One Gay at a Time

I woke Sunday morning and decided my time with Mr. Grindr was over. N was still trying to get with him, and that was a whole lot of drama I didn’t want to get into. I was disgusted by the whole thing. It reminded me constantly of the time I cheated on N just for the sake of evening a score. It reminded me of how much less of a man I was. I didn’t need it. Plenty of other fish in the sea. I think I kept him on the roster for so long as I did because I felt guilty for dragging him into the middle of N and I.

Since no one was in town, I did what I could to clear my head. I don’t do well alone. When I’m alone, I have nothing to distract me. I star to crawl up into my own head, and I don’t like what I find. I get depressed. I know this isn’t healthy, but denial is a wonderful thing! I decided to head down to the pier in Hoboken with a few magazines and my notebook to catch up on my blogging.

Of course, I couldn’t leave the house without my matchmaker, Grindr. And once again, I found myself spending more time searching and less time writing. I managed to reconnect with a guy I had been chatting with on an earlier day. He was a sexy black man from Jersey City. I have nothing against black men, but they’re not usually my type. However, I don’t discriminate, so I convinced him to come to the pier and hang out with me.

I had been in the sun a majority of the day and was enjoying myself. I sat and people watched and read Men’s Health and Details. He showed up a few hours later. We shook hands, and he sat next to me. We started with small talk, but as the day progressed, the conversation developed more substance. We shared a great deal in common. He looked like quite the athlete as well. He had nice arms and great legs. He kept his shirt on while we sat in the sun. I found this slightly odd, but to each his own. I just wanted to see what was under the shirt.

When I couldn’t take any more of the sun, I asked if he wanted to grab a drink. I was enjoying his company a lot. He seemed like a great guy. We packed up my blanket and other things and walked to nearby Trinity to sit by the waterfront and have a few cocktails. I hadn’t had lunch, so I ordered a large salad. We both got drinks outside our usual comfort zones and shared with each other. It was nice. We were having a good time. Eventually, he ordered some food as well.

I was pleasantly surprised. This was a completely last-minute unplanned date, and it was turning out to be quite good. I was also finding myself more and more attracted to him. He had an amazingly infectious smile.

After a few round of drinks, we took a walk along the waterfront. I hit a bit of a snag in keeping the date going. It was starting to get late, so I wanted to head back to my apartment, but I also wanted him to join me. But, I had my motorcycle and only one helmet. When we arrived at my bike, I explained the predicament and invited him to come back. I would have to ride home, and walk and meet him half way to my apartment. He agreed, so I sped off.

When we got to the apartment, I opened a bottle of wine, and we went out to the balcony to relax and keep the dialogue going. When 11:00 rolled around, he was ready to head home. I invited him to stay. He knew I was no longer interested in simple hookups. I made that clear early on, so he questioned my logic. I told him, “After spending the day with you, I feel comfortable and would like you to stay.” He graciously agreed, and we started making out on the balcony. After some time passed, I grabbed his hand and brought him back to my room.

The clothes came off, and that’s when I got a bomb dropped on me. All of a sudden, I knew why the shirt stayed on at the pier. While his legs and arms were quite toned and muscular, his mid section was very flabby. It was almost as if he had lap band surgery and hadn’t completed the skin restructuring. When I grabbed for his ass, it felt like a Ziploc of water. There was absolutely no muscle definition there. He wasn’t kidding when he told me he was a mathlete in high school, and not the football player I pictured him to be.

I’m sure I’m coming across very shallow at this point, but sexual attraction is 40% of a relationship for me. This was 40% I couldn’t get over. I can be very forgiving about a lot of things on a guy, but this was tough. I had been with a guy before who had this issue, but it was very slight. I looked past it. Tonight, I could, but this guy would not be back for seconds. I liked him a lot, but I was no longer sexually attracted to him. We still fooled around, and he spent the night with me, but I couldn’t picture myself repeating the night.

In the morning, we woke and got dressed. I explained how he could get to the light rail to head home. We kissed and he invited me to hang out again. He said I could come hang at his pool sometime. I appreciated this. He really was a nice guy. I could easily see us being friends, but we certainly would not be romantically involved. I gave him a kiss goodbye, and with that, he walked out the door.