Sting Me, Daddy.

It was a hot day before Thanksgiving in 2016. I arrive at the beach parking lot wearing my Linda Evanglista cut off shirt and short yellow swim briefs. I’m here to meet “MUSCLANZBTM” my grindr date.

I text him that I’ve arrived, but that I need to pee first. He text’s back, “Pink Speedos”.

I head towards the bathroom and climb up the stairs where there are three urinals, two are being occupied by guys at opposite ends. I take the middle one, whip my junk out and start peeing.

I start to feel eyes gazing upon me. I look to my right and the ripped Latin guy is smiling looking away gently. Then I notice the guy on my left - a slender white guy, is fully hard and looking at us both. I realize in that moment I’ve arrived at my first gay beach in LA.

The Latin man pulls away from his urinal and leans against the wall exposing himself fully and his huge erect cock. Now I’m fully hard and done peeing, so obviously I get on my knees and help him out. The slender white man came in between us with his cock near my face. I declined because he wasn’t all that attractive, but the handsome Latin man had no problem kissing him and stroking him while I performed bathroom fellatio. George Michael would be so proud.

And then it hit me. I’m here for a “date”, not a hookup.

I didn’t shame myself because it was nice to suck some dick beforehand, Alas if me and pink speedos didn’t work out at least I had the bathroom blowie.

The gorgeous Latin man turned around and pulled down his briefs as I stood up. He grabs the cock of the other man bringing it closer to him, I could have had bathroom cake but I had to get my priorities straight.

Walking towards the shoreline I see pink speedos and call out for him. He gets up, and runs towards me excitedly offering to take my beach bag. I’m quite perplexed because not even my best friend would perform such a greeting. We walk towards his towel as he fires off a million questions rapidly. “How was the drive!? How long did it take? Are you hungry? Do you want a drink? Should we go in the water!? I think we should? Ugh, it’s so BEAUTIFUL!”

I thought I talked a lot, I thought I had too much energy, but this one blew me away, and I kinda liked it.

We sat down, he opened his cooler to offer me some wine, I declined because at this point, I had been 2 years sober. He congratulates me by swigging from the bottle. We made a brief conversation about our plans for Thanksgiving, and then again he asked, “Should we go in the water!?”. I responded, “Sure”.

He grabs my hand to pull me up and we make our way into the ocean. He is running toward the water, flaunting his body off to everyone, I didn’t mind he looked amazing! But I realized at that moment, that this might just be a friend's date.

I stepped into the water, it was surprisingly warm. He starts tossing water at me and laughing, I kick some back at him and as soon as I stepped my right foot back down, I felt sharp pain, I fell down to my knees and screamed. He looks back laughing, “stop being so dramatic, jeeze!” I yell back, “I’m not, are there fucking jellyfish in here!?”.

“JELLYFISH!?” He screams and runs over to grab me. “Oh fuck, you really are hurt!” He without asking, hoists me up onto his shoulders and runs us back to our towel. I can see everyone looking at us both as we pass them as I scream in horror, my bathing suit halfway down my ass, snot falling from my upside down face. He drops me onto the towel as I let out a fierce belly scream grabbing my right foot as hard as I can.

A woman near us comes over and asks if we need help. I pleaded her for a lifeguard. And she ran off.

MUSCLANZBTM was in no way shape or form interested in running to get a lifeguard. He wanted to stay by my side, and ask a million questions about the pain like, how I’m feeling, and does it hurt, in 20 different ways. All I could do was just scream and breathe, and avoid his questions.

A gaggle of gays came over to ask similar questions which is really fucking annoying when you’re in the worst pain you’ve ever felt. I think they just wanted a reason to talk to MUSCLAZNBTM. The only girl of the group steps forward and tells me, “It must be a Sting Ray, I got stung once, and it was worse than giving birth to my son.”

MUSCLAZNBTM asked her if he should pee on it, and she said no. All the boys laugh. She continued, “The lifeguards will bring over boiling water for it.”

“Boiling, Fucking, Water!?” I think to myself.

And that’s exactly what happened. Moments later two lifeguard trucks arrive, sirens blasting. One lifeguard assesses the situation then takes my vitals, the other comes over with a giant canister of boiling hot water. He then digs a hole in front of my right foot and lines it with a large plastic bag. I looked at all of them like they were fucking maniacs and said two words to them, “Hell No!”

The captain explained that Sting Rays release a cold based neurotoxic venom into the affected area and the only way to suppress that venom is boiling hot water. Aka, the pain level now is a 10 but the hot water is an 8. Which would I prefer?

I plunged my foot into the hot water and wanted to puke from how painful it was, but surprisingly I felt some relief. The lifeguards generously stuck around for an hour to refill the hot water a few times, and to keep me company, but eventually they had to go. This terrified me because I knew that the hot water would get cold eventually, and that meant, the worst pain of my life again, also I had to interact with MUSCLANZBTM. On their way out they told me about the urgent care up the street who dealt with stingray injuries.

It wasn’t until they left that MUSCLANZBTM let me know that he no longer was having fun, and It wasn’t until he took a small bag and snorted cocaine infront of me that I realized he’s been high as a fucking kite this whole time. “So do you want me to take you to the ER?” he says sniffing. I thought to myself, “Fuck this piece of shit human, I need to get out of here. NOW!”

I commanded him to take my beach bag to my car, and then come back to haul me to my car, I was going to drive myself to the ER. He asked if I was sure, and I screamed at him. “YES!” So he jumped up in the cocaine quickness and executed the first task, the second task was unbearable.

As my foot left the sweltering water, I could feel the venom slashing at all my nerve endings with tiny swords covered in flames. I screamed all the way to the car, when he set me into my drivers seat he offered to drive me once more. I took my keys, turned my car on, and said no as I shut the door.

MUSCLAZNBTN sauntered off, I watched him wave down the group of gays that approached us earlier. Sitting in my car for a second I just screamed. I had to pull myself together to make the 10 minute journey to the Santa Monica Urgent Care. But since it was my right foot, I just had to drive with my left foot. Upon exiting the parking lot directly onto the PCH a speeding car approached, I slammed on my breaks. Right foot it is. The pain surged from the bottom of my foot all the way to my throat and a chunk of puke flew onto my steering wheel. I scream, but it is my turn to go, so I hit the gas. I continued the 10 minute journey, which felt like the longest drive of my entire life.

When I arrived at urgent care, there were no parking spots, so I pulled in front of the stairs, and hobbled out of my car. My phone fell to the ground shattering, alongside my car keys. A man behind me grabs both and I grunt and scream “Thank you” and he follows me inside.

The waiting room was very nice, and very quiet. A total of 3 patients were before me, all whom seemed calm and collected.

I barged in screaming in gay agony, in my gay beach attire, gay disheveled with a man following behind me to help me sit in a chair handing me my belongings, who also decided he would facilitating between the administrative nurse and I. I didn’t realize until later that he had a dislocated shoulder.

For some reason the nurse who hated herself wasn’t being compliant. Of course I needed to fill out paperwork, wait until it was my turn, pay beforehand, etc. How else would they know what to do?

Naturally in my demonic state I exclaimed at the nurse “YOU’RE A GOD DAMN NIGHTMARE” The man who helped me before agreed with me and helped me fill out my paperwork, and the patients ahead in the queue dropped their position so I could be seen first. Maybe it’s because they were very kind and realized how much pain I actually was in, or that they were just actually terrified and maybe thought I was having a psychotic drug break.

I finally get admitted into a room where they do the same exact thing the lifeguards did for me. Except for them they used the Alhambra hot water filter in a tiny ass bowl. And they would only refill it every 30 minutes even though the water went cold after 10 minutes. I paid $300 dollars for this. I text my friend Ramon begging him to come get me out of his hell hole, and also to bring someone to drive my car home.

Asking him this was the ultimate favor. 4:00pm on a weekday on the 10 west is where no one wants to be in LA.

The doctor who was overseeing me apparently got tired of me grunting and crying in the room yelling the nurse for hot water. He offered me pain killers 2 hours into the visit, but that I would have to leave once I received the prescription note. He was a bitchy queen from the start, I could tell. He hated himself. I hated him, for hating himself.

I laughed at his face for the fact that he was JUST offering me pain killers, but also accepted graciously. He had the nurse bind my foot up tight with warm water (which would eventually turn cold, duh!) and sat me back in the waiting room. This is when shit got real.

As soon as that cast got cold, I started screaming again. Everyone in the waiting room went full on crazy at the nurse for ejecting me, but she harped back to them defensively that I had a friend coming to get me and that they have offered me pain killers. The man who helped me prior (the one with the dislocated shoulder, which by the way is STILL dislocated) asked if I had taken pain killers yet. I screamed, “Not yet”. So he took my prescription note and my ID and darted off to get them. He didn’t take any money, he paid for them himself. He’s was a fucking angel.

Ramon and his friend Eric finally show up and see me in pure agony, I let them know I’m waiting on my painkillers and that this saint of a man should be back soon. Ramon asks the nurse if he could use the bathroom and she directs him reluctantly.

As Ramon is coming back I hear him say “Hey Babe, How are you!?”, a man responds to him. “I’m good, just dealing with that crazy kid in the front!” Ramon responds, “Oh do you mean my friend?” The doctor goes quiet. Ramon comes back and we laugh about the interaction, apparently he’s an ex of an ex, and turns out I was right, he’s a bitch.

Then the saintly man returns with my painkillers. I offered him my number so I could reward him generously, but he declined. He was purely stoked to help a human in need. I hope that man has won the lotto by now. The big one.

Ramon and Eric escorted me back home but before their heroic act I treated them both to dinner while on Painkillers, I’m sure I entertained well.

All in all. . .

At least I had the bathroom blowie to remember.