As someone who started to live an active gay life 14 years ago, I should be used to HIV tests. However, I woke up to this hottest day in Sydney on a Saturday morning, nervous as fuck. Despite the nerves kicking in my system for attention, I was pretty amused at how there was a lack of hangover this morning, especially after I had been out drinking last night.
Parramatta, the ‘burb I live in, is well known to be a city away from a city out in the west of New South Wales. But this has never stopped it from having a few dodgy weekends in a month where train schedules are cancelled and replacement bus rides are given. I do not have an issue with bus rides but having to catch a bus, then a train, would only take more time than just a simple one way trip to the city via a train.
As predicted, after the bus had taken me suburbs closer to the city to Granville, I discovered I would have to wait for a train for 14 more minutes. I had no choice but to uber myself out of this mess. Call me a superficial bitch but I like to see how my uber driver is going to look like and if I have time, I would actually pick the good looking ones and cancel the fugly ones. I do not have anything against people I am not attracted to; I just think it’s only fair that I get a good something to feast my eyes on, especially for services I am charged for.
I chose this uber driver called Adam. For the sake of privacy, I will not share the plate number on this site. For some reason, Adam has this peace sign on his Uber Avatar and although I had no time to pick or delete the Uber drivers, I still wanted to check out who was driving me to the clinic.
Finally, Adam showed up and dayuum he was fine. Call me crazy but I have always fantasized about a great “how did you guys meet” story on my wedding day and at times like this, I would wonder if Adam would be my husband one day, even though I was so dead sure he does not play for my team. But then again, my friends had described my gaydar as super-rusty.
Adam was fun to converse with. He seems mature for his age. Half Persian and half Turkish at the age of 24, he was a fine young man with a sense of humor. He has this really annoying high pitched laugh, that almost sounds like a donkey, whose leg has been caught in a bear trap. But I find that laugh pretty cute. Maybe it was just his sense of humor that got me all moist as well.
I played it cool, I guess. I hinted him two times about my gender preference. He also hinted by conversing about two gay clubs he had been to and a few others he had heard of. It was a nice ride with Adam but nothing came out of it but just a mighty fine 35 minutes uber ride with a great view and a genuinely fun conversation. (Have I mentioned how he was wearing a tight shorts and how he had those sexy chunky thighs?)
I was greeted by a very hot guy at the clinic. I believe it’s one of those clinics set up by this Acon in Australia, where they provide free HIV or STD tests for anybody but it’s just super gay friendlier. This hot guy was wearing a tight black polo and one of those annoying Drake-crotched blue jeans shorts. In case you are wondering what I meant by Drake-crotched shorts, it’s those ones that have too much space in the crotch area, which is pretty much not bulge-siters-friendy. I believe they call these drop crotch pants.
The hot guy turned out to be my doctor. He seems pretty good at his job as this warm communicable hot doctor. I guess he was Italian since he called me “Bello”. Now, the last time I had an HIV test in Sydney, I had to bend down doggy style and wait for the doctor to put a cotton-head stick in my butt hole. I think it was some old guy but even then I was nervous as fuck. I broke into cold sweat while Dr Hot was talking to me and this was not entirely because I was about to check if I was HIV positive or negative but the reason was more because I would not want to expose my hairy butt to Dr Hot.
As he inserted his needle, and I mean a real one, into my finger, he looked up to me and said “You have not been drinking a lot of water, have you?” I chuckled. I like it when hot men try to be cheeky and funny while taking blood tests. I was never a big fan of needles so I did think that treatment was quite necessary. Dr Hot then took out this kit and he took out this stick that looked like something you would put into a rabbit’s ear. He then instructed me to go to the toilet to take a urine test and to put the cotton head stick inside my ass. He also took the shorter one out to use it for throat swab. Thank God he did not have to do my ass swab and I was asked to do it on my own.
If there was something I do not like about people, it’s how they are so quick at assuming things. So, Dr Hot asked me what I have planned for the day, to which I said ‘possibly staying at home. When I asked him back the question, he answered quite the same but the answer was followed by a sentence that has the phrase ‘husband’ in it. “Oh. You should try to contact the clinics for PREP and PEP. My husband is one of the doctors there.” Yes, Dr Hot, I get it. I was not making a pass on you and you are way out of my league.
Thank technology for rapid tests but I got my result out a few minutes later. To be honest, I was already naturally calm after a ride with the uber hottie and after a short convo about butt swabs and husband promotions with Dr Hot.
No matter how nerve wrecking it is to go for HIV tests, I find it more nerve wrecking if I build it up to longer periods in between tests. It has been two years and I could not sleep most of last week, in hope that I would come out not infected with HIV. An uber ride with my half Persian/half Turkish dream husband, a visit to a hot doctor and a “negative” test result later, I was relieved.
I thought about celebrating my negative HIV result by getting a bootie call but I guess just by these two gentlemen this morning, I was pretty much satisfied. The weather was too hot anyways…