Tour

I found a hotel to stay outside of Venice the main island proper. I don't remember how in this case I found it, but sometimes quite helpful in a new city, would-be to go to a Tourist Information Office, usually at the train station; and again usually, a small office with chairs and a big window-view out to the concourse. Sometimes it was an information-man or lady, and sometimes if he was gay guy who would try to seduce me. This particular instance, could have been here, Florence or Rome, but definitely he was Italian, as he told me he thought Germans were the best doms. What a deal. He gives tourist information and is able to use the office as a pick-up rendezvous, and get paid for it at the same time. I noticed in my travels, how clever gay-guys were in getting jobs that also enabled side-interests. So you half expected them. I was always nice. I would pretend to be flattered, and maybe I was; oh thank you so much, but I like girls. I knew I could-be or at least I thought I knew I could-be like him in my mind. So here it is. Just say OK. But it was this guy. He was fine for his own set. But not my horn-of-plenty. He was too much the schmoozer, the salesman, the favor-tender, the 'I can show you'. If only you knew what I know. He didn't fit my concept of sex. But then how would that work ?

I stayed at a hotel of seven stories, a small top-floor summer-help, and now off-season room, with a single bed, no window, let cheap because otherwise empty and unprofitable. The owner got to know me, because I don't think it could have been the other way 'round.

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