The Surreal Life (pt. 1)

Click to LISTEN to this post

cast of season 5 of Surreal Life

I love reality shows. I've often mentioned Project Runway, America's Next Top Model, and the amazing Amazing Race (whose 9th season debuts this week). For some reason I can't seem to get enough.

"Real people" going through extraordinary situations always seems to open my eyes to my own life for some reason. Or maybe I'm just a big old voyeur (I doubt it).

But one of the shows that I never really cared for too much was The Surreal Life--a pseudo-reality show that puts about 7 celebrities (usually former "where are they now" stars and current D-List personalities) in a house for two weeks. And then we watch the has beens and wanna be's vie for America's attention.

Sometimes it's like watching a train wreck. I've never really cared for the show. And after my own recent Surreal Life experience, I think I know why.

While it feels like a month, today is day 8 of my sexual fast. That's right--over a week with no orgasm or ejaculation. No I am not getting ready for lent or any other holiday of restriction. I have been in a sexual doldrums of sorts lately.

But I would prefer doldrums to the twilight zone that I stepped into last night. I was online, looking for someone to share my week's worth of pent-up sexual frustration. There was nothing but not-so-cute people and game players sending thousands of messages like, What do you want to do? (After I've clearly stated my interests) and the repeated, So what's up?

I was just about to sign off when I saw a guy who had expressed interest in having sex with me in the past. He wasn't really my type, but I thought it might be fun. So I hit him up and asked him if he wanted to get fucked. He said he was not only game, but that he was having a party with him and his boy. He then listed the screennames of some of the people who were showing up, and my eyes got wide. One of the guys was a southside hustler that I had been wanting to kick it with for about six months.

I got his number and address and told him that I would be there in a few minutes. I washed my ass and I "rode" up to their place in my car in the next 40 minutes. This was a pretty nice middle class black street. Neighborhood was in revitalization. Their home was newly built.

I called on my cell phone to let them know I had arrived and one of the lovers came to the door to let me in. He wasn't the cutest thing in the world. Lanky and wirey, wearing a thong or a jock strap--or some type of underwear that exposed his ass. But he had a pleasant smile, and the interior of their place was pretty banging. Clean, nicely decorated, and fresh.

He was also very nice. I clocked his age to be in his late thirties or early forties. Come inside, he said, let me take your coat. Do you want something to drink?

Very hospitable.

The action is going on downstairs, he said. And he pointed to a door that led to the basement.

I let him go first and then I followed. I wasn't about to be cornered. On our way down the steps he asked me, Do you like to party?

Of course I do, I said smiling. But I thought it was a bit of an odd question. Why would he ask me that and I had showed up for a sex party? I thought it might be wise for me to ask what exactly he meant by party--I didn't want him to think I was ready to get my dance on.

Wait a sec, I said, What do you mean by party?

Do you like to use drugs? he replied.

Uh oh. I thought. This was that kind of party. No, I don't, I said--wishing that he would have told me this before I took the long trek.

That's ok, he said, About half the people do and half the people don't. I believe this is the only lie he told me the entire evening.

I got downstairs and there were about seven people sprawled around sofa's and cushions--butt ass naked. Facing them was a huge screen television playing silent pornography. Hey everybody, this is Michael, said the host, as he introduced me by my fake name. Michael, you probably already know some of the people here, he added.

Why would he assume that I know some of the guys who were there? He didn't know me like that, I thought. I quickly realized what he meant.

It took me a few seconds for my eyes to focus in the dimly lit space. And when I did, I noticed that I knew about half the guys.

I had seen these faces before. Not because I had sex with these men. Not because I had met them before. But because I had seen them on television--on my DVD player to be precise.

They were porn stars. Some of the chocolate slim brothers from the Coco Dorm series. And the shit that followed was absolutely surreal.

Comments

[Linear Jones]

I'm assuming you don't partake of much action given that this tale is a flashback to your 7th night of nonrelease. Still, grand cliffhanger.

[Quentin Ergane]

OHMIGOD!!!

I have only met one porn star and I think he was interested in me, but I was cock-blocked. *grins*

Oh SHIT! Link us up with some PICTURES ok?!

(I ain't mad at you!)

[Huff]

Well, you certainly had an interesting weekend. I hope this experience hasn't left you too screwed up. The title of this post fits perfectly. I can defintely see how being in a room with naked porn stars would be surreal, LOL.

[Boogie]

I know you didn't leave us hanging like this lol.