Strawberries in New York

I visited New York for the first time last week. It’s been a priority destination for a long time now and it lives fully up to its standards. It’s cliche but really a city that never sleeps.

Despite having a few friends in the Big Apple, I chose to stay in a hostel because I wanted to meet people and make friends, and maybe just maybe find someone. I met millennials from all walks of life – a 19-year old liberal white Calgarian boy, a 27-year old Danish woman who had proper Danish sensibility but also a compass for fun… and also a 26 year old tall and lanky Asian hipster with a manbun who hailed from a nearby suburb of Toronto. We chatted and had good talks for a good portion of the night, about being introverts but taking chances, our careers in a somewhat similar industry. He’d taught himself how to code and was doing a bit of real estate appraisal on the side. This was interesting to me and my career path.

He was very curious about me the whole night and we ended up somewhat separate from the other hostel-goers at the bar. As we talked, my gut feeling was that he mistook my interest in him (as a fellow human being) as a romantic interest… and he decided based on that to reciprocate it. I didn’t want to be assumptuous, but took advantage of when he asked “So what do I need to know about you?”

I knew immediately what I was going to say but hesitated. Fuck it. “Well first, I’m gay.” and followed with two points. I passed the ball to him.

He was speechless for a good couple of seconds before he started. His second point was that “He was heartbroken”.

Oy vey.

We talked more about ourselves and at various times for some inexplicable reason, I felt compelled to prove to him my gayness (i.e. by pointing out a lesbian hitting on a girl… to prove my gaydar…? I don’t know). He brought up The Cube test (I fully acknowledge the name of that site, but I had already disclosed my sexuality to him so… disregard). When I told him I already knew it, he offered up the Strawberry test, which I hadn’t come across before. The premise is, you’re hungry and you come across a strawberry field and between you and the field is a fence.

“What does the fence between you and the strawberry field look like?”
It’s a typical chain fence. Not super high. I can climb it easily if I tried. (I tried getting ahead of the game and interpreted this to symbolize goals).

“How many strawberries do you take?”
Just a few. I can’t fill up on strawberries, that’s gross.

“Describe the strawberry”
It’s small, sweet. Organic. Soft.

“You discover the field belongs to a farmer who has to pay taxes. How do you feel for taking his strawberries?”
I feel badly but I only took a few. Ah he’ll survive.

Interpret as you will, the link helps (but if you want to take it, don’t read the answers just yet). <spoilers> He did say that my describing the fence as being a typical chain fence represented something institutional between myself an my kinkiness (link offers a different version where represents ‘how easy’ it is to get someone in bed), which I found interesting.

The strawberry(ies) describe your love life and ideal lover. The farmer scenario represents how you feel about cheating.

</spoilers>.

We got home around 3:30am because the seemingly perfect subway system stops pretending after midnight. As the elevator door closed, I told him to add me on Facebook (he asked to keep in touch and for my number earlier on).

I haven’t seen him since. But we’ve been chatting on Whatsapp a considerable amount and we got to talking about ourselves at a very personal level very quickly. I’m a little startled (but guarded) about how quickly our walls came down. He’s a great guy – but greater still is that he wants to introduce me to a lesbian friend of his, who’s part of his “crew 2.0” and see if I can tell she’s gay. (…Please.)

 

note: I realized this past weekend that I think writers are really attractive. I didn’t even meet any writers. But yeah. End note. 

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