i’ve been needing a new vice since I’ve given up drugs and cut back considerably on my drinking. I once tried to start smoking several years back during a visit to Long Beach’s Gay Pride event. The little brown one was dating a smoker who promised to teach me how to smoke and not look too gay.

He bought a pack of Camel unfiltered cigarette and set out to teach me how to inhale along with many variations of holding the cigarette to look street tough. It took me close to a day and half before I could inhale the burning mixture of tobacco, chemicals and air without hacking like an amateur, but I got pretty good at it and soon looked forward to the heady rush of nicotine that would briefly follow a drag, while absent-mindedly picking the errant tobacco pieces from my lips. The nicotine rush lasted longer than I expected, so I got very little sleep that weekend which I quickly realized would be a problem since I cherished my sleep more than this new chosen vice.

I went to the local Walgreens, bought a box of nicotine replacement patches and started my withdrawal from a weekend of heavy smoking. Two weeks later, I’d be itching for another vice and would return, reluctantly to alcohol and sex.

Last night, The Jew and I went to Costco, and the itch for a new vice returned. I spent a good amount of time in the liquor aisle considering seriously my options between Gin, Vodka, or perhaps expanding my repertoire to include the “brown drinks” like Scotch or Whiskey. I spent even more time going thru the wine bins choosing bottles of hearty red wines, until it hit me that this would not be a new vice. I’ve been drinking wine and liquor since Highschool. No I would need something new.

A little while later, while reaching for a case of Diet Coke, I noticed a pallet of Starbuck’s Mocha Frappachino in the next bin. I briefly pondered the idea of coffee drinks as my new vice since it made good sense. I enjoy spending many hours in coffee shops and bookstores, and it was rather awkward to only order tea at these venues. But truth be told, my last experience with coffee was not pleasant.

While preparing for my first international business trip to Hong Kong, my then boss, sat me down to teach me how to conduct business in a foreign country. “Always take what is offered or it is rude and considered a slight against your host” she admonished. Being raised in the household and manner that I was, this advice terrified me. I swore to myself that I would never turn down anything offered and the business trip would be a huge success and I would be welcomed into the fold of the office in Hong Kong and soon they would send requests for my return. “Send that nice young boy that was so courteous” I would imagine the telephone conversation sounding.

Fast forward two weeks to my arrival in Hong Kong. I arrived on a Friday evening and was met at the airport by my counterpart and several of his colleagues from the office. He had the weekend planned for me and it would start immediately. He would take me to the hotel to check in and freshen up, then we would have dinner and following dinner would be drinks. He asked if there was anything I’d wanted to do during my stay and I mentioned that I’d like to get a suit and some shirts tailored for me. I’ll get into that in a future post.

After settling into the hotel, we went to a very pricey Sushi restaurant, where even more of his office colleagues met us for dinner. He set about telling me his plans for the weekend when I interrupted him and asked if he had a family and wouldn’t his wife would be upset that he was spending all this time with me. It turns out that he did have a wife and a small baby at home, so I asked him to please spend the time with his family and that I’d be fine in Hong Kong on my own. I like to wander around foreign lands alone anyway.

On Monday morning, he collected me from the hotel to visit the office and start my week. Enroute he asked if I’d had breakfast. I replied “no, I’m not a big…” trailing off in thought, remembering my boss’ words. I said I was starving and would love to grab some food. We stopped at a cafe across from the office where he was a regular customer and he ordered me up a cup of this drink called Yuanyang found only in Hong Kong. Again, hearing my boss’ words, I quickly set to drinking it. After about half the cup, I was wired. I could feel a level of energy similar to when I abused speed years before, which frightened me and prevented me from finishing the strong brew.

The day proceeded with meetings and introductions where I met the entire staff in Hong Kong at all four offices. By the end of the day, I was still wired. They took me back to the hotel to change for dinner and during the trip, my host leaned over quietly and asked “You don’t drink coffee do you?”

“No” I replied still twitching from the morning brew.

“Then why did you drink it?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to insult you” came my embarrassed reply.

Once he stopped laughing, he informed me that if I didn’t want something I didn’t have to take it and that my boss was incorrect in her beliefs about doing business in Hong Kong. (I’m sorry CD, but that’s what he said.)

Standing in Costco remembering this story made up my mind. I reached for the case of Starbuck’s prepackaged Mocha Frappachino.