Posts Tagged bad taste

I Never was Good at Sharing

As gay men, CK and I had been anticipating the release of Magic Mike with bated breath. One Friday night, CK suggested we check it out. When he said we, I assumed he meant just the two of us, but I quickly came to learn we included Old News as well. As long as we were inviting friends, I knew P wanted to see the movie as well, so I reached out to her. This was two-fold because it would also help balance the scale since I wasn’t exactly comfortable with how Old News was with CK. We were all planning to gather in midtown to check out a late showing.

I was meeting CK at his apartment before the movie, and when I arrived, I learned Old News would be meeting us there as well before walking to the theater together. I already couldn’t wait. From the moment Old News arrived, he began schmoozing CK. A friendly greeting with a hug is completely acceptable, but the kiss on the cheek was a little unnecessary. This was no air kiss, and I know because I was behind CK looking right at him as he did it. It probably was not his intent, but I felt it may have been done for my benefit. I didn’t like it — Not one bit. All I could do was stand by and watch this without saying anything. I would have to wait to have a private conversation with CK later.

Of course, he was very cordial toward me, but I couldn’t have cared less. I still had a bad taste left in my mouth from the last time we hung out at XL. That night, I was going to get the answer to a question that arose every time he came around. Was he actually flirting with CK because of lingering feelings, or was I imagining things? I had an advantage that night. I had two sets of eyes on him. I had asked P to watch and tell me if my suspicions were correct.

We met P in front of the theater, and as we took our seats, what transpired next could not have made me happier. It just so happened, as we walked into the theater, the order was Old News, myself, CK and finally P. So, when we sat, I was between Old News and CK, and I was thrilled. When CK and I go to the movies, we’re fairly affectionate in the way we sit. We hold hands or put our arms around each other. I wasn’t going to change that this time, and Old News was about to get a front row seat to this. Maybe he’d realized the CK ship has sailed. He was my man now, and it was time to back off and learn to simply be his friend. Nothing more. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t want Old News out of the picture completely. He was CK’s friend. I simply wanted him to respect the relationship between CK and I.

The theater was a sh*t show — Like being in an actual strip club. Women were everywhere, shouting and squealing at the screen as they jumped out of their seats in excitement. I was shocked I didn’t see a dollar bill or two go flying in the air.

As we left the theater, Old News commented to us, “Wow! It smells like wet vagina in here! Do you smell that?” I thought the comment was hysterical because he was pretty spot on, but I wasn’t exactly in the frame of mind to laugh at his jokes yet.

We stopped on the corner of the street to discuss what we wanted to do next. None of us had eaten, so food was discussed, but no one would make a decision. Finally, we landed on heading back to CK’s apartment to smoke and hang out.

As we walked down the street, Old News was joking and what I would certainly call flirting with CK. When the opportunity arose, he’d throw an arm around him or pat him on the back. Don’t get me wrong. I’d seen this interaction time and time again with Hip, and I had no problem with it. In fact, I welcomed it. It all seemed completely different with Old News. Old News would draw CK into a conversation, and the two of them continued on as if P and I didn’t exist. At some point, CK noticed I was a bit out of sorts. He hung back with me and asked what’s wrong. I reiterated how I felt Old News was flirting and still had a crush on him. Once again, he told me I was imagining things. I started to get adamant, and I think he finally realized how much this bothered me.

If he was willing to act like this in front of me, what would Old News try to do if I wasn’t around. Like I said, it wasn’t CK I trusted, it was Old News. After chatting for so long, I’m sure he realized something was up. We agreed to talk about it again later and returned back to the other two.

We hung out at CK’s for quite some time, and around 2:00am, we decided to go to Flaming Saddles, and P decided to head home. As I walked her out I asked her what she thought. She agreed he was still flirting, but to a bit of a lesser degree. It was all I needed to confirm I wasn’t being irrational. I thanked her and gave her a hug goodnight. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going out since it was already quite late, and we were going to the beach the following morning with Boston and a few others. As our group was shrinking by one, we were also growing by two. CK’s roommate and his assistant joined us. The night was only getting better and better.

When we arrived at Flaming Saddles, no one was there. Instead, we continued on to Industry. It was a good scene, and the good news was that CK and I were dancing. Old News seemed to disappear. However, it wasn’t long before I felt I was beginning to disappear too. I was slowly but surely getting comfortable with going to gay bars, but I was also learning something about CK in gay bars I didn’t exactly appreciate.

When we danced, I never felt like I was dancing with just him. I felt like I was dancing with the entire bar. He danced, and I was tried to dance next to him. He constantly looked around to see who was looking at him, gently touching guys as they passed by him. I never had his full attention. This was only exacerbated when he stepped up on the stage, and I was two steps below him. I felt like I was there with a go-go boy, and I have to admit I was a little crushed. It hurt. Was my attention not enough for him? Did he need the eyes of every other guy in the room? This brought up a lot of worries I’d been having about our relationship. I was worried I wasn’t enough for him, and that was all I wanted.

We ended up closing down the bar at 4:00am. We were all starving, so we foraged for food. We settled on Empanada Mama and grabbed a table outside. They had a packed house, so it took forever for us to get our food. When it finally arrived, everyone dug in. When I went to grab my second empanada, it was gone. I looked across the table and noticed Old News shoveling it into his pie hole. I don’t think he took it on purpose, but it was a perfect picture of my relationship with him. First, he was trying to steal my man. Now, he was stealing my food.

I was already agitated by Old News, but at this point, it was 6:00am and the sun was starting to come up. As the time ticked on, I grew more and more anxious about getting up the next day to follow through on my plans. CK was already so tired he actually fell asleep at the table. It was time to go home and go to bed. We said goodbye and made our way home. While we walked he turned to me and said, “You’re nuts if you think we’re heading to the beach tomorrow at 10:00.” That set me off. I told CK about my plans to go to the beach days prior to this. He should have planned accordingly. This was important to me. I hadn’t seen Boston in over a year. He was completely disregarding my plans, and I was furious. “You’re nuts if you think we’re not.” He looked at me with a confused look.

I explained how upset I was and of course started getting loud. The fact that he remembered the beach plans and completely disregarded them was incredibly demeaning. In doing so, he was telling me that his unplanned fun mattered and my planned day did not. We could have called it quits at any point throughout the night so we could have done a bit of both. Had he brought it up before 6:00am, I probably would have been receptive of a compromise. I would have said we could leave around 11:00 so we could stay out a little later. At this point, after being told I’m nuts, I wasn’t about to give up any ground. I told him I was going, with or without him. I had made plans with a friend visiting from out-of-town, and I wasn’t about to back out because he wanted to stay out all night.

Against the advice of nearly every couple I’ve ever met, that night (or should I say morning) we went to bed angry…

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Southern Drawl

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

During my week off from work, I was laying in my bed on Grindr on my tablet. Much to my surprise, the southern guy from OKCupid I connected so well with over the phone popped up. Last I heard from him, he was seeing some guy. That was the reason he gave me for never following through to meet up with me. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with how it all went down. I left a really bad taste in my mouth. I really didn’t want to ever give him a chance, but I was constantly drawn to how well we hit it off when we talked on the phone.

I messaged him, “Well, look who it is!” He responded, and we began chatting a bit. He asked how I was and started getting a bit flirtatious. I told him I was well and pointed out his flirting would not work on me. He’d already turned me off by shooting me down. I detailed for him all the advances I made on him and pointed out how he never even took the time to meet me.

He pulled out the excuse that he wasn’t looking to meet someone else — It just happened. He kept trying to get pictures out of me. I told him I was not looking for sex, especially from him. I pointed out that if he wanted to grab a drink as friends, I would be down, but I wasn’t going to send him pix and do the whole Grindr flirting thing.

I’m not proud of this, but I had an internal conflict in my head. Part of me wanted to steal him away from the guy he was currently seeing. Another part of me wanted to make him fall for me and then dump him. I’m not that kind of vindictive guy, but I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind.

I decided then and there to form a game-plan. I was going to present myself as I am. I wasn’t going to try too hard or be someone I wasn’t, i.e. someone he wanted. I was just going to display my best self. If he happened to choose to go on a date with me, that was his choice, not mine. We exchanged pictures, none of which showed the goods. This is what really seemed to reel him in. He was certainly responding to visual stimuli. He really started getting chatty. I’d already learned he was still seeing someone, but he let it slip that it wasn’t the person he was going on the date with when he dropped me like a bad habit. I called him out for not calling me when things ended with the first guy. I put it all on him. I was running him through a guilt gauntlet. I made myself quite a prize for him to attain. Now, I had his attention. I wasn’t going to chase him. I set the bait, and he was going to chase me.

After more flirting and exchanging of pictures, we made plans to grab drinks after work Monday evening. We agreed upon Chelsea Manor, but when I arrived there, it was closed. He met me shortly thereafter, and we began to walk to find a bar to go to. I met him on the street with a very awkward handshake. He seemed very aloof. I had a feeling this was going to be an awful date!

We found a bar nearby, The Guilty Goose, and sat in the front window drinking a few rounds of beers. I quickly learned how homophobic he was. I’m a fan of guys who aren’t into the scene, but he was so far removed. It was alarming. He wouldn’t even walk through the “gay part” of Chelsea. I wasn’t asking him to go to a gay bar, but that was the neighborhood between his office and mine. There were plenty of places to go that weren’t gay bars.

We chatted over our beers and kinda hit it off once again. After three rounds, he asked if I was hungry, and we decided to grab dinner together. He knew of a good Thai place nearby, so we went there. We ordered a bottle of wine and our food. We didn’t need the bottle of wine. I could tell he was getting quite intoxicated. I was still pretty lucid, but I didn’t want to be drinking that much on a Monday night.

He started getting very flirtatious and sexual. At one point he removed his shoe and began massaging my crotch. I was wondering how the guy he was dating would feel about this. I wasn’t going to move things across the line, but if he did, I wasn’t going to stop him. Some other guy stole him away from me when I was trying to court him. It wouldn’t be my fault if he came to me while seeing someone else. I will say, I egged him on a little by unzipping my pants and offering a challenge to his dexterity. He wasn’t able to maneuver his foot into the opening. Then he tried using his hand, reaching far under the table. When I felt the waitress noticed the under the table horseplay, I got embarrassed and told him to put his shoe back on.

We paid our bill and made our way toward the PATH for me to go home. Apparently, he wasn’t done with me. “I’m really enjoying hanging out with you. Let’s grab another drink.” My goal for the first night was to set the bait, not to win him over. I was very cautious with him. He seemed like a wanderer. I didn’t want to take things too fast with him. He was going to have some decisions to make, and I didn’t want to force his hand with excitement. I wanted him to have the time to choose.

We plopped down at the bar at Jake’s Saloon and ordered a round. He placed his hand in my crotch and began groping me a little. I was getting drunk, so I upped the ante slightly. I put my hand down his pants and began groping him as well. He was making an attempt to do the same with me when I stopped him. He wasn’t very good at not being obvious. That’s when my mind began to develop a plan. I suggested we casually use the bathroom. I would go, and he would follow one minute behind. I wasn’t looking to have sex. I was simply thinking a little making out with some heavy petting.

I went into the bathroom stall, and he followed close behind. He began kissing me and unzipped my pants. He suggested “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” We both stood there with our manhood in our hands when he bent down and began licking the tip of mine. It was time to go. I did not want the bartender walking in on us. We put the boys away, zipped up and casually walked back to the bar.

We finished our beers and made our way for the door. I was saying goodbye to him outside the bar because we would be heading in separate directions. I brought up how he was seeing someone else, and I didn’t want to get involved with someone who was involved with someone else. Better judgment was kicking in. I was noticing how his wandering eye would be a problem. If he was willing to dump his current guy for a better model, who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to me. I was proceeding very cautiously. He assured me things with the other guy were already on their way out. He’d had doubts before even meeting up with me. He wasn’t willing to really kiss me, and when I called him on it, his inhibitions dropped a bit. We kissed a lot. I told him he needs to shape up if he wanted to pursue anything with me. Outside all the sexual flirtations, we really did click. We shared a lot in common and the conversation was good. I wasn’t thrilled he was so southern, but I’m sure that would be something I could get over.

There was potential here, but like I said, I was proceeding with caution. He was far from perfect, but I did like him. This wasn’t simply a game of cat and mouse. This was the first time I truly played the game with purpose, but he was the end goal. Only time would tell if anything meaningful would blossom…

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