Thursday, February 01, 2007

The "Best Chest" Contest

It was several years ago. Exactly what year I can’t truly recall. But it happened at Woody’s, a popular gay bar in Toronto. (Parts of "Queer as Folk" were filmed there.)

My day had actually begun many hours before. I had a late night flight from Chicago to Sacramento. Upon arrival, I had time to check in at the hotel, get a couple hours of sleep and then head to the home office. I spent most of the day learning about the newest products from the company that employed me. Then it was a race to the airport to catch an overnight flight to Toronto to present information on those same products to our Canadian distributor. Because of the time change, I didn’t have time to shower or even check into the hotel. Fortunately, my presentation was only scheduled for the morning hours. It was quite a chore to present information that I had only seen for the first time just a few hours earlier. Every time someone would ask a question about the new products, 99% of the time my answer would be, “let me get back to you.” I managed to escape by noon, grab a quick bite of lunch, and go check in at the hotel. This was around 3pm. I showered and lay down for a quick nap. By 4pm, I was awake and ready to reward myself with a happy hour drink or two. My flight back to the Midwest wasn’t until noon the next day. I was in no hurry.

Happy hour found me on Church Street, a street that is host to many businesses catering to the gay and lesbian community in Toronto. I poked around in a couple of shoppes and finally found myself on a barstool at Woody’s. At 5pm, there were maybe 3 people in the bar. I sat in the very back of the bar, reading a newspaper and enjoying a Labatt Blue—Canadian Beer. I had some Loonies and Twonies from prior trips. What better way to spend them?

Soon after I arrived, a fellow came in the bar and sat right next to me. He looked like he just walked out of a magazine. He was hot. Around 6'1", 200 perfectly-proportioned pounds, wavy dark hair, and a sculpted jawline on a beautiful face. And he struck up a conversation with me. His name was William. And he was at Woody’s to compete in the “Best Chest” contest. This was his way to celebrate his 21st birthday. (Lest I be accused of being a cradle robber, remember that I was in my mid-20s myself.) After he told me that, I did what a gentleman should do in this situation: I bought him a shot. He thanked me and we continued to talk. He lived north of Toronto. He was single. (Did I also say he was hot?) The happy hour stretched into evening as we talked and just enjoyed each other’s company. Finally, the “best chest” contest began in all its glory.

William certainly had the “best chest.” However, he was not the winner. He came in 2nd. That’s what happens when a contest’s winner is determined by audience applause and the winner brings his own fan club. Them’s the breaks.

As a consolation, I offered to buy William another shot. He accepted. Neither of us really wanted to hang around Woody’s any more that evening. So we departed to another watering hole just a few doors away from Woody’s. William began paying me an amount of attention that surprised me. (He liked me, he really liked me!) Too bad he lived in a foreign country—and near a city that was miles and miles from where I lived.

After finishing our “happy hour,” which by then had gone until 10:30pm, William began lamenting about his train ride home. “Do you really have to go?” I asked. He replied, “well, I suppose so, since I have no place to sleep here in Toronto.”

I couldn’t let this young man get on train and navigate his way home knowing that he was quite intoxicated. That would be irresponsible. So I once again extended my hand of friendship. “William, I invite you to stay in my hotel room tonight. You can leave tomorrow morning when I leave for the airport.” He accepted and we began making our way to Bloor Street.

A gentleman does not “kiss and tell,” so I won’t reveal any more about our time together. I will say only that, in more ways than one, I was glad that William accepted my invitation. And no one is too smart to keep them from learning things from someone younger.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home