Giving A New Meaning To "Auto-Erotic"

WARNING: This post contains sexual references.

People ask me often if I have a particular thing that turns me on, or a particular place that makes me think of an erotic experience that I've had. And I always tell them, no. Which is a lie, but I don't like admitting the truth - that the one place in the world that I always associate with sex is not a romantic place at all, it's actually a gas station.

Yes, you read that right. A gas station. Or petrol station, for you Brits.

For several years now, I've been having a recurring dream about the Total station on the corner of Beech Road and Valley Road. I hesitate to call it a recurring dream, really, because it always changes somewhat. But there are some elements of it that remain the same.

For the sake of the Neo-Freudian analysis that so many of you seem to be into, I'll tell you a little bit about it. In the dream, it's cold outside. I'm tired, and I need a place to rest. So I come to the Beech-Valley intersection, and just seeing the gas station makes me feel warmer and less tired, like I'm already inside. I go into the store part to ask the guy behind the counter if I can use the public bathroom, and he tells me that they've added a rest stop to the back, and he gives me a keycard to access it. I go round the side of the building, to the back, and where there used to be a fence (and still is, in real life), it's been turned into a picnic area with benches where you can eat, and vending machines, and the little huts that in reality you can just see on the other side of the fence have become a kitchenette, bathroom and shower area. I let myself into the huts with the keycard, and I step into one of the shower stalls, and take off my clothes and turn the shower on. The water streams down my body, and I'm revelling in the warmth - it's cold and I'm tired, remember - and I'm soaping up my body and hair with a little travel-size bottle of shampoo that I got from the vending machine outside, and my eyes are closed, and the next thing I know I'm feeling a pair of strong, firm arms around my shoulders, and a pair of lips are kissing and sucking at my neck.

I should be surprised, but I'm not. It's almost like I subconsciously knew this would happen when I came here; like I didn't realise, but this is the reason I came here in the first place. So instead of being shocked and horrified that some strange guy has walked in on me when I was showering, I just feel warm and comfortable and safe.

Have you ever seen the music video for Calleon's "So I Begin"? The way that video makes me feel is the way I feel when this guy is showering with me. It's the way I feel when I'm in a modern apartment, with everything clean and sterile, decorated in soft, restful neutral colours, and I look out the window at the rain and know that I'm safe inside, away from the wet and cold. It's the way I sometimes feel when I play The Urbz. It's the way the underground tunnels in some northern cities make me feel. It's the way I would feel if I had a garage that I could access from my house, without going outside, and I could drive to the gym and park in the underground garage, and then drive to somewhere where I could get food and park underground there, too, and make the whole trip without having to face the outside once. It's the knowledge that the outside is there, and people are there, and I can interact with them if I choose, but I don't have to. I'm secluded, warm and comfortable and cozy and protected. In the world, but not of the world.

This man, and the shower and the warmth and the knowledge that there's plenty of food in the garage, all combine to make me feel wonderfully secure. I feel like we're in our own little bubble, where nothing painful can touch us. And he kisses me, and presses me up against the wall, and is loving me so completely and so beautifully that I don't care that I never get to see his face.

At least not while I'm dreaming. When I wake up, I care plenty. I really wish I could see who this person is, so I could find out a) if he's a real person, or at least a person I know, and b) if he IS a real person, if he makes me feel as protected and secure in real life as he does in the dream. But without seeing his face, it's impossible to work out who he is.

What do I know about him? I know he's a white man, with a golden tan. I know he has some hair on his arms, but very little on his chest. I know he has air-shaped hands, with square palms and long fingers with prominent knuckles. I know his arms are strong, and well-muscled without being beefy. I know he's a little taller than me, but not all that much. I know his thighs are strong enough to support me. I know that his abs and pecs are firm and hard. I know that his trapezius and latissimus dorsi feel perfectly formed under my hands. From the way he kisses my neck, I know that he shaves, although he has a little bit of stubble on his chin. I'd guess that his chin and nose are quite pointed, but that's just a guess.

Of course, this could describe a hundred men that I know, and countless ones that I don't.

Sometimes music plays. The music differs from dream to dream, although there are some songs that repeat quite often - usually ones where the backing music has a haunting quality. Gwen Stefani's "Cool" is one of them, as is her "4 In the Morning". Bobby Valentino's "Tell Me" repeats quite frequently. Stevie Nicks' "Crystal" is often our soundtrack. Abs' "7 Ways" has been the background music probably more times than any other song, at least as far as I can remember, and if I ever meet a guy who remembers that song I'll definitely give him a second look for this reason alone.

Sometimes there are several showers, and each of them has people in it, people who are doing much the same thing that we're doing. These particular dreams freak me out a little, principally because in the dream I'm NOT freaked out. Sometimes I go into the store area of the garage and there are people from high school in there, and I chat to them. Sometimes there's a hidden camera, taking pictures of us while we caress each other, the water flowing over our naked bodies.

I don't know how the dream ends, because I usually wake up. I can't say I'm happy to wake, because everything in the dream feels so wonderful. For days after having this dream, I feel slightly on edge, like I'm expecting something major to happen to me. I exist in a state of high anticipation. And nothing ever happens, and eventually I just go back to my life, until the next time. Recently, though, I've noticed that when I take a walk, which I've been doing a lot in the last few weeks, I plan my walks to take me past the garage. I didn't even realize I was doing it until a couple of days ago. And when I get there, I rest for a few minutes, and I watch the entrance, like I'm expecting to see someone I recognize.

And now and then, I go in and ask the guy behind the counter if I can use the bathroom. Even though I know they don't have one.

Y'know. Just in case.