Walking and Stalking

When Shurl and I first started Gabby Gays, our mission was to create a blog with stories of love, politics, culture and stalking hot guys on the street. After the blog took off and began to get up to 10 hits a month, the fame got the better part of us and we forgot our mission. Shurl had a drinking and drug problem but we won’t talk about that. Don’t even get me started on that whore Diane Prince. Anyway, it’s a new year and I’m in a new city so I decided to look at our roots and stalk someone.

It happened when I went to the Geneva airport to report some damaged goods. I had no intentions of stalking anyone that day. It just happened. Kind of like when you end up at one of those bars on Christopher street. You never have any intentions of going there but sometimes after a few drinks, some pot, cocaine, and an enema, you just end up there.

So I was on the train on my way back to Lausanne, where I reside, when I saw him; the man I would stalk. He was passing his hand through his dark, thick, curly hair. It was the kind of hair you read about in romance novels or see on the cover of Honcho. And by hair, I mean the one on his torso. You see, he was slouched in a seat on the train so his shirt was lifted up a little and I could see his flat stomach. He had his finger in his belly button and I wondered if it was Swiss code for, “Meet me in the bathroom because I want to penetrate you.” He also had thick, dark hair on top of his head and reminded me of a young Antonio Saboto Jr. Not really but I wanted an excuse to post a picture of Antonio Saboto Jr. because Shirl says I need more pictures.

When the train approached Geneva, he sat up and walked to the exit. I hadn’t planned on stopping in Geneva but I thought, “It’s time I sacrifice myself for the good of Gabby Gays.”

I followed him out of the train station towards the lake. When he began walking across, I wondered, “Should I really follow him across the lake? What if he has a group of friends on the other side, waiting to gang rape me?”

When I thought about this danger, I knew what I had to do. So I followed him across the lake onto a main shopping street. He went into a pharmacy as I pretended to look at a window display of Swiss Army watches. I’d hoped he was buying lube and condoms, but he didn’t walk out with a package.

I continued to follow him into this department store called Globus. I was carrying a guitar so I was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible by not following too close. When he took the escalator up to the second floor, I let him get about 3/4's up before I jumped on myself.

When I got to the second floor, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I panicked and ran around the floor looking for a man the way everyone does when the lights go on at closing time at The Cock. I didn’t see him anywhere, which is kind of a relief because the floor was filled with ladies lingerie and smart business suits. This is when the detective in me said, “Maybe he went up to the men’s floor.”

I went up two more flights to the men’s department where my little man was skimming the packages of no-name underwear. I saddled up a few displays from him. He looked at me for a couple of seconds while I pretended to be reading the back of a 2Xist package. Since I knew that he saw me, I decided to walk to the robe and pajama section so I could stare at him unseen and maybe even get a picture.

While in the robe department, I became engrossed in a pair of cashmere slippers which I decided I had to try on. So I bent down to untie my shoe and stood back up to grab the slippers. This is when I noticed that my man was looking around nervously. I bent down again to ensure that he couldn’t see me and watched him slip a pair of no-named underwear in his coat. I’m not sure if it bothered me that he was shoplifting or that he wore no-name briefs. Regardless, I bent back down and tied my shoe because I had the feeling he would be making a quick getaway.

Once again my detective radar was right and he headed towards the down elevator. I waited a few seconds to give him a head start because I didn’t want him to think I was store security. When I headed to the escalator, a woman with a baby carriage slipped in front of me. She blocked the escalator so I couldn’t run down to catch up with the guy. When I finally got to the first floor, he was no where in sight. I ran out on the dark, Geneva street, where crowds of people walked around with briefcases, bags of groceries and bottles of wine. And amongst them all, somewhere, was my name with a pair of no-named underwear stashed in his coat. I’ll never know his story or how he looked in those underwear but at least I’ll have an image to masturbate to for the next week. So I encourage the five people that read this blog to spice up their lives and follow someone.

Lavurn