I sat in my car watching the workers from the supermarket start to slowly trickle out. It had always been a weird location for a grocery store, never mind one that specialized in Asian goods. Yet there it was, plopped down in the middle of a desolate portland on the edge of the city - always teeming with people coming and going, yet still pretty lonesome. The area had a brilliant view of the skyline, and there were surrounding vantage points where photographers tended to park themselves for long exposures late at night. It was a beautiful, lonely place where concrete and dirt roads mingled with offseason boat storage. It didn't stand out, but it also didn't fit in.
I had been giving my parents a simple explanation for awhile now, to take the family car and pick up my grandmother all her favourite treats, and spices at the store. I had always chosen to go just before closing time, just so I could be there after dark when no one else was around.
My name is Ken. I'm a college student, I am a Chinese-Christian, and I have liked men for years.
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As a shy teenager, I'd always found myself in groups of other asian kids at school, but quietly at the fringe. I had entertained crushes on a girl or two, because whenever the guys would be away from the girls, there seemed to be this implication that everyone was going to eventually pair off. Oh, not for sex - we were all too young and stupid I suppose, everyone still pretty much chaste and unsure how to navigate their Christian upbringing. I imagine we were all raised, not just along rules of the church, but in a strict belief about doing what is right, and proper, and to never disrespect your parents.
I was starting to have a tougher time about that though, because I realized before my first college class, that I was fascinated with looking at naked guys. I would try to avoid gawking at the array of penises in change rooms, all the different types and sizes, all the different kinds of public hair and armpit hair and chest hair we all sported. I remember feeling ashamed about my uncut penis and how odd it looked compared to the long shafts and bulbous heads I'd see wagging about whenever guys started roughhousing around in the showers. Despite my fascination though, I was still in the belief that I was entirely straight, that I would meet the right asian girl to make my parents happy, and raise a family after college. I told myself that I was drawn to naked guys because I was jealous about not being muscular and toned and manly, kind of a wishful thinking daydream in a way.
Over time I found myself thinking more about penises when I masturbated, and one night, found myself jerking off in the bathroom to one of my sisters 'Heartthrob' magazines. I felt joyous until the guilt sank in, but it was always short lived until I locked the bathroom door the next day and started up again.
Working things out for myself, without a soul to talk to, I took to the internet, like I suppose we all did. For me though, all of this happened before the age of smartphones and apps, and my only outlet to the 'world wide web' was the family computer in the basement.
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Chat rooms were the only archaic means of talking with other gay kids back in the day, there were the quiet beginnings of stuff like ICQ, and MSN Messenger, but it often required software installations that would have made my parents suspicious. Reaching out the first week was like an explosion! In the first few minutes of logging on, I was inundated with all sorts of crazy offers and pick-ups, and it was all just a big huge joke that energized me, and admittedly made me horny. Eventually though, the same types of messages and comments about not liking asian guys, or fetishizing them made me sad. I remember one night, I risked getting caught when I pulled my hard penis out of my shorts and tried to figure out if it was small. I remember actually taking a ruler off the desk and putting it beside my dick to count of the 7" I presumed was average at the time. I also remember feeling horrible about doing that, and sneaking the ruler into the bathroom to wash with soap and water, lest someone else use it after me.
In time though, I started having real conversations with people, including people in my city, my own age and I started making - friends I guess. They felt like real friends anyhow. I was addicted to logging online after everyone had gone to bed and pouring out my heart and soul to these Avatars, who returned the favour. The friend that was most important to me was went by the handle 'Beau'.
'Beau' didn't feel safe using his real name, but he was slightly older than me - about to finish university, and Japanese. He was still very much in the closet, but had at least had some experience fooling around with a couple other guys. He had an old picture that he sent me that showed him being tall and slender, with a nice face, and a perfectly kept head of hair. He was gorgeous to me, both masculine and feminine, and he really seemed to care about me. We talked for a couple weeks before he had suggested that we meet in real life.
I could barely contain myself over the next few days as I tried to scheme my way to a meet up with this wonderful boy who had connected with me. I wondered if we would kiss, or touch each other, would we have sex, did I know what to do, did I need condoms? And of course, how would I get out of the house, and where would we go?
It finally clicked in my head though, when my mother had asked me one night, to pick my grandmother up some cakes she needed for a lunch with friends the next day.
I was granted the rare privilege of taking the family car and heading out to the Asian supermarket out by the port. The parking lot had been pretty jammed when i got there, and I ended up with a spot at the opposite end of the entrance. By the time I had meandered about, done the shopping and checked out, most of the cars were gone, and I had realized just how secluded my car was at that point.
