Sweet Sixteen

Davey, Franco and Me, 2002

Yesterday was Davey and my anniversary. We met 16 years ago in Guerneville California, in a now-defunct resort called Fifes. It was the July 4th holiday weekend and the place was packed with hot guys. He was at the bar above the pool ordering a beer and I ordered a couple bottles of water. I asked him what everyone asks him: "What is your tattoo?" No doubt he forgot all about me and I didn't see him again that weekend.

Instead, about a week later, I saw him working out at the also-now-defunct Market Street Gym (now Gold's Gym in the Castro). I was shy because he was so hot -- working out with no shirt on, if I recall correctly -- but approached him anyway, "You don't remember me, but we met last week..." I asked him to dinner that Saturday, and we've been together pretty much ever since.

That was 1996, and I was 28 he was 31. Now its 16 years later! Time flies, so make sure you've made the right decisions. Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero. I love you Davey!

Your, Bear.