Tuscon, Arizona.
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Arizona.
I was forced there because of work obligations.
And… guess what? I’m already planning my next trip (well, in theory)!
New York City can be a cold and frigid place. I was only happy to go to Arizona because, in comparison to NYC, it was warm and I was getting away. (And here is a tip for the frugal 20 something year old traveler: Find a job that pays for you to travel, because I only spent $20 out-of-pocket. Thanks Job!)
Holding onto the arm rest of my violent chair (I hate planes!) I fantasized about what Arizona would be like. I envisioned this warm vacation spa where I could sit under the sun and relax.
And I was right! I arrived at the Tucson International Airport, waited for my coworker to use the gender neutral bathroom (the family bathroom) and rushed my way passed the moving doors and into the warm crisp air.
A huge cactus welcomed me and I greeted it back, hopping around like a 5-year-old just discovering he was gay. I was so happy to have Vitamin D lend me some endorphins and plant a smile on my face.
Tucson was quiet.
I had just finished doing research on the Mexican/United States border prior to arriving in Tucson so I was expecting to see a huge Mexican cultural influence; mariachis greeting me and maybe a taco stand. But, it was not Queens, NY and so I got none of that. Oh well. I did eat Mexican food that night though it was like a really exaggerated taco bell. It was good, but it wasn’t the “authentic” Mexican food that my Mexican friends had told me about… Pozole, Tamales and Cemitas. Yum.
That being said, Tucsonans do pride themselves on their Mexican culture, which they call Sonoran. It’s a lot different then the Mexican cultures that have migrated to New York City.
Gay Travel in Tucson.
And being gay in Tucson is apparently a lot more acceptable than in Phoenix (which shocked me, but that’s for another article). I went to Colors, which is a gay owned and themed restaurant. It truly seemed like a welcoming place for LGBTQ people and not just a flaming stereotype. However, it certainly was not intergenerational. At 23, the waiter and I were the youngest ones there, and at least by 10 years.
One cannot go to a gay restaurant and leave without an interesting story:
As soon as I felt my age, I immediately had to lock myself in the bathroom and send texts complaining to my New York City constituents that there was no one my age and I would not be able to partake in the hotel rendezvous I envisioned.
The door wasn’t locked.
An older gay man, about 55, comes in and spots me huddled up in the corner by the sink, texting away. “What a pleasant surprise, a cute young twink.” He startles me, but I like a good flirt. I stand up and apologize, and tell him he can use the bathroom. He, jokingly (I think), invites me to stay and watch. I decline but do accept his offer for a hug.
Hugging a random stranger in a public bathroom. Only in Tucson, Arizona?
Two Vodka Cranberries later, I’m buzzed and it’s time to leave. The older man stops me, and introduces me to his older friend. I feel so beautiful. My competition, the other 23-year-old (the waiter) comes by, and referring to me, says “Are you messing with my customer?” Ah, I love him now. We all share a good laugh, my self esteem is high, but my coworker gives me the look and I must leave.
I should have gotten the waiter’s number. Oh well.
But yes, Colors was fun. I did do some touristy things while in Tucson, like visit the Saguaro National Park. That was… cute. After seeing Cacti for over an hour, I had my fix. I would go again, but it’s best used for a jog or walk with a love one. I was in a car with my co worker and a very quiet older, and awkward, lady.
All in all, Tucson… 2 thumbs up!
Next stop: Phoenix!
Bryan Pacheco, Contributing Writer
