I picked him up on Grindr one late night in the city. He was a very attractive lawyer who seemed pretty normal and very masculine. He went to the gym a lot, so his body was tight, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. We exchanged numbers shortly after we began talking on Grindr. I texted him a few times while on vacation with my family to make sure he was still thinking about me periodically while I was gone. He was another guy I thought had a lot of promise.
The night before, while waiting for the bus to meet the southern gent, I called Harvard. He picked up, and we chatted a bit. I told him about my vacation and he told me how similar his family is. He had a trip coming up in a few months and felt the same way about it that I did about mine. It was easy to talk to him. He sounded great too. No flamboyance at least. I was looking forward to meeting him in person. I thought to myself, “Maybe a phone call should be a new part of the screening process before the first date. I could eliminate a few bad apples this way.”
On the walk home from my date with the souther gent, we texted each other. He managed to slip in a comment about how much he liked my body. I certainly appreciated the compliment and threw one right back in his direction.
We scheduled a date that Monday evening at Blockheads, and outdoor Mexican restaurant. This would be my third date in two days — I was speed dating over the course of a few days. I arrived early, so I put our name down and sat to read Chelsea Handler’s My Horizontal Life until he arrived. (She’s part of what inspired me to write this blog, so I thought I should at least read her books).
When he arrived, we were seated immediately. We had a nice table for two on the rim of the crowd. A few birds flew around our feet, and he started to freak out. I get weirded out when pigeons do it, but these were tiny little birds, not the flying rats I want to punt every time I see them. Now, I’m not judging, but it was a bit excessive. He freaked out and told me how much birds skeeve him out, but I was still a little weirded out by how much it bothered him.
I started to size him up. He looked like his pictures and he filled out his polo very nicely. Great arms and a great chest. I could tell he was a regular athlete who hit up the gym. This is important to me since I am so active. I need someone who can keep up with me.
We started on the small talk. We chatted about college, family, vacation, where we grew up, what we did for fun. It was almost as if he was reading from an interview script. The conversation was alright, but it certainly wasn’t relaxed. I was a little turned off because everything he said had a slight air of superiority to it. He was trying too hard to impress me, and if there’s one thing that turns me off with people, it’s that. He even wore his pretentious college ring. He was a nice guy, but I couldn’t take the high brow attitude.
In between all this, the waiter came by to take our drink orders and then our dinner orders. Every time he came by, Harvard started flirting with him. It was obvious this guy was a ‘mo, but he wasn’t even attractive. The waiter is supposed to flirt with you for a good tip, not the other way around.
We both enjoyed our meal and continued the “interview” while we ate. He told me about his “type.” I fit the mold perfectly as far as physical looks went, but I have a feeling he was looking for a younger or more subservient guy. We would butt heads, and I think he was looking for a guy he could rule over.
When the date ended, we hugged goodbye. We didn’t even talk about follow-up. We both knew there were no fireworks there. On my walk home, I texted him, “It was nice to meet you.” He responded, “likewise.” After that, it was simply on to the next guy on the list…Follow @onegayatatime