Alex hums, plucking the pen from his fingers and signing his name in a delicate script.

Michael ducks under the counter to find a bag adequately sized for Alex’s purchase before he places the box inside it along with Alex’s copy of the receipt.

“You’re all set,” Michael says, pushing the box in Alex’s direction.

“Thanks,” Alex smiles, holding the merchant copy of the receipt out for Michael to take. “And this is for you.”

Their fingers brush as Michael takes it from him and Michael swears he can feel the tension crackling between them at the simple touch.

“Thanks,” Michael says, mouth a little dry.

Alex glances back to Kris and Cam before he says, “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“You too,” Michael says, his eyes straying pointedly to the black bag in Alex’s hand.

“Oh, I will,” Alex says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile before he turns and heads for the door.

Michael can’t help but watch his ass and those broad shoulders as he leaves.

Once Alex is gone, Michael unfolds the receipt Alex left for him. He’s about to slide it into the folder they keep by the register for receipts when he notices the phone number printed neatly beside Alex’s signature. Below, Alex has also written the words: Hit me up if you want to hear my review.

“You strike out?”

Michael startles, looking up to see Cameron leaning on the counter, a lot closer than she was a moment ago. He sees Kris at the far end, folding her papers into pamphlets for her workshop later.

“Not quite,” Michael grins and pockets the receipt.

[goodlawdmaude]

Colombia and Peru 2019

3/7 SAN FRANCISCO --> BOGOTA

3/7-3/8

J and I ubered from ASF to airport, got through security, grabbed a drink at the terminal, then waited at our gate to board. Alarmingly, we heard our names over the intercom, but we just had to show our passports at the desk - no problem. A flight attendant on our flight got sick, so the flight needed 9 volunteers to get off the plane. This delayed us, but we eventually got off the ground. Slept some on the flight, had to go through customs in Mexico City, then through security to our gate. It was around 6am and light outside. Jarod resolved to start the day, but I wanted to sleep more. I slept for 30 great minutes on the flight, then watched Bohemian Rhapsody. The third person in our aisle was sketchy: late, on the phone (free WhatsApp), and importing a lot (per his customs form). We got through customs pretty quickly, then grabbed a taxi and made it to our hostel around 3pm. We rested briefly, then went out for lunch—arepas, chaufa arroz con pollo, and a special combo with seafood and rice in a divine yellow sauce. Jarod was starting to feel the full effect of his cold, but we went for a brief walk anyway through the center of town and the Museo de Botero. Lots of street vendors with various crafts and snacks, some alpacas, police with dogs with muzzles, cobblestone roads, sanitation workers in blue jumpsuits, green mountains in the background. While driving, we saw stark constrasts between shoddy roadside structures and the grand skyscrapers just behind them. Roads were paved and nice. We walked back, buying water at a nearby market, then took naps, showered, and went to sleep very early (8pm). On two instances, we were awoken by rowdiness in the hostel. Overall, slept 11(!!) hours.

3/9 BOGOTA-->MEDELLIN

3/9 Bogota-->Medellin

After our long sleep, we ate breakfast (eggs, fruit, bread, homemade jam, pancakes, lots of fruit) at the hostel, then asked reception to call a taxi for us. We made it to the airport and ultimately made it to the gate smoothly (despite one snafu: struggling to follow arrows to find el bano). Flight was super quick, it was hot when we landed, and we grabbed a taxi from a line outside. The ride to El Poblado was pretty green and undeveloped. It reminded me of driving in Costa Rica (narrow, windy roads), but the roads were paved and in better shape. We tried to drop our bags at the airbnb but couldn’t. We grabbed lunch at El Florez a couple doors down—very yummy healthy food. We tried the airbnb again to no avail. We walked around to take in the town. It was very green, hot and trendy - peppered with new-looking bars, restaurants, and shops. Dying of heat, we stopped for lemonades at a restaurant by the airbnb then went to get our key. We got in and hung for a bit--the airbnb was plenty spacious but nothing super fancy. We grabbed a drink at El Jenun(??)--J built his own gin and tonic while i had a fancy cocktail. We walked for a while--through some slightly seedier roads--to a gypsy/fox-themed pizza place for dinner. Grabbed a beer at Medellin beer company and J accidentally ordered a pitcher. Waitresses were scantily clad and hot; there was an old weird white dude who knew them all far too well. We came home, showered, and went to bed around 11pm.

3/10

After sleeping in until 9am, I straightened my hair (big deal) and then we went to El Pergamino for coffee and breakfast. I had a milky delicious chai latte and eggs with tomato and pesto roasted in a little crepe brûlée pan. The coffee shop was super trendy and cute. From there we walked to the Poblado Metro station and found our way onto the metro. It was very hot and pretty crowded but a really nice system. We got off to transfer to a gondola which took us over a poorer area--tin roofs, lots of graffiti, kids and dogs running everywhere. Then we got on a second gondola which took us over a final stretch of town and over a few miles of forest. The view was unbelievable. We were squished in with a Spanish family of 6 who were talking about how hot it was here and elsewhere. We got off and started exploring El Parque Arvi. It took us a while to realize we couldn’t hike the trails without a guide, and we couldn’t get a guide without booking online. We walked around and down the road where there were lots of street vendors and a couple restaurants. We got overpriced mangos. We headed back and went to grab lunch before seeing the botanical garden. There was mostly fast food. We got two empanadas to go and sat by the main area of vendors and performers in front of the garden. We went in, admires the flora, saw some iguanas, then headed out. We intended to walk to Cerro el Volador, but then the area we were walking through got a little sketchy and we turned around. We went to Explora Park--walked through the aquarium, reptile exhibits, and a room dedicated to the mind. By the time we were ready to leave, it was pouring. We ran to a taxi, had some confusion with the address, but made it back. We rebounded out for dinner (kebab house - mediocre) nearby, then got dessert across the street and wine and waters at exxito 

3/11

Woke up *early* 720 to get ready for our free walking tour through Real City Tours. Jarod made breakfast (scrambled eggs and an arepa) while I got dressed. We left a few minutes later than hoped, but hustled down Calle 10 to the poblado metro station and made it with time to spare to meet our guide. He wore a hat and a red shirt and directed our flock of 23 gringo ducklings onto the metro (which Jarod and I had already mastered the previous day), and we took it three stops north to Alpujarra. We got off, regrouped, and headed off to start the tour. It began with a roughly 20min history of Medellin. Julio told us how a big alcohol tax led the entrepreneurial locals to find smuggling routes to bring it into Colombia and how coffee grew well in its fertile soil and was a major export that bolstered the economy. He talked about the rise of cocaine and Pablo Escobar--how he and those over 30 remembered the terror and the violence and danger, but that younger people thought he was good because he “gave houses to poor people.” He talked about how the metro system showed the people that things could be better, and Medellin started its resurrection. We saw the old train station, the main government offices, the plaza of light (which used to be a crime hotspot but is now beautiful, adjacent to a library and the center of education). We walked through El Hueco, taking in the vendors and street scene to a church, empanada (with orange juice), and the Botero museum and plaza. We learned of the Belgian architect who had left his project because of all the shit-talking of the local people; the Paisas said they would finish it themselves... and did so very abruptly without following his complex blueprints. At this point, 4 members of our tour got lost. We walked to the metro stop from whose stairway a grenade had been tossed into a crowd; Julio explained Colombians’ short term memory as a necessity of resilience--and that one grenade wasn’t so bad compared to the volcano that killed 20k the next day. We walked down Junin street (a popular date night spot) and to a plaza where Botero has two bird statues- one that was partially destroyed by dynamite detonated during a concert; the other new to represent triumphing over that evil. There were cool murals of African American faces--allegedly the first freed slave in Colombia who ran away and beat up everyone that came to catch him. This plaza--especially the birds--was really powerful. A strong symbol of all that Medellin went through and rose above. After the tour, we grabbed lunch in the palace in El Hueco (creamed corn soup, salad, pork, rice and juice for roughly $5). We took the metro home and did a Nike workout and I thought I would die. We showered, hung out, then went to El Chagra for a 6-course tasting menu (we actually went for a drink, but were surprised by and obligated to do the tasting). All the dishes were focused on Amazon themes and resources- specifically the giant fish, Arapaima. The first course was a smoking drink that tasted spicy and cinnamony--a bit like fireball. The second was a delicious soup that was creamy and cheesy with yucca crumbs. The third was a potato/fish ball eaten with our hands and dipped in a spicy fruit sauce. The fourth was fish and chaufa rice. The fifth was sausage with fruit preserves and cherry tomato. The sixth was dessert--a brownie-like thing and a fruity ice cream. The whole meal ran 300COP (with cocktails which had a dazzling presentation of liquid smoke and a sandbox.. and tip). Before the final course, a man dressed as an indigenous Amazonian came to our table chanting and we didn’t know what to do. He spoke some dialect and then Spanish and offered us to use his pastes to paint on ourselves. We respectfully declined and he moved on. We went to a restaurant down the street for a drink. Jarod got a shot of gin *sin huelo* loll. The restaurant was upscale with several birthdays happening. They gave us hand towels which they made expand amazingly by pouring hot water on them. We went home to bed.

3/12 MEDELLIN-->LIMA

3/12

We woke up around 730 and did a Nike work out at home. Jarod made breakfast of eggs and arepas, then our taxi came and took us to the airport. When we got there, we couldn’t check in at the kiosk--it said we were on standby. We waited in line and the woman seemed to have some issues, but eventually gave us our boarding passes. We got through security, grabbed El Pergamino coffee/chai, and waited at the gate. Jarod got us sandwiches, fruit, and a chocolate donut thing to eat. We were sitting apart during the 3h flight :(. I read the whole time. We were fed on the airplane and I ate the meal despite being full. We got through customs easily and got a taxi to our airbnb in Miraflores (45min away... And during rush hr). We got keys from our concierge and went out for dinner. We had to wait a bit, but the food was delicious. Jarod are a risotto in squids ink with seafood. I had a pumpkin soup with shrimp, corn, and yucca. I was so full afterward and felt kinda sick but not too bad. Being in Miraflores felt like being in Santa Monica--it was an upscale beachside community with a nice mall. We went to bed HOT and I woke up once with an upset stomach, though it wasn’t too bad.

3/13

7 YEARS!! We set alarms around 730am but didn’t get out of bed until 830 or so. We headed out for a work out- running through several beautiful green parks on the coastline, then plopping in the shade for a circuit. After the workout, we went to a beachside cafe and ordered a coffee and a nutella/banana crepe to share. We stopped at home, rinsed my sunscreeny body, then headed to the mall, Larcomar. We popped into a cafe for parfaits and quiche, then went to the bike rental stand upstairs and got two bikes for one hour. After we paid but before we left, the bike attendant crashed/fell off his bike nearby. The irony was overwhelming. We biked along the beautiful coast, to the Bridge of Sighs, then back up a city street of Barranco. The Barranco main square was beautiful, with statues and beautiful plants peppered throughout the plaza. We rode back, returned our bikes to the attendant who was squirting Purell on his scraped knee, and went home. We did laundry, showered, and got ready for our walking food tour. (Snacked on plaintain chips and beers from the market downstairs while we waited.) A driver with an unexplained passenger picked us up around 520pm. He was very kind and gave us two (hot) bottles of water. We drove through traffic into the historical center, where we met our guide Ximena. We walked to a churro place that had a long line, Ximena scurried to the front, then returned with two churros--one with caramel (apparently an ancient sweet in Lima) or a sweet cream. They were scalding hot. We took them to a nearby monastery, with a gated plaza full of pigeons. Ximena told us that the plaza used to be a common place to sell goods that the pigeons and vultures were brought by the Spanish, and that it was still an important place of worship although only 20ish ppl were a part of the monastery (friars?). We went inside and saw into catacombs full of skulls and big bones. There were no cemeteries, so if one had the money, one would pay to be buried in that sacred space. From there, we went to the center of literature (which used to be a big train station, but now only one train goes and it runs maybe 2x/month). Across the street was the oldest bar in Lima. We went in and ate ham sandwiches with onion (pan con chicharron con sarza) and purple juice (chicha morrada - corn juice with cloves and cinnamon). From there we walked to the main plaza. Xime told us about the history of the buildings--the bell towers of the old church had been destroyed by earthquakes and rebuilt... the (some politician’s) mansion had been burned down (by ppl who wanted to scare him, but accidentally destroyed it) and rebuilt. It was a beautiful square full of light and life. From there, we walked to a nearby coffee shop where we talked with the brewer of Peru Uno, Oliver. He let us taste two of his beers--a Belgian trippel and an homage to Peru with chamomile and other local herbs/spices. With the beer we had fried bites called tequenos. Oliver was half Peruvian and have Belgian and very focused on sustainable business practices. He was super friendly and cool. From there, we walked a way to find a stop full of people--vendors with their carts as well as big mats on the ground for gambling and big circles around storytellers or dancers. We are mazamorra morada with rice pudding and another sweet rice that was brown from the sweetener. We then had the healing herbal drink emoliente and anticuchos. At each vendor, xime explained the prep in depth, asking the vendor details in Spanish then relaying the answers to us in English. From there we walked to an old bar for “supte artists” where we had papas a la huancaina, yucca rellena (my fave), and chilcano de pisco. People around us were getting TURNT--an old asian man could barely walk, a guy and girl had 8 beers (large) between them, 3 men had 14, and a table of three had a whole fifth of pisco (45% alcohol). Quite full, we struggled through our food. I finished my share, but J did not finish his! We then met our ride (after Xima first approached the wrong car), dropped Xime off, and made it home. During the tour, Xime said the most protested issue in Peru was gender ideology. We went to bed around 11.

3/14

We woke up around 730. I was feeling sicker than I had, but we set off for a workout anyway. We ran for 20min and did a 30min Nike training. We were dripping with sweat. We then headed down our street for breakfast. Jarod’s came with papaya juice and coffee and he got a water--so much liquid to go with his double decker grilled cheese (basically lol). We walked to Kennedy Park which was beautiful with lots of flowers and cats. We went to a supermarket nearby and bought waters, nuts, plaintain chips, and yogurt. We walked back to our place and chilled for a while. We snacked on yogurt and plantain chips during the afternoon, showered, took a nap, and enjoyed the beautiful patio of our airbnb. We watched a little bit of Coach Carter hehe. Then around 6 we set off for dinner at the ancient ruins Huelca Pucllana. It was a long walk during rush hour, but we made it (slightly sweaty) and were seated immediately (in the room not immediately adjacent to the ruins). We got Topeka? Appetizer—4 from the menu for two people--some delicious bread, and our meals (salmon and risotto for me; tuna and veggies and rice for J). We had pisco sours which were strong and delicious. We admired the ruins for a few minutes before walking back down a central strip of park-like walkway. We made it to park Kennedy and stopped for picarones-fried pumpkin and sweet potato dough. I thought we would get one donut, but we got 6, drizzled in syrup. We carried these home, smacked on a few, and packed up. We went to bed by 10pm in prep for our early travel day the next morning.

3/15 LIMA-->CUSCO

3/15

We woke up around 430 and started getting ready. We snacked on leftover picarone and banana, then went to head downstairs at 515. We were stopped by the man next door (Gerard?) who said he owned the building and worked at Cheesecake Factory in gheridelli square in SF and owned a house in Oakland. We talked for a few minutes and gave him the key (a relief to me; I was worried the doorman might not be there for a hand off). The doorman was there and called a taxi for us--though it took a while, our driver spoke some English and warned us (in spanish) about being robbed at gunpoint in Cusco. I slept during some of the ride and was very groggy when we arrived. We got through security and onto our plane smoothly. I slept against the window the entire flight, but felt super weird--and anxious about altitude sickness--when we arrived. We got off and found our way to a crowd of desperate taxi drivers, all in our face asking if we wanted to ride with them. We said no gracias to them all, then realized we did need one. Jarod was haggling with one guy for a 15s ride but he wouldn’t budge; another driver jumped in and said he would take us for 15s. We rode through more modern Cusco into the more ancient part where we were staying. We arrived at our hostel around 10 and sipped coca tea in the lobby while they prepared our room for us. (Very early but convenient!) our room was beautiful and spacious Jarod lay on the alpaca blanket at the foot of our king bed so as not to get it dirty. We hung for a bit, then went down the street for lunch, back home for the bathroom, then out again to the main plaza. A very friendly man outside a different restaurant said “ah hello guys, we have been waiting for you come on in.” We told him we had already eaten and pressed onward, making our way through people pushing massages, trinkets, and art prints at us. The main plaza was beautiful. Green and surrounded by old churches and hills. We went around the shops at the edge--with lots of aggressive vendors and high end alpaca clothing shops. We stopped to buy sunglasses, then went to the Inka museum. We learned about the pre-inkan people who used basic tools and made basic ceramics and relied heavily on llamas and alpacas. The Incas themselves didn’t develop until ~1100 AD (news to me). They too made lots of ceramics and basic tools as well as little sculptures of animals and foods to sacrifice to the gods. The section on Spanish conquest was unclear because all the signs were in Spanish. It seems they put into power lots of Incan leaders who were pro-Spain and then screwed them over. When we were finishing up, it started pouring rain. We waited briefly for it to let up, then hurried home in the rain. We were struggling to breathe pretty often (>11k feet). At home, we got snuggly and took a nap. We found a dinner spot and went there around 5pm lol. Jarod ate alpaca for the first time. The place was empty and the chef was very sweet and cute and fed us aguaymanto which were delicious. The food was really excellent. We did have some comedy with the light above us--she turned it off to set the mood, then a young girl Came in later and turned it on above us without saying anything... we turned it back off, then the chef asked if we wanted it or not. On the way out, she asked for a tripadvisor review which i will happily write. We went to scope out prices of (fake) alpaca products and desserts. We went to a few stores and saw small “alpaca” blankets ranging from 40s--35s. We will go back to buy one or two before we leave. We bought a brownie and slice of chocolate cake nearby, then took it back to our room to feast on in our king bed. We watched some Simpsons in spanish, then read for a while. We went to go to sleep around 10, but I couldn’t sleep. Felt like I didn’t sleep all night--was up thinking. Maybe too much coca tea (inulin is stimulatory).

3/16

We woke to our alarms around 630, but didn’t get out of bed cuz I felt like I hadn’t slept. Finally got up around 9 and got breakfast at our hotel, which was delicious-especially the cornbread. We chilled in our room and prepped for the day, then ventured out. First, we went to San Pedro market. The streets outside were overflowing with vendors selling hard boiled quail eggs and slices of various fruits. Inside the main market place was literally everything. There was a hot food area, a line of juice vendors, butchers bakers, herb-sellers, woven goods vendors, and more. On the far side, we walked down a street lined with shops selling whole chickens (their naked bodies and weird feet displayed prominently). We then found a second, less touristy market place with more hot food, some dye stands, and even a haircut shop. We walked back and stopped for tamales, but didn’t have small enough bills so the woman sent us away. We found our way back to the plaza des armes and sat down for lunch--Jarod got pizza and I got chicken. From there, we started walking (steeply up) to Sacsayhuaman. We found a nice church with a fabulous viewpoint, then continued along the road to the main gate. There was a guard who said the ticket office was closed and we had to buy tickets in the plaza des armes. We were not motivated enough to walk there and back (still constantly out of breath from the altitude), and it was starting to sprinkle, so we headed home. We hung around home until we had to go to our pre-trek meeting. There were two people missing at the start--who came in 20minutes late absolutely breathless. The guide went over the plan for the next couple days. Everyone was young and seemed outdoorsy and ready. This trio of Australians had bought a lot of the recommended items on the packing list. I felt anxious and a little intimidated. We went to inkazuela for dinner, where we are delicious stews and fresh baked bread. A group of maybe 20 annoying Americans came and sat down and were so loud as we were paying. Embarrassing. We went home and packed and tried to go to bed early because we were waking up at 330 for a 4am pick up to start the drive to start the hike for Salkantay!!

3/17 BEGIN SALKANTAY 

3/17 - Day 1 Salkantay 

We woke up at 330, finalized our packing, and waited in the lobby briefly before our guide, Erick, arrived to pick us up on foot. He lived nearby our hotel in San Blas. We waited with him for the van, which didn’t seem to be where it was supposed to be. We got everyone picked up (including 3 bonus ppl who were doing a separate one-day trip. They were Thai but our guide Erick had told us they were Chinese lol.) We drove for about 2h on a windy bumpy road, I tried to sleep, but it was fitfull. When we stopped for breakfast I felt like actual shit and was worried I was getting altitude sickness. Jarod didn’t feel well either. I looked at the trekking route and realized we wouldn’t be much higher than Cusco, and this relieved me. We had a big breakfast (eggs, bread, fruit and yogurt, juice, coca tea), and sat by ourselves while the rest of the group bonded. We both started to feel better with the food and fresh air. We got back in the vans and drove another hour before getting off, sunscreening up, officially doing intros with our hiking group, and hitting the trail. Jarod and I were at the front with the other Americans, Chris and Alex from Buffalo, New York. The Australians, Emma, Ben, and Nick, were in the middle, with the Austrians, Anna and Patrick at the end. The start of the hike required some elevation climb, but then it evened out and we walked along an aqueduct in the mountainside for the majority of the trek. I accidentally called Emma Anna when asking her to take a photo. We made it to camp around 12? We were assigned Sky camps, which were tiny but beautiful glass comes with little twin beds in them after a 3-4ft doorway. I read and fell asleep for 7min before it was time for lunch). Lunch was a huge feast--the food was good but a bit cold. We then rested for half an hour and then hiked up to the lake. It was a relatively short hike, but quite steep. I was very out of breath, but led the charge alongside Chris. Anna and Patrick were lagging so far behind, Erick told us to go ahead and then wait at the half way point. Chris and Jarod and I led, waited for the group, then went on some more. The field we were walking through was full of cows and horses grazing, flanked by giant hills on either side. We walked up and over the top and found ourselves at a stunning blue lake. It was breathtaking, with streams from a snowy mountain running into an aquamarine reservoir. We took some photos, then climbed up a ridge along the side, from which we could see the lake as well as the grassy valley we came up through. It started to rain and we saw a beautiful rainbow in the valley but also needed to hurry back down. Everyone put on our ponchos and took a picture. I got my walking sticks for the way down, and they helped on the muddy parts but made me very slow. Jarod and I lagged behind the group as we all charged down the hill. We made it back, met as a team for tea time at 530, then dinner at 630. They had given us snacks, but we didn’t really need them because we were fed so often and so well. (I still ate my cookies earlier.. because they were delicious hehe). We got ready for bed after dinner around 8. I had a swig if Nick’s pisco before bed, then crawled into my sleeping bag and tried (but struggled) to sleep. I got up at 1am because Jarod was getting up. I hissed after him that I wanted to come to the bathroom, but he didn’t hear me. When I stepped outside, he was standing there. (He has walked toward the bathroom and been startled by a cow and come back loll). After that, I had a very hard time sleeping.

3/18 - Day 2 Salkantay

Started to climb, through some grassy fields, up the “Gringo killer” and to Salkantay summit, where it started raining. Emma had to breathe from an oxygen tank at the top (she had had severe altitude sickness in previous visits), and the Austrian couple took horses to the top to save their legs. On the far side of the summit, our trek got truly miserable. Steep decline. Soaked head to toe. I remember thinking, “Wow, we paid to do this.” We got to our midway lunch spot, where I tried to dry my socks, and we commiserated with our group. Thankfully, the rain let up, and the rest of the hike descended into warmer, more tropical forests. For tea time, they made us a freaking cake. We paid to use a shower and went into our little thatched-roof huts, a tiny space with one large bed. I had a dream that I had no feet (likely brought on by the extreme pain I felt in all of my joints!).

3/19 -  Day 3 Salkantay

Started the trek with Erick painting our faces with berries. By this time, felt VERY bonded with the group. The hiking this day was much tamer, flatter roads, less extreme climbs/drops, and a fun little cart that we rode across a river. We stopped by a coffee plantation and had lunch there. We took a van some stretch of the drive to end up at the trailhead to Machu Picchu. We went out with our group for dinner, and I felt excited but also sad to be so close to the end of our time with them. 

3/20 - Day 4 Salkantay (Machu Picchu!!)

Got up to start the trek to Machu Picchu around 5am(?). It was pitch black, and we CHARGED up the mountain, often annoyed that the people in front of us were not immediately letting us pass them. By the time we arrived at the gate, there were maybe 20 people in line, and we were drenched in sweat but also STOKED to be there. It was pretty chilly and very misty, so we had a few minutes of great visibility, but lots of fog other than that. Erick gave us a tour and some history, then (VERY SADLY) left us. Our group was a little devastated. We explored on our own a little, then headed back down as droves and droves of tourists poured in. We took a bus back and ate lunch (and many beers/pisco sours) at a small cafe while waiting for our train back. We eventually got on a train, which took us to a bus, which took us back to Cusco. We had booked a nicer room so that we could soak up the luxury after some very tough days on the trail. We met the Australians and the Austrians for drinks, and ended up staying up pretty late playing games and chatting with them in a Cusco bar.

3/21 CUSCO-->BOGOTA

3/21

We were awoken at 8 by a mysterious knock. I had some stomach trouble, then came back to bed. We got up at 845 to get breakfast. We ate the hotel breakfast, then went to our room to pack. I was feeling very sad to be leaving, nostalgic for our time on the trail. We packed, left our bags at the front, and went to go buy some “alpaca” blankets. We got two bracelets for J, three small paintings, and two alpaca blankets. The lady told us they were 50s even though we had been to the store before and been told 40, and had seen them elsewhere for 35. Jarod got her down to 40 and we left with them. By now I was hungry and emotional and tired, so I started to tear up over indecision with where to eat. We sat at a cafe and had 11s sandwiches. We went back to the hotel and had them call a cab. We arrived at the airport and checked in, then strangely waited in a room before being allowed through security (not many intl flights out of cusco... seems to require its own protocol). We made it to our gate and onto the plane. I was happy to be sitting next to Jarod (he was K and I was E... but for whatever reason those two are adjacent...) we had steak and vino tinto on the flight ;). We took a taxi home - a man lifted our bags into the trunk then asked for a tip. When we got there, our hosts were nowhere to be found and it was pouring rain. A property manager came out and started talking at us in Spanish very quickly--I think saying that our hosts hadn’t told her anything. She somewhat angrily escorted us outside, and I thought we were going to have to wait there. She then showed us how to work all the locks on the door, then let us inside. We got wine and cheese at the grocery store and snacked on those for dinner

3/22

We woke up around 8 with plans to eat breakfast at home then head to la candelaria for a bike tour at 1030. All appliances rebelled against us. The eggs stuck to the bottom of the pan, and the eggs that didn’t stick barely cooked. I tried to put laundry in but the timer never went down; it just perpetually washed. The toaster oven was a mystery of its own. Regardless, we eventually dined on eggs and arepas, and Jarod got the washer to switch to rinse then dry. We called an uber and got dropped off by the bike shop. We waited in a plaza and chatted with some other travelers. We embarked as a large group and found our way to a plaza with a statue of Simon Bolivar... talked about journalism... then split into two groups and departed. We biked to “the time square of Bogota” and talked about Germans convincing Colombians to drink beer instead of chicha... saw street art and discussed the battle between more/less formal forms... we biked through a neighborhood of mixed architecture and talked about the identity crisis in bogota... we rode to a park and snacked on fruits, then admired a giant map of bogota before riding past more street art (Jarod got a flat as usual), and to a big memorial for those killed in the civil war- tears streaming down the side of a building into a pool of water. We went to a coffee shop and talked some with our guide, Mateo. He talked about working in social services in London and suggested those services weren’t helpful. He showed impatience with others’ inability to learn english. We talked about the education system a bit then started our coffee tour. We biked down a more colorful street--with gov-commissioned art on all the walls. We rode through the red light district to a market for fruit tasting. We then ran across the street and learned how to play Tejo. It was really absurd and fun even though I was bad at it. Then we went back to the bike shop and paid. We got what was supposed to be a light lunch of ajiaco and a tamale to share - it was heavy. We walked to the main plaza and Gabriel Garcia Marques cultural center. We tried to stand outside our lunch spot to get WiFi to order an uber. Instead we went to a cafe and bought banana bread to get  their code. We went home, hung out, then headed to el chato for dinner. The host asked if we had a reservation, which we had a hard time understanding. Eventually we were sat at the bar. We got cocktails, the best order of chips and guacamole ever, lamb (Jarod), and fish with mushrooms (me). When we finished dinner, we went to the grocery store to buy more coconut cookies and then we headed home. We went to bed around 11.

3/23

We were slow to start in the morning. We made breakfast and did some research on Monserrate before calling an uber to go there. The uber got lost in a nearby national park and asked several ppl for directions but apparently few of them were helpful. We finally made it to the trail head and hiked the (very tough) ascent of 2000m. It took us about 50min; we arrived around 12. The view was beautiful but there were lots of ppl- even a mass going on. There were lots of stands for foods and trinkets. On the way down we got queso fresco con fruta. We then walked all the way home, zagging through la candelaria, stopping for bunuelos and empanadas, and then by the park for fruit and carrot cake. There were countless street vendors with hot dogs, coconuts, fruits, cell phone minutes, dried food, etc. We got home, napped and snacked, then showered. We went to Bogota Brewing Company around the corner. The waitress talked to us a lot very quickly and we were totally lost. She then brought us four drinks to try -- we were worried we needed to say something about them but didn’t even really know what they were. We ordered beers and a pizza and reflected on the trip and plans for going home. We went to the store for more coconut cookies, then home. We sat and ate for a little, then packed up and went to bed around 10.

3/24 BOGOTA-->SAN FRANCISCO

3/24

345am wake up - was awoken a little early by drunks in the street. Got ready and Jarod called an uber. Rode to the airport, got through immigration and security, wanted crepes and waffles but couldn’t find them. Had to go to the desk to check in (after hearing our names over the speaker). Alarms were going off while we waited... no one seemed to care.

[yrcurations]

What It Really Means To Be Gender-Fluid

By Brontë Sorotsky

There has been a lot of backlash surrounding a recent Vogue cover story and it’s attempt to represent gender-fluid identities. The article, “Gigi Hadid and Zayne Malik Are Part of a New Generation Embracing Gender Fluidity,”  tries to portray model, Gigi Hadid and former One Direction singer, Zayne Malik as “gender-fluid” after the couple revealed they enjoy borrowing each other’s clothes in an interview.

https://twitter.com/colettefahy_/status/885489299860459520?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw&ref_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.refinery29.com%2F2017%2F07%2F163251%2Fgigi-hadid-zayn-malik-vogue-gender-fluid-tweets

Gender fluidity is NOT a fashion statement or a trend, but Vogue seemed to diminish it to that.  According to CNN, gender fluidity is, “when gender expression shifts between masculine and feminine, can be displayed in how we dress, express and describe ourselves.” In other words,  it’s an identity.

The Vogue article discussed  the couple’s experiences with fashion and how gender doesn’t play a part in the way they choose to dress. While it’s great that they enjoy experimenting with fashion, this in no way makes them gender-fluid.   

The piece received a ton of resentment following its release. Many critiques of the article were that Vogue was trying to promote gender fluidity by using a straight cisgendered couple, and that if they wanted to represent this community, they should have featured people  that actually identify as gender-fluid or genderqueer. 

https://www.instagram.com/p/BVV0tuWAOI6/?taken-by=jacobtobia&hl=en

Jacob Tobia (pictured above), 25, is a genderqueer person that recently took a stance on the issue in an article they wrote for Cosmopolitan. I sat down with  Tobia to get a better understanding about what being gender-fluid really means...

Q&A

Brontë: How would you define being genderqueer?

Jacob: Being genderqueer, it’s about how you understand gender. Genderqueer people don’t identify as men or as women and identify outside of the traditional way that we’re taught to think about gender. Being genderqueer is about thinking and understanding gender as, not two distinct possibilities, but thousands of opportunities for self expression. I think that is something so important to emphasize, that it’s not like there’s one way to be genderqueer or gender- nonconforming, it’s about a philosophy and it's a self-identity. It’s about who you say you are and how you say you understand yourself to other people.

Bronte: Vogue tried to portray gender fluidity through fashion. I wanted to know if you think it can be expressed like that, or is it much more complex?

Jacob: The thing is that gender queerness and gender-nonconformity can absolutely be expressed through fashion. I think fashion is a key part of how genderqueer and gender-nonconforming people express ourselves, and the right to wear whatever feels good for us is super important. I think it gets a little dangerous when you talk about it like, “oh it’s this trendy thing.” The reason I don't like talking about genderqueer or gender-nonconforming identities as a trend is because trends come and go, and saying that something is a trend is kind of like saying it’s only temporary, like it’s shallow... Being genderqueer, being non-binary, or being gender-nonconforming, it’s not temporary. It’s not some new fad that a bunch of young people are making up, it’s a real part of the fabric of human gender, and it’s been around for centuries and centuries. I think that’s one of the main reasons I have trouble when people in the fashion community want to talk about, “oh this new gender-nonconforming trend”. Yes, there's more visibility for gender-nonconforming people and perhaps more acceptance for more genderqueer and non-binary folks, but it’s not a passing phase. It’s here to stay.

Brontë: What does it mean for a huge magazine like Vogue to put gender fluidity on the map so poorly?

Jacob: To me it’s not a question of intention, I think their intention was good. I think they were trying to do something progressive and forward thinking. I just think...sometimes your execution of an idea can miss the mark, even if your intentions were good. And one of the ways that you can tell Vogue’s intentions were good here, is that they made a public statement of apology afterwards. They said we sort of missed the mark here, and we’re sorry about that, and we’re gonna try and do better in the future. I think it’s really great they kind of admitted, “we didn’t quite hit this right” but then also in that same August issue there's actually a really beautiful article about how trans young people and their parents are navigating the myriad of challenges [related to]transition, puberty and gender at a young age. I don't think that anything about it was malicious, it came from not quite having a deep enough understanding, [and]  I think that’s something that they are now going to work to fix. They sort of learned the lesson in a very public way.

Brontë: Has Vogue commented on your article or reached out to you at all?

Jacob: Vogue has not commented on my article directly but I actually do have a meeting with some folks over at Vogue in a few weeks. I'm going to get a chance to talk to them about it and I’m really looking forward to a productive conversation and maybe some cool collaborations in the future where we can get some things right, but that’s obviously a ways away. So I actually have heard from them which is really cool. You don’t always get [a] response from people when you talk about what they can improve, so it was really cool to hear from the Vogue team and know that my writing and my perspective was having an impact. And to know that they’re open for further conversation, I think that’s really cool.

Brontë: How does being Gender Queer affect the clothing that you wear, or does it at all?

Jacob: I mean, it totally affects the clothing that I wear. Being gender queer isn’t just about your clothing, but, clothing is one of the main ways that we express our gender in the world around us. It’s certainly the most immediately visual way we represent our gender to the world around us, so clothing is something I think about pretty often. Mainly because, the thing about clothing is that it can be a real challenge. There are some days where putting on a skirt or putting on makeup feels like I’m just signing up to be harassed, stared at in public or have a slur thrown at me. Because the lived reality of walking around... as a gender-nonconforming person in the clothes that you want to wear is often not that pleasant. I’m really interested in challenging the fashion world to see that experience more holistically.  It’s really cool if male-bodied people can wear dresses on the runway, but what does it mean if they can’t walk off of that runway and go outside without being harassed or attacked? What does it mean about that fashion if you can have it in this super sanitized environment like a fashion show but you can’t have it in the real world without putting your safety or your emotional health at risk? For me clothing is a daily consideration. I used to feel like I had to dress fem every single day to prove who I am.  The older I get the more I’m like, “it’s okay to choose your battles.” It’s okay to have a day where you don’t want to deal with someone looking at [you]  the wrong way.  [Sometimes]  I just want to get some writing done at a coffee shop so I’m gonna wear pants and a T-shirt and call it a day. I used to struggle with that but I don’t feel like that’s me disowning my identity or being untrue to myself, that’s me getting by, that’s me surviving and saving my energy for bigger fights.

Brontë: What would you like to  tell people that identify as gender-fluid that don’t know how to express themselves because they’re afraid of backlash or people not understanding?

Jacob: The thing that I think is most important to emphasize particularly for young people who are exploring their gender and trying to figure out if they are non-binary or genderqueer...is just to be gentle with yourself. It takes time to figure out your identity, and I don’t mean  to say you don’t already know who you are, but it takes time to figure out how to put who you are into the world, and communicate who you are to other people. You don’t have to do it all at once, you don’t have to do it over night. You’ve got time, and it’s okay to take time and be gentle and kind with yourself while you engage in that process. Sometimes it might be hard and it’s okay to take a step back every now and then. You don’t have to always be taking a step forward. I think the narrative we have around coming out can be overly simplified--where you have to tell everybody in your whole world who you are right now or else you’re some kind of moral failure. Take time, be good to yourself and do what feels good. If coming out to the entire world right now is what feels good for you or expressing your gender as fabulously and incredibly as you can tomorrow is what feels good for you, go for it. But if you want to take baby steps that’s okay too boo.

[thesinglesjukebox]

JUSTIN BIEBER - YUMMY

[2.68]

Well, we thought about the Yummy, we said “Biebs, you’re fucking high...”

Alex Clifton: Why are straight boys like this? [2]

Leah Isobel: Justin Bieber's greatest strength as a vocalist is - was - playing very dumb phrases extremely straight, investing them with almost overflowing, doe-eyed emotion. This quality could turn a one-word chorus into poetry, or he could U-turn into knowing comedy when the phrases and ideas got dumb enough. On "Yummy," though, Bieber meets his match in a title phrase that's too winkingly juvenile even for his reformed child-star tenor. More than that, he sounds tired, like he doesn't even want to be playing this game anymore - his high notes have turned nasal and yelpy, his low register more empty air than resonance. I can imagine the Bieber of "Boyfriend" or "Beauty and a Beat" really feasting on this track, but 2020 Bieber needs more than vapid concepts to regurgitate on a semi-trendy beat. Those doe eyes have turned dead. [2]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: This would be a generous [6] if it were 2013 and this was one of the lesser tracks on Journals. More than six years later, and "Yummy" just sounds like... nothing? People complained that Ciara singing "yummy" was a mistake, but Bieber does something infinitely worse: he makes it devoid of any and all feeling. [3]

Ashley Bardhan: What can I say when Justin already said it all himself -- "you got the yum, yum-yum"? This song sounds like it would be Noah Centineo's ringtone. [1]

Thomas Inskeep: "Yeah, you got that yummy-yum" -- is Bieber trying to sound like an idiot? Because guess what, he succeeds. The production's generic pop-trap, and the lyrics are moronic beyond measure. About as yummy as food left in a dumpster at the height of summer for a week. [1]

Brad Shoup: Yummy is a fine word, acceptable even: couples are (or usually are) goofy. Things like yummy tend to slip out. It's the shiver he puts into the line "never runnin' low on supplies" that truly haunts. Wild how a couple years ago, the vocal manipulation would be front and center. Now, the up- and down-pitched yummies are practically invisible. Maybe by 2021 they'll be gone. [3]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Justin Bieber choruses work best when framed around a question: "What do you mean?" "Is it too late now to say sorry?" "Can we still be friends?" "Can we keep each other company?" "Where are yoü now?" See, Justin has never been the sexiest or suavest pop star in the world, but these big, pontificating questions sound nice. Fill in the blank answer with whatever you want; Justin is just the handsome chauffeur taking you to your destination. It becomes a problem, then, when he's asked to sell something more direct; he just sounds silly and unconvincing. "Yeah, you got that yummy-yum, that yummy-yum, that yummy-yummy" is already a weak chorus to begin with, something even a Bruno Mars, Childish Gambino or Drake would have difficulty pulling off. Here, we have Bieber: selling this positive statement with the enthusiasm of someone politely pretending to like something they don't. [3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The beat of "Yummy" sounds like a horny remix of the Wii Shop theme. It is by a wide margin the best part of the song. [2]

Alfred Soto: As abstracted a signifier of post-adolescent yearning as Bryan Ferry is a holy spirit of divine melancholy, Justin Bieber could be Swae Lee or Arthur Lee. He chirps over this here trap beat because he can't chew on it -- where are the yums? I smiled only at the line about walking in house slippers. [3]

Nortey Dowuona: The problem with Justin Bieber is that he's not interesting enough to really write about, musically, gossipcally or at all. The smooth, loping bass with sweeping, swallago synths and dispassionate synth progressions or the dull, flat drums are too interesting for Bieber to dully fumble over while not being able to play around with his limited range in the slightest the way a Frank Ocean or a Dappy or even a YBN Cordae could. At least it's short. [5]

Ian Mathers: Every day Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping inches closer to being a documentary. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: OK, but I can go listen to Usher's "Lemme See," Chromatics' "Lady" and Ciara's "Dance Like We're Making Love" and get the same nocturnal streetlights-on-rain mood without also hearing Justin Bieber sing "yummy." [3]

Scott Mildenhall: Whether or not this is a song whose authors think is commercially astute, it is fantastically stupid in a way that seems too witless to have been so engineered. It was awkward enough when Harry Styles pressed the "belly" button, but to hang a whole song on the word "yummy" is both comical and, to extend the juvenilia further, icky. Though perhaps this is a path to follow. Bieber will already have fans who weren't born before "One Time" (or were babies as of "Baby"), so why not go an eenie meenie bit further and make the video a toy unboxing? Children are the future! [4]

Will Adams: Somehow less convincing and more juvenile/slightly creepy than when Bieber called his girl an "eenie meenie miney mo lover" ten years ago. [3]

Oliver Maier: Justin Bieber spent his teens trying to sound grown-up, then spent his early 20s trying to sound like a teenager. Purpose's singles posited him as a golden-hearted hottie grappling with adolescent naivety, who hurts your feelings or doesn't quite get it but is still trying, dangit. There was naturally a manipulative subtext to that cluelessness, but for whatever reason -- maybe that tension is interesting, maybe the songs were just catchy -- he remained compelling, and still felt out of our league. These days, I guess he's content to sound like nothing whatsoever. "Yummy" surrenders a few too many brain cells both in composition (this doesn't sound like a song anybody cared about writing) and execution (Justin Bieber sounds like the most tediously simpering man on the planet). There are shadows of good melodies here and there, if you're feeling generous, but it is simply too half-formed, and so cutesy and content that it nukes Bieber's sensuality altogether. I can't decide whether to cringe or take a nap. [3]

Will Rivitz: Three points to this as a conceptual exercise -- I didn't think it possible to sanitize "Hotline Bling" even more than the original. That's all it gets. [3]

Kylo Nocom: Awful metaphors and unsexy sex talk as bait for detractors to publicly (and correctly) declare awful. It's the same strategy as "Earth" and as the bizarre lead singles of other stars' comebacks: get the fans liking it, and the haters furious at how stupid it is. What "Yummy" does have is plenty of melodic tricks, and a beat like this would've popped off in 2016. Yet giving this any credit feels like rewarding a transparent cash-in when he's had far more attractive come-ons. [4]

Kayla Beardslee: Obviously "Yummy" isn't good. Obviously I was never personally going to like it. Obviously we as a collective are going to hate it. But what am I actually supposed to do with it? The Justin Bieber hate train has whirred back into full force -- the video is 15% disliked, and articles (plus offhand internet comments) criticizing him, the rollout, and the music are already being pumped out. He took over four years to come back after Purpose, but has been dropping a steady stream of features in the interim: Bieber has simultaneously faded from the public eye as a solo artist and overexposed himself as an inconsistent, practically anonymous guest feature. There's no hype for his return, except among diehard fans who would assemble no matter the timing or quality. It feels like being force fed. And yet, although "Yummy" is a joyless combination of beige and sleaze, I'm still hesitant to gleefully condemn it. As a song, sure, it's unpleasant and Purpose-less and not what he needed to kick off a successful era. But, let's be real, "Yummy" is such a nothing that trashing of the music can easily transfer onto Bieber himself, and so much of the hate is not (for lack of a better term) in good faith. If you're going to criticize Bieber, call him out for things like idolizing Chris Brown and patronizing Hillsong (deciding whether the latter is actually bad is complicated, but it's certainly been a topic of conversation around him). But how many people in a social media crowd are going to provide balanced criticisms of difficult topics like these? Bieber's music has been marketed toward teen girls, he has a pretty voice that some might judge as feminine, he just dyed his hair pink, he's making trendy pop and chasing traditional masculine and commercial markers of success: these are all fodder for cheap shots and knee-jerk hate across a variety of communities. I've seen people (a friend, a relative) react to mentions of Justin Bieber with mild disgust -- literally just his name is a repellent. Of course, Bieber carries himself with a cocky attitude that's easy to hate (probably what happens when you're forced into the ridiculous freedom and unique restrictions of celebrity when you're a naive teenager). Of course, he's built a reputation for acting like a terrible person many times in the past. Of course, Bieber is a straight white man who has a layer of security against harassment that artists like, for example, Lizzo don't have. And yet I constantly remember that Bieber has spoken out about battling depression, and I feel uncomfortable joining the pile-on. And really, what is there to enjoy about trashing him or "Yummy"? The track is bland and unambitious, except for when it's actively repelling ("get litty, babe"; the entire fucking premise of "yummy"). Bieber doesn't even sound like he cares. At first, I thought his team must have chosen a song named "Yummy" as a lead single for the same reason scammers still send Nigerian prince emails: immediately weed out the people who have no patience for it, and focus instead on reaching the sympathetic (his fanbase) and the oblivious (the general public bogeyman that passively consumes hits through playlists). And then I learned that the bridge namedrops Bieber's own house slipper brand, in a dumb, out of touch move that only a rich celebrity would approve of. That single moment makes me think his team is, in fact, desperate enough to coast on soulless music and hope to profit off Bieber's previous reputation and work alone. We're all just tired, aren't we? [1]

Jibril Yassin: Justin Bieber, a generational vocal talent, is trying to channel Post Malone here and all that comes to mind is a xerox of the Spider-Man pointing at Spider-Man meme. Can we get Usher to come back and fix this? [1]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]