That night in Amsterdam

Kaliningrad, 2007

Ham and mushrooms on a thick pizza pie was my favorite to order at Godfather, a local chain of Italian restaurants with 3 or 4 locations around the city.  Vika and I came here after classes almost every day. We could sit on those pretty art deco velvet chairs and sip on our 75 ruble lattes for hours, imagining we were living it up in Paris or New York.
 
“It's so much fun being the only girl on the team! I can't wait for you to meet them. They are so funny and cool!”
Vika had just got on the sketch comedy team of our University, and of course being a linguistics major she hadn't seen more than two guys in the same room in awhile, so needless to say she was very pleased.
“That's so so cool! Anyone cute? I mean I know you've shown some photos but…” “Are you kidding! They are super cute! Totally drowning in girls' attention”

She pulled out her pink flip phone and showed me another picture of the team from the most recent performance.  It very well could have been the flip phone's fault, but those people looked like they had drowned a long time ago and girls' attention had nothing to do with it. But then again, what did I know.  An 18 year old virgin who've never even kissed a guy hardly gets to be the judge of male beauty. So I decided to play it safe and started admiring the photo immediately.
 
“Oh wow! You guys look so…”
“Aaaa! I can't believe it!”

Vika even in her calm state was louder than most, let alone when she got excited about something. She was looking in the direction of the entrance and wiggling in her chair as if she  just grew a tail. I turned back and there they were - two guys I've never seen before waving at us.

“Hey guys!”
 
As they approached our table Vika stood up and gave them both a very enthusiastic hug.

“Hey, beautiful!” said the slightly shorter one.
They weren't very tall, in fact the taller one was about my height. Both were rather skinny and a little feminine.

“Meet my friend Alisa! Alisa this is Zhenia,” she pointed at the shorter one,”He is on my team. And this is his friend.”

His friend made a gesture inviting me to shake hands. I responded. As he was friendly squeezing my hand, his dark brown eyes were piercing me right through.

“Hi, Alisa. My name is also Zhenia but people call me Benya. Very nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

I felt a wave of warmth in my pelvic area. I was attracted to him: his big Jewish nose, curly dark brown hair, and a strange girly shirt with floral patterns.  After a couple of minutes of small talk they were gone. And so was I.

“So? Cute, right?! Scratch is super funny too! Oh, everyone on my team calls him Scratch. The other day at the rehearsal he did-”
“Are they both on your team?” “No, just Scratch. Benya is sort of his best friend. They are inseparable! By the way Scratch goes both ways.”
Vika swallowed a smile and raised her eyebrows waiting for my reaction. 

“What do you mean?” 

I genuinely didn't know what she was trying to say.
“He's bi!”

“What. I'm not sure …”

“Oh Alisa! He has sex with girls and guys!”

“What? Yeah, right. Are you serious?!”

For the record, by that point in my life I had never knowingly met anyone gay or bisexual in person. Of course I've heard about the phenomenon, but it seemed so far away almost like a myth that existed exclusively in American movies. 

“I know! Crazy, right?”
Vika had that proud look on her face like people do when they tell you something scandalous and you give them the exact reaction they were hoping for. 

“What about Benya? Is he too?”
 
“No, I don't think so. Wait. Why?” 

Her little mouth took a shape of a cheeky smirk.

“Just curious,” 
I responded smirking back at her.

“No way! You like him! This is great! We should set you guys up!” 

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? I mean, do you think he'd be interested?”

“Well we won't know until we ask.” 

She flipped open her pink phone and started texting away.
 
Vika was coming to pick me up in 20 minutes and I was nowhere near being ready. All of a sudden none of my clothes seemed to go with my face, and neither did my
bangs. I was looking at myself in the mirror and wishing I had enough guts to get rid of the bangs once and for all. I hated them so much. But then again my mom would get upset. She's had bangs her whole life and naturally so had I. It would be too big of a change.

“I'm not ready yet.”

“Well snap to it then, they are meeting us in a half hour.” 

Vika was wearing makeup and a tight navy shirt that made her breasts look bigger than usual. I finally decided on jeans, black lacy top, and a pink choker with a little rose. 

“How do I look?”

“Excruciating. Let's go.”

“Where exactly are we going?”

“Oh, you'll love this. It's this cool club called Amsterdam.”

As we were approaching the entrance, I heard my heart throbbing loudly in my chest like a killer pounding on the door of his next victim. 

“Hey girls. Look at you! You look great!” 

Benya was as attractive as I remembered him. 

“Let's go have fun!” 

Scratch took Vika's hand and all four of us went through the dark maroon door of an old German building.
 
Amsterdam was a gay club. Correction - Amsterdam was the only gay club in Kaliningrad, which made our adventure all the more outrageous. As the heavily tattooed hostess was stamping our wrists, I couldn't help but looking around and taking everything in like a tourist.

“Here, for you guys. Some leftover party favors from Valentine's day.” 

The masculine hostess handed us each a DVD with Priscilla Queen of the Desert.
 
“Oh, thank you! That's so sweet.” 

I smiled at her but she didn't smile back. The dance floor was still fairly empty. Inside looked like any other club. The only difference was that for the first time ever I was there with someone I liked a lot. So naturally it within minutes became my favorite place in town. 

“What are you drinking?” 

Benya gently and kind of by the way touched my shoulder. Being very aware of my body all of a sudden I felt distracted.

“Oh, I don't know. I'm not a big drinker actually. Rum and coke I suppose.” 

“Me neither. I prefer tea.” 

He winked at me and then ordered two rum and cokes. 
He was telling me about being an architect, having a mother who's a designer and a father who was a jazz musician and who left them when Benya was only 6 years old. He complimented my eyes as people do in these sort of situations. And even though it was a very ordinary "nice" thing to say to a woman, my pelvic area seemed to enjoy it a lot by getting even warmer. His eyes were on me the entire time, his piercing chestnut eyes were getting closer and closer to mine, and then I felt the wetness of his mouth. I panicked and mid kiss started apologizing for not being very good at it due to a lack of practice. 

“It's ok. Don't worry. It's simple, look.”

“I feel like my teeth are in the way,”

I nervously smiled.

“Close your eyes and stop thinking. Just let me in.”

I did. I'd never felt so free and so beautiful. The nerve endings of our lips were having a party on each other's faces.
“I want your tongue.” 

He was stroking my hair and my face.  It's hard to say how long we were kissing for before I realized we were in the middle of the dance floor. "Relax, Take it Easy" came on.

“Oh, I love this song!” 

I was spinning around like a fool.

“Of course you do, everybody loves Mika.”

Everybody in 2007 did love Mika.  I wasn't sure if Vika and Scratch had left or were still there. I wasn't sure what time it was. I didn't care if my mom called to check up on me, which she probably did about 347 times. Nothing existed. Only me, that cute 24 year old Jewish boy, and my newly obtained skill of kissing him.