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Not on My Bucket List

When Sam goes on a gay website looking for romance, he finds more than he bargained for. Rejecting all the usual requests for hook-ups, he searches for something more sincere. And he finds it in the most unexpected of places, as he is drawn to the profile of a man in a faraway place.<br><br>Amir, an Algerian descended from desert nomads, has posted a profile looking for the love of his life. Sam finds it amazing that a gay man born in the Algerian desert has the bravery to not only declare he is gay, but also to admit his dream is to find a husband to spend his life with.<br><br>While Sam doesn’t consider himself the marrying kind, he starts chatting with Amir, telling himself he just wants to learn about another culture. His friends laugh at him, saying this man just wants to use him to emigrate to the west and take him for his money. But he refuses to believe it, sensing a sincerity he has never seen with anyone else. The two begin a dialogue that moves to weekly Skype sessions, discussions of religion and world politics, assistance with life challenges and, finally, a declaration of love ... and an invitation.<br><br>Can these two men from vastly different worlds and cultures meet and find common ground for a romance? The challenges are great, and spending a life together seems like an impossible dream. While Sam’s friends continue to discourage him, he knows he cannot give up this man. Is Amir sincere, or is Sam being used?<br><br>There is only one way to find out if Amir is really sincere. And Sam knows what he has to do.

Tom Monroe · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

Chapter 39

I watched a cab drive by. It was full. Then another, and another. All full. They must be coming in the direction of the hotels. At least I had been right in my hunch about where to catch a taxi. But Amir made no move to hail any of them. He wasn’t even standing near the curb to accomplish that. When I asked him what we were going to do, if he was going to hail a cab, he just laughed and said, “This is not New York or Paris. I will take care of it.”

He walked to the end of the block and began talking in Arabic with one of a group of men standing next to some parked cars. An animated conversation ensued for several minutes, then Amir motioned me to come down and join him. “Get in the back seat with your luggage,” he said, opening the back door for me. “I will sit in the front. Do not say anything. I will take care of everything.”