Originally published on July 26, 2008
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I like Dominik, the blondish 19-year-old gay twink who’s been sharing my king-sized bed with Ovidiu and Daniel for the past couple days. He gets enough biznis that he’s been supplying a steady, if oddly chosen, stream of groceries.
I’m not sure a fresh pineapple and instant tea is such a wise use of his crowns; but the 4 bottles of Krušovice were appreciated. However, he did initially ask to stay only one night and he’s now on night 5. His know-it-all nature is getting on my nerves.
[Just to be clear; I’m on the couch in my own apartment. My Romanian friend Cip was horrified; but since I’m basically a squatter now myself I don’t see what difference it makes.]
This morning he asked me, as I was getting the egg carton out of the refrigerator, “Do you know how to cook those?”
The other day he tried to teach me how to use my French coffee press, a utensil he claimed never to have seen the day before.
I just know one of these days he’s going to try to teach me how to suck cock.
I’ve been replying with some old-fogey phrase beginning with “I’ve been cooking/writing/listening to music/cleaning toilet bowls longer than you’ve been alive, you little queen, etc. etc.”
Like Daniel he disdains Pinocchio as a source of income, even as a freelancer. Bob thinks something happened to get him banned from Pino’s but Dominik says he just doesn’t like it: the boys use drugs and are stuck-up.
I asked him, “How much money do you have in your pocket?”
He said, “If I want money I just…”
I interrupted him, with emphasis, “How much money do you have in your pocket?”
“None,” he resigned.
Then Ovidiu chimed in, ever the big brother with the proper work ethic.
“I, too, can say I don’t like Pinocchio. I don’t like boys. I don’t like drugs. But what I do?”
He then fanned out the 20,000 Kč he had fished out of his pocket.
“I do this; I have this,” he said.
Dominik had nothing but a shrug to say to that and went back drinking his tea and eating his two slices.