Posts Tagged bartender
Small Expectations, XL Frustrations
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 13, 2012
For weeks upon weeks, I stressed about Pride Weekend, and it finally arrived. CK wasn’t helping, and it exploded into an argument over the phone, culminating in a temper tantrum on my part.
We were finally able to come to an agreement, and I went back to packing a bag. Needless to say, I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the weekend ahead of me, but my nerves were slightly calmed after my chat with CK.
I made the voyage into the city to head to CK’s apartment. The plan was to head to XL that night. I’m not quite sure why, but none of CK’s friends were joining us that night. We had plans to hang with some of them the following day/night, but we were on our own for XL. I would have preferred to have more familiar faces around me in such an unfamiliar place, but that wouldn’t be the case. I got dressed with a little help from CK, but of course this turned into a bit of a heated discussion. Our nerves were very exposed, and he was encouraging me to expand my wardrobe comfort zone further than I was ready to. I wanted to fit in, but I still wanted to stay true to myself. I didn’t want to dress like everyone else there, however, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t stand out.
As we walked there, I was very quiet. CK and I were holding hands as we walked the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but all I could think about was how I could make myself feel comfortable in this foreign land. As we approached the entrance, there were gay men in every direction. I felt reasonably comfortable with my wardrobe choice and laughed to myself a little at some of the ridiculous outfits. I know this is going to come off as if I saw myself as better than them, but quite the opposite. I give them a lot of credit for feeling so comfortable in their own skin that they dress the way they do, but I could never pull it off. I would feel too uncomfortable and self-conscious, and then I’m absolutely no fun to be around. That was one of my main worries going into this weekend — I would feel uncomfortable, clam up, and I would be no fun to be with.
The cross-dressing boy checked our IDs, and we made our way inside to pay the cover charge. CK had some kind of VIP card and encouraged me to sign up for one with one of the boys holding iPads for just that thing. We paid, and I was a little shocked how expensive the cover was just to get in. Obviously, it was cheaper for CK since he was a member, but overall I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t aware of any talent performing that would justify the rate being so high.
As we made our way inside, I needed a drink bad! There were men in every direction, half without shirts on already. This wasn’t my kind of place. I liked the run-down pubs where the bartenders knew my name and they played good music. This, on the other hand, was a scene. We made our way to the bar and ordered drinks from a shirtless bartender who made me feel I needed to go to the gym immediately. I downed my first drink pretty quickly. The only way I would survive this would be with some help from some special spirits.
We made our way down to the dance-floor and started dancing and grinding with each other in front of the fog machine. I’m not sure why we didn’t relocate. At one point, I couldn’t breath, let alone see CK in front of me, and his back was pressed against my chest. Directly in front of me was a feast for the eyes. There were go-go boys dancing on the stage wearing very skimpy briefs. Some of the guys had the most gorgeous bodies with cute smiles, and it was hard to divert my attention at times. I even received a text from my old roommate asking me if I wanted to go out. I responded telling him where I was, and he jokingly responded reprimanding me for not inviting him. That’s when I responded with a picture message, to which he said, “Okay. Never mind. I’m good.”
I wasn’t the only one on his phone throughout the evening. CK was on his phone a lot when we were together, so this was nothing out of the ordinary, however, I wasn’t aware of the plans he was making over text. Minutes before he walked through the door, CK informed me the guy from his old building he used to hook up with would be joining us. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. I can be very reasonable, but the idea of hanging out with one of CK’s old hookups didn’t thrill me. It also didn’t exactly seem on the up-and-up since he waited until he was walking through the front door to tell me he was joining us.
When he arrived, CK gave him, who we’ll call Old News, a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was thrilled to see him. I swallowed my pride and extended a hand to shake his. From then on, and for quite some time, CK and Old News were deep in conversation. I felt like a third wheel in my own relationship.
We began to make our way to the bar to get another round. CK and Old News walked ahead of me, and as I climbed the stairs, a guy extended his arm out to shove me out of his way as he passed me. It was so obvious my mind flashed back to my days on the basketball court in junior high. He wasn’t being subtle at all. He was also messing with the wrong guy at the wrong time. I wasn’t about to let this little sh*t get away with it. I was already on edge on so many levels. I gave him a solid shove back in the opposite direction, so much that he stumbled down a stair. When his glance came back up to meet mine, I looked at him in a way of saying, “Go ahead. Bring it! What you got?” Me being 6′ 2″ and him being about 5′ 7″, he immediately turned and walked the other way.
When I got to the bar, of course CK and Old News were ordering and didn’t quite notice I was lagging behind. I understand the need to catch up, but I felt I had no part in the conversation. After I was handed my drink, I felt so outside the conversation, I simply walked away and stood at the railing overlooking the dance-floor. It took CK quite some time to even notice I’d stepped away.
From then on, Old News was attached to us. When we went to the bathroom, he came. When we danced, the circle was opened up to him. I didn’t think we would ignore him for the rest of the night, but I felt like he always made sure to put himself between myself and CK. I was shocked and happy to say, I was actually having a great time with CK before he arrived. We were dancing shirtless and taking pictures in front of the fog machine and on stage. I finally felt comfortable in this new setting. I was no longer concerned with anyone else’s eyes on me. My only slight concern was CK’s eyes on anyone else. My whole mood went to sh*t the minute this intruder arrived. I wasn’t just dealing with being at the club anymore — I was having fun, but now I was back to being miserable again. I tried to be cordial with him, but I was not happy with his presence. He and CK hooked up at one point, and while CK assured me they were just friends, I was never quite sure Old News fully got that memo. I could tell he still had feelings for CK. He was very flirtatious, and took every opportunity to exclude me when possible.
In the middle of the night, a crazy drag queen named Ebonee Excell came out and performed. It was a welcome distraction. When the go-go boys came back out on stage, I recognized one of them from the Meet Me at the Ice Cream Truck music video.
Finally, our night was coming to an end. We were ready to head home. CK was hungry for sex, so we said our goodbyes to Old News and made our way back to CK’s bed. Old News may have garnered CK’s attention throughout the night, but in the end, I got to go home with him. He was my man! But, neither of us were quite expecting what was to come next…
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Lazy Saturday
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 1, 2012
Even though we had no plans, and it was a lazy Saturday, CK and I finally got motivated to make moves. Hip was on his way back to Brooklyn, and I needed to make my way back to my place at some point. I didn’t have anything with me for a Saturday afternoon or Saturday night. I hadn’t been home in a while, and I needed to get my bearings.
We got our act together and finally made our way to Hoboken. We lounged around my apartment for a little while before we were invited to a barbecue at D and K’s. I asked CK if he wanted to hit it up for dinner. Either way, we needed to eat. This would be a cost/time effective way to grab a bite. Of course we took our sweet old time and found time to cuddle and fool around a little. In the end, we wouldn’t have to cook, and I would gather some food from my fridge to take over. I had a few fillet mignons in the freezer, so I grabbed them and we made our way the few blocks.
There was a small crew already gathering. As we entered, we said hello to everyone. I was noticing how welcoming my friends were to CK as well as how integrated CK was in the group. This brought a smile across my face. He wasn’t shy and quiet and huddled in the corner. I didn’t need to hold his hand through every outing. He would strike up his own conversations. He was part of the crew.
We made our way out to the backyard, and everyone helped out in typical fashion. Some people manned the grill, others poured water, others began bringing supplies downstairs, and others over-manned the grill. D always flipped out on the people who insisted on opening the grill lid and flipping things too many times. I learned long ago, when you are at another man’s abode, he is the king of the grill. You do not touch that thing unless you are requested to. I was thrilled to not be manning the grill considering in previous years, all the barbecues were at my apartment since I was the only one with outdoor space.
When the food was ready, we all gathered around the table to eat. We poured cocktails and enjoyed the food. I looked around at all of my closest friends and my man sitting next to me, and all I could do was smile. CK turned to me and said, “What?” I told him, “I’m just so happy!” He smiled back and stroked my knee as we both leaned in for a kiss.
While we ate, everyone began chatting about their plans for the evening. CK and I had a discussion not long ago about having better lines of communication. We weren’t going to put each other on the spot to make public decisions. I was very conscious of this as they all chatted. I told them we hadn’t decided what we were going to do yet so we could talk. “We haven’t even thought about what we want to do tonight yet. We got up late this morning. We may head back into the city, but we don’t know…” I added. I wanted CK to feel this was a pressure-free decision. We would talk about it when we got back to my place. If he wanted to stay in Hoboken, we would stay. If he wanted to do something else, I was game. Obviously, I was leaning toward sticking around Hoboken for a pub night with my friends, but I’m not so sure CK was thrilled with the idea.
In the end, we to stayed in Hoboken. It made sense too, because K invited us to her parent’s lake-house the following morning. Everyone was headed to one of my favorite bars, Cooper’s Union. I was happy to go there since the bartender takes good care of me and my friends. CK had to borrow a teeshirt since he didn’t pack anything to go out for the night, but he looked great and totally fit the part. When we got there, no one was playing shuffleboard, so I suggested we hit that up. CK seemed to be moping a bit. While I’m sure hanging out in a pub with my friends wasn’t his ideal situation, he didn’t offer up an alternative.
As the night went on, CK began to liven up. We made our way to McSwiggans for a few drinks and to dance in “our spot.” Every time a big group of my friends and I head there, we take over the only spacious part of the bar and form our own dance circle. Nobody is bustin’ a move, but we all move around, make fun of each other and have fun while we drink. I never truly felt comfortable there being publicly affectionate with CK. I wasn’t hiding my affections for him, but I certainly wasn’t making them obvious. We were never making out on the dance-floor, but we did dance together and have our arms around each other periodically. I could feel the eyes on me from time to time, but I learned to look past them. CK taught me that. I no longer cared what others thought. I was with the man that made me happiest, and that was nothing to be ashamed of.
When a few of the girls were tired of dancing there, they suggested we head next door to the Shannon. I was adamantly opposed to this. I hadn’t been there in over two years, and for good reason. That place was never anything I enjoyed. We entered, and it was like a porthole to the Jersey Shore. Shockingly, CK was having a blast. I told him of the similarity to the bar and the Jersey Shore, and he added, “If this is what it’s like, let’s go!” You could have knocked me over with a feather. I’d had a blast at The Shore, but I never expected him to want to go. I was blown away, however I was also thrilled to see him having such a good time.
I know we weren’t out with his friends and it took a little more effort on his part to hang out at the bars I liked going to, but none of that went unnoticed. I witnessed the sacrifice and the effort, and it made me love him even more. When we were finally exhausted, we made our way home to my apartment. We were already invited to hit up the lake the following day, so we needed to get to bed at somewhat of a decent hour so we could wake up in time to go.
Both of us were hoping my roommates were away so we could have our own raucous party — In my bed. Sure, we had a hot night in his bed the night before, but we were on a roll. Great sex was inevitable, and that night, it certainly didn’t disappoint!
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When It Rains, It Pours
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 1, 2012
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…
Life was good. I finally met a man who seemed to be too good to be true. We’d already been on three unforgettable dates, and things were only getting better.
Saturday morning, I said goodbye to Clark Kent when I dropped him off in the city. I wanted to spend every waking minute with him, but things were still fresh and young for us. It’d only been a week. I needed to stop my habit of diving in head first, or I could be in for a world of hurt. Saturday night, I made plans with friends to go out. One of the guys I swam with in college asked me to come by to pregame and then go to the bar with him and some other friends. It’d been months since a request like that came in, so I was ready and raring to go. By the time I got ready to go out after running all my errands, they moved things to the bar. I met the group at Black Bear in Hoboken. These friends are serious triathletes, so they never go out, and when they do, they go to bed early. I also encouraged my other friend P to join us.
When I got to the bar, I sent CK a text to see what he was up to. He responded by telling me to come into the city and spend the night with him. Had he texted me a half hour earlier, I probably would have never entered the bar and would have gone straight into the city. I stepped outside to call him and explain. I really wanted to go see him since I couldn’t get enough of him, but P had just arrived. I didn’t want to ditch her. He fully understood. A small part of me wanted to ensure he wouldn’t get tired of me, so I thought some time apart would do us good.
I went back to the bar and had a good time with my friends. In true fashion, a half hour later, all but P made their way home to go to bed. It wasn’t even midnight yet. I told her all about CK and how amazing he was. I also told her about how I’d ended things with all the other guys. She kept asking things like, “Well, what about [X]? I thought you had a good date?” I explained to her that none of these guys were like my Superman. They didn’t measure up at all. She was impressed with my conviction and wished me luck, but she warned me not to get too far ahead of myself. P and I decided to go to another bar we enjoyed far more, Cooper’s Union, where we sit and chat while our favorite Hoboken bartender serves us.
Just as we were about to leave the bar, it started pouring. We agreed to call it a night instead. She hopped in a cab, and I made my way down the street home. I didn’t get far before I decided to run. I ripped off my soaking wet shirt and ran on my Cole Haans the dozen blocks home. When I got home, I texted CK to tell him about my “TV commercial-like sprint in the rain home.” (The Nike technology in Cole Haans really is amazing btw!). He responded back telling me how much he wished he’d seen me. He told me he was turned on by the mental picture. I achieved my goal. I knew exactly what I was doing when I sent that text to him. I wanted him to want me.
Sunday, I talked to CK, and we made plans for me to spend the night in the city. It made sense since he was so close to my office. I could bring clothes for work the next day and head straight there in the morning.
As the day progressed, the weather deteriorated. It was pouring. I made my way to his place around dinnertime soaked to the bone. I had my giant umbrella with me, but water-soaked my pants from the ground up. He stripped me of most of my clothes when I arrived, and we began fooling around immediately. This, of course, led to sex and some hot, sweaty fun.
I was happy to be spending a rainy night in with him. We had no plans and no obligations. We were simply going to cuddle in his apartment and watch something on his iPad. He offered to make me dinner, and I accepted. He told me his cooking abilities were limited, but he would whip up his specialty for me. I heard a lot going on in the kitchen while I sat in his living room. He wouldn’t let me help. He wanted to surprise me. When I came into the kitchen to give him a hug and kiss, I got my kiss but was ordered back to the couch.
Moments later, he brought me a plate full of salad with chunks of chicken and a tasty dressing. It was very good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. That night, I would also learn of CK’s sweet tooth. We weren’t even done our salads before he was talking about dessert. He didn’t have anything in the apartment, but there was a bodega on the block. We would venture out into the rain to satisfy a craving for sweets. He offered for me to stay in the apartment and stay dry, but I insisted on coming with him.
We picked up Oreos, ice cream and some cheddar bread sticks and made our way back out into the rain. I was tempted the whole walk back to ask him to hold the umbrella while I ripped my shirt off and ran back to his apartment in the rain. The only thing that stopped me was that I’d have to stand in front of his doorman with no shirt on until he caught up, and I thought it might embarrass him. I chickened out! I was so disappointed in myself. I wanted to show him I didn’t take myself too seriously.
When we got back to his apartment, we dove into the ice cream and Oreos. He made each of us a bowl, and we cracked open the bread sticks. We sat in bed, and when we finished, we cuddled in front of his iPad watching Smash. Shortly thereafter, I dozed off in his arms. It was a perfect rainy night, and I truly looked forward to many others with him while I dreamed the night away.
The next morning, we fooled around before getting ready. While I showered, he made me a bowl of yogurt, fresh berries, honey and granola. It was delicious. He was really taking care of me.
Every moment made me fall for him more and more. We walked to my office together before he hopped on the subway, and I made my way inside. I was head over heels, and things were just starting. The possibilities were endless, and I planned to explore them all…
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Meeting the Hatfields
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 18, 2012
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…
Southern Drawl was very anxious to see me. Before our last date ended, he asked me, “So, when do you get to see me again?” It was a bit egotistical, but it was also a little cute.
I had plans with other guys for the rest of the week with the exception of my volleyball game on Thursday. We agreed to do happy hour after work on Friday to get the weekend started off right. He was going to the Frying Pan, a permanently parked barge on the Hudson River that doubles as a restaurant/outdoor bar, with a group of his coworkers. Apparently, he was comfortable enough to introduce me to them.
He was already there when I made my way across town to meet him. He worked right across the street, so there was a solid crowd present from work. I found them in the crowd and pulled up a chair to the table. Everyone was very welcoming and nice. They immediately offered me a cup of sangria, and I settled in. I joined the big conversation, and Southern Drawl and I had a few side conversations not meant for the table.
I wasn’t sure to what extent he was out to his coworkers, so I played a vague roll. I didn’t show any signs of affection or do anything that would be a severe tell. I had a good time.
When everyone was ready to go, we started walking. We were heading to his apartment, but we walked with the others until they peeled off to head in separate directions. It was then I was informed that this was a big deal. None of the other guys he dated had met his coworkers. Only one or two of them knew he was gay, so this was somewhat of a public coming out. I’m sure his coworkers would put two and two together if he was inviting a man to join them for drinks. It was flattering he was willing to do that with me.
Since before I met S.D. in person, I’d learned of his incredibly flamboyant and promiscuous roommate. We talked about him to quite an extent on the walk.
I could not have been prepared for his apartment when I walked in there. It was an utter dump! His roommate was lounging on the couch when we arrived. S.D. needed to change before we went out for the rest of the evening. I chatted a bit with his roommate, and he certainly had a strong unwarranted air of superiority. We didn’t get along, but we didn’t clash either. He was a non-entity to me.
Meanwhile, I made a comment about S.D.’s shoes, and I was ripped a new one. He went off on me how expensive they were and how dare I downplay them. I was dying to get out of that apartment, and S.D. was dragging his feet.
He told me his friends from back home in the south were going to be out on the Lower East Side since one of them worked at Brother Jimmy’s. We decided to pick a place in the neighborhood to grab dinner before drinking our faces off. We found a nice Italian restaurant, Pete’s Tavern and shared a delicious pleasant meal. Things were starting to feel comfortable with him. All the awkwardness melted away. We had great conversation and kept each other on our toes. The conversation was great, but I began to wonder if I was sexually attracted to him. When he sent pictures to me, I found him to be quite attractive, but since being with him, I didn’t get excited or aroused by him. We hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, but I wondered if when I came to that bridge, would I even want to cross it. On top of that, we hadn’t discussed positions since we first spoke on the phone. He told me he didn’t have much experience in the bedroom originally. He said he never really bottomed, but he may be willing to experience it. Since then, I got a different picture learning about the long-term relationships he’d been in. I wondered if they were sexless, or was he lying. We were two tops, and that was going to pose a problem as some point.
After we finished dinner, we walked to Brother Jimmy’s to meet his friends. He was excited to introduce me to them. They’d already seen pictures of me and predicted I was a far better man for him to date than the one he just let go. They already loved me before even meeting them, so it was my game to lose.
S.D. introduced me to them, and we hit it off pretty swimmingly. His best friend, a female, pulled me aside to talk and gossip. We chatted, and she expressed how much she liked me. “You’re just the right amount of gay,” I was told. I’d always thought that about myself, but it was still interesting hearing someone say this to me. Even the friend, the girl who was working behind the bar planted a kiss on me, right on the lips. It was a pleasant surprise. I was a hit!
S.D. also told me his friend from work, “his little buddy,” was joining us. This kid was gay and even lived with S.D. on the couch for a period. They were very close and best friends of sorts. When this kid arrived, I was introduced to him. He seemed very nice, and we exchanged small talk. Almost immediately, S.D. and he separated from the group and began chatting the night away. It was obvious to me S.D. had a crush on him. I wondered if the little guy just wasn’t interested in S.D. and that was the hangup for why they weren’t together. I felt incredibly neglected. I was getting quite drunk, and that usually peaks my emotional state. I was very close to walking out the door and going home without a word but better judgment kicked in.
After we watched someone who looked like Snookie do an amazing rendition of Adele for karaoke, I was ready to go home. I was drunk, and I was trying to see past how he ignored me. Even after all I drank, the bartender charged me seven dollars. I’m still not 100% sure why, but I asked S.D. if he wanted to come back to my place and spend the night. I think I wanted to test our sexual chemistry. I wasn’t looking for sex. Clearly that wasn’t possible in the state I was in. I just wanted to get somewhat physical with him.
We made out way back to my place and quietly made our way to my room. We climbed into bed to spoon, and I passed out quickly.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke up in the morning, we started spooning and fooling around. There was a lot of heavy petting and oral pleasuring. It wasn’t long before he was straddling my chest fondling himself. It also wasn’t long before he excited himself so much he finished right on my chest. He asked for my permission, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen almost immediately.
We lounged in bed for some time before I made us breakfast. There was a bit of a schedule for the morning, however. My parents were coming into town for Easter weekend. I needed to get him out of there before they arrived. Just as we finished eating, I got a call from my parents. They were downstairs. I told S.D. to quickly get dressed and make his way down the back stairwell. He was fine with this, and we agreed we’d chat later on the phone. I hustled him out the door and kissed him goodbye.
One minute later, I threw on flip-flops and went down to greet my parents. They didn’t make a single comment about the guy leaving my building. I had yet another celibate weekend in front of me, and this was a good thing.
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Southern Drawl
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 11, 2012
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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Hard Candle Shell
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 28, 2012
After realizing PR wasn’t the one for me, I was ready to move on. I liked him a lot, but I felt we’d be sacrificing ourselves to stay together, and that’s not fair to either of us.
I had been talking to a cutie with glasses on OKCupid for a little while before finally asking him for his number and ultimately to go out for a drink.
Wednesday night after work, we made plans to meet down near his neighborhood for some cocktails. I let him pick the place, and he told me where to meet him. When I arrived to the corner where he was, he immediately came off as shy. We shook hands and introduced ourselves, which always feels forced and awkward for me. I sometimes wonder if a hug may be more appropriate considering we’re about to embark on a date, but I never have the guts to go in for it from the start.
We walked towards the bar he had in mind while we struggled to make small talk. I asked him about his day and how work was. In turn he asked the same questions, and I detailed my boring day at the office.
Finally, we arrived at the establishment, The Dove Parlour and took our seats on two bar stools on the corner of the bar. We ordered our drinks and returned to our awkwardly forced conversation. Again, we returned to the topic of work. Every question I asked him was returned with a quick short response. It was like pulling teeth to keep the conversation going. There were long periods of silence I wasn’t sure how to deal with.
When we finished our second drink, the bartender approached and asked if we’d like another. This is where I failed miserably. This is why I’m too nice. I defaulted to him, expecting him to have felt as awkward as I did, but instead, he asked for another round. I was shocked. Did he think this date was going well? How could he?
I sat there and struggled to find a subject to continue to talk about over the next round of drinks. I was ready to leave, but I felt I’d be rude. I was in for another night of wasting my own time due to my lack of confidence to say, “I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to go.”
I ended up staying for two more rounds — Four in total. Things were slowly improving. As the drinks passed his lips more words finally came out the opposite direction. He was finally starting to hold a real conversation. The topics were nothing exciting, but at least it was bearable.
By the end of our fourth round, he wanted a kiss. He moved in to make a move, and I allowed it. It’d been a while since a man kissed me, but I wasn’t entirely weak in the knees from it. He really did have soft lips and was a good kisser, but that didn’t negate the fact that our date was not going well.
He beckoned me to change stools so we weren’t straddling the corner. He wanted me to be closer. At this point, he wanted a makeout session. I wasn’t having any of that. I don’t make out in bars (not unless I’m hammered and don’t know any better, and the last time I did that was with a woman).
I told him I thought it was bad manners to make out at the bar. I pointed out how it always turns into a spectacle, especially when it’s two men kissing each other. He pointed out the lack of people in the bar and asked if I wasn’t comfortable with my sexuality in public. I pointed out if he was a woman, I’d feel the same way. There’s never a need to make out at the bar. Take it outside. This was going to be a point we differed on, because he did not stop attempting to convince me to lock lips. This is when I basically told him to back off. It wasn’t going to happen.
When we were ready to leave, he decided to walk me to the PATH — The complete opposite direction of his apartment. He was going to take a cab home and mentioned something about his supervisor paying for it.
When we got to the PATH station, he took the opportunity to pin me against the fence so he could have his makeout session. Again, I’m too nice and too accommodating, but at least he was a good kisser. It was an amazing change of pace from the night before, in which my “date” tried to eat my face.
Finally, I pulled back and said goodbye. He mentioned his desire to meet again in the near future, and I left that door open for possibility (seeing the too nice trend beginning here). When I got to the other side of the Hudson, I had a text waiting for me: “In spite of being terrified, I had a really good time! Hope to see you soon!” I simply responded, “Terrified?” “Oh, I have panic attacks before dates,” he added.
I didn’t respond, but in the morning, I had another text waiting for me: “Those French Lavenders (the drinks he was having) pack a punch. Sorry :/” I simply put his mind at ease and said, “No worries.” That would be the last I would hear from him. I was happy to skip all the awkward texts and requests. He simply took the hint I wasn’t interested and moved on…
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Gym Hottie
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 14, 2012
Since my breakup with Smiles, I’ve been making greater efforts to spend more time with friends. I didn’t neglect them while I was dating him, but I certainly didn’t shower them with attention either. They’re very important to me, and I wanted to make sure they knew they were appreciated. Of course, I also just loved hanging out with them, otherwise they wouldn’t be my friends.
One of my old roommates asked me if I wanted to go out to the bar. It’d been a long time since he’d done this. It came quite out of the blue, but I was very happy for the invitation. Since we don’t live together, we get along much better. It wasn’t that we fought all the time while we lived together or anything. It’s just much simpler now. I look forward to bar nights with him.
At the same time, one of the girls who I know from my annual Martha’s Vineyard trips was planning a birthday gathering the same night a block from my office. I asked my old roommate if he minded going there for happy hour. I thought it would make things convenient so I could spend time with both. It’d been a long time since I caught up with both friends.
My old roommate and I arrived at the bar early. We made our way through the crowd at Gingerman to the bar to order some beers. I offered to pick up the first round, as I generally do. I handed him his beer and we cheersed. It was at that moment I learned it was his birthday. I had no idea until he said something. I felt like such a sh*t. He was a close friend, and I was usually up on that sort of thing. I have everyone’s birthday in my phone, so I checked to see how I missed the date. It turned out I didn’t have his birthday in there, but with more investigation, I had scheduled it a month later on the same date. I told him how bad I felt, but also added, “At least I offered to buy the round! Haha.” He laughed and quickly forgave my mistake. I thought about it for a second, and realized I was the only one meeting him for drinks. I was the one he wanted to spend his birthday with. I was touched and happy.
We stood by the door because it was the only place we could stand, drink and have a discussion. He told me his plans to go to Atlantic City that weekend for his birthday with a busload of people. I wished him luck since it sounded like such a complicated situation.
After some time, the birthday girl arrived. She came in and gave me a big hug. I introduced her to my old roommate, and we quickly caught up. She decided to make her way to the back of the bar to see if she could grab a table when the bouncer chased us away from the front door. My old roommate and I had already been back there and knew there were no tables, so I let her find out for herself after telling her that. He and I made our way to the front corner of the bar. Just as we did, a couch opened up. I texted the birthday girl to come join us. About ten minutes later, she finally did and brought the rest of her group over.
I talked with my old roommate as more and more people filtered in. It was becoming an intimate little circle. I introduced him to everyone that joined that I knew. When the evening was dragging on, I decided I was read to head home. I had to take equipment home from work, so I was going to book a car service from my office. I invited my old roommate to join me since he still lives in Hoboken as well, and he accepted. I pointed out how I bought all his drinks and provided him a ride home, proving I wasn’t a bad friend who forgot his birthday after all.
We said goodbye to the birthday girl and the rest of the group. She pulled me aside and told me how cute he was. I explained to her he wasn’t a love interest. I pointed out how she’d met him at my Christmas parties, as well as his girlfriend. She was so confused, but I realized what happened. He was guilty by association. Because he was sitting on the couch with me, and because of my status as a gay man, everyone who knew this bit of information also assumed he was gay as well.
As we walked to the car, I pointed out to him what happened. Even though there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, I apologized to him for it. He was oblivious to it, and he laughed it off.
That night, I also had to say goodbye to another ex-roommate. He was still a good friend and tennis partner. He was moving to San Francisco for work, which meant I would probably see him once a year like my other San Francisco friends. I was very sad to see another friend go. Slowly but surely, all my friends were moving away or pairing up and falling off the face of the earth. I know this is part of getting older, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.
My sister and I went to the bar where he and his friends were gathering. It was nice to get to see him since it had been so long. He’d been quite busy with his new job, but now I’d see even less of him. After I got to chat with him for a bit, I texted my other friends, D and his girlfriend and asked what they were up to. They wanted to meet up for drinks, so we decided to go to Cooper’s Union, where I know the owner and bartender.
We met them there, and the whole lot of us wasn’t charged for a single drink the entire night. He always took great care of me and my friends when he worked at my usual watering hole. Now that he branched off and opened his own bar, the attention only got better.
I had a great time with everyone that night. I got to see so many of my friends. Normally I’m too lazy to do any of these things. I always bail last minute out of selfishness, but I was trying to be better about it. It was already paying off. I had a really great time.
In the middle of all this, a gorgeous man walked into the bar. I’d seen him many times before. I’d actually seen quite a bit of him as well. He was a usual at my favorite bar, and he was a usual at my gym in the city. Apparently we both lived in Hoboken, and we both worked in the same neighborhood. I’d had a crush on him for a looonnnggg time, but had a very strong feeling he was straight. He was still gorgeous and fun to look at.
At the same time, I noticed he caught my sister’s eye as well. It’s ironic, but we have the same taste in men periodically. We both acknowledged shared interest in him, but I pointed out to her it wasn’t even worth a battle. She’d already won. There was almost no question in my mind he was straight “How do you know?” she asked. “I can just tell. But, I can also tell you he looks great with no clothes on — At least from the backside anyway,” I added. We both laughed and she continued to ogle him from afar. I did as well, but I was much more discreet about it.
When I was tired and it was time to go home, I gathered everyone to make our way home. Of course I wasn’t going to walk out without paying. I gathered cash from everyone and handed him a wad of cash before walking out the door.
I had a great night. I saw a lot of my friends in one night, I got to scope out a hottie I’ve had my eye on, and I had cheap drinks. Maybe single life was working out well for me. Maybe it was time I tried that for a while… Maybe not…
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Keeping His Options Open
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 23, 2012
Well before I met Smiles, I had been chatting with a guy I met on Grindr for some time. He was a feisty one, and I had a hard time locking him down for a date.
One thing you should know about me. If you ever give me your number, count on me having it forever. I don’t delete anyone. Whenever I add someone new from Adam4adam.com, Grindr, Manhunt or OKCupid, I note in their name how I met them. I ask them immediately to send me a pic to attach to the profile so I can keep them straight. If I meet them and don’t think there is potential or I find they aren’t worth my time, I add an X in front of their name so they go to the bottom of my contact list. It’s a system I’ve developed, and it works quite well.
When I broke up with Smiles, I went back through all the guys I hadn’t Xed. It certainly wasn’t a long list, and I’m sure the guys had long forgotten about me. However, it was worth a shot. I had nothing to lose. I’d simply remind them who I was. If they were still interested, great! Mr. Feisty was among this company.
Surprisingly, when I reminded him of who I was, his tone was very different from the last we texted. He was much more open to meeting me and far more playful than three months prior. We got caught up on what was going on over the past three months over text.
I did learn that he met someone in December, and they’d been dating since. However, he was willing to meet up for a drink as friends.
Now, I know he said we’d meet as just friends, but that’s not what he really meant, I’m sure. He was keeping his options open. He wanted to manage my expectations going into our “date,” but he was also leaving himself the opportunity if he liked me to see me again. I was okay with all this and was certainly up for the challenge. My game face was on. Now we were introducing something into the dating game I’d missed from my life since I swam in college — Competition. I could put up a fight with the best of them. I was going to show him how great of a guy I was, and he was going to like it.
He’d been traveling that weekend, and I happened to catch him on his way back into the city in the car from south Jersey. We went back and forth for quite some time. I was once again shocked at the night-and-day difference in his correspondences from the last time we chatted. We figured out a night to grab a drink after work. I went down to meet him in the West Village at Jeffery’s Grocery.
When I arrived, he was wearing a baseball cap and no glasses. This was quite different from the picture he’d sent me. The reason I kept trying to talk to him so much was because the picture was very sexy. I found him very attractive. The man standing before me was attractive, but not like the picture.
We both ordered a beer. He’d chosen one of those odd places that has beers on tap I’d never heard of. I had no idea what color my beer was going to come in. The conversation was tough to break into. He wasn’t being very friendly. If anything, he was being combative. I got the feeling he was being defensive the whole time like he was getting a bad review at work. He never added much to the conversation. He would answer my question fully, but never sparked the next topic of conversation. It was very uncomfortable.
At one point the topic of Facebook came up. He went off! To say he hates it is an understatement. He loathes it, and made it quite known. But, somehow me managed to spare me from being a part of the idiots whining about their lives on there. Somehow I wasn’t one of the, and I wasn’t supposed to be insulted. I respected his opinion of the site, but he didn’t respect mine. He just seemed so angry. I was so turned off and couldn’t wait to leave.
We talked about the dating world. Usually on a date when you start to talk about the physical act of dating, you’ve reached the end. There’s nothing to talk about between you anymore. If you reach this topic, it’s because the only thing you have in common is that you’re doing this with many other people who it didn’t work with either. He told me about a few of his long-term partners. I was jealous he was able to find guys he could call his partner — and more than one. I told him about my worst date ever (until this one), and he couldn’t believe I didn’t leave. He told me he wouldn’t have had the patience to last five minutes with the guy.
However, it was obvious he wasn’t interested in me. That was evidently clear when the bartender asked if we’d like another, and he said he was done. This date wasn’t even entertaining. It was simply painful. I got absolutely nothing out of it beyond the knowledge I wanted nothing to do with this guy.
We paid our tab and left. We were heading in the same direction, so we walked together a block, said our goodbyes, and I walked away never looking back…
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Night of Surprises
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 29, 2011
After an attempt to make lunch plans, Smiles and I were striking out to find time to get together after a week apart.
I told him I was heading home for the night and was about to leave work. However, I was pleasantly surprised to get the text, “Meet me for a drink at Extra Virgin. I haven’t heard from [my friend] confirming dinner yet, so I’m guessing it will be closer to 8:00 or he will flake.” I wasn’t thrilled with being second choice/fall-back, but I knew this was a friend he hadn’t seen in years who was in the city from L.A., so I was understanding.
I agreed to meet him and texted him when I arrived at the restaurant. “Oh goodness. I’ll be there in 10. Btw, I forgot I have a call from 6:00 – 6:30. My life is a pain-in-the-ass sometimes,” was the response I received. It didn’t help I was already feeling like an afterthought. Now I was learning the little time I had to spend with him was going to be interrupted by a half hour phone call.
I’d already been waiting for him for 15 minutes before he arrived. We exchanged a quick peck and a hug, and he suggested I could go inside while he made the call. I told him I could occupy myself outside while he took care of business.
While he talked with his movie team about next steps with their film, I sat on my phone playing with every app I could think of to pass the time. I checked my WordPress stats. I answered emails. I read everyone’s Twitter post that day. Anything I could do to keep busy.
When he finished his call, we grabbed a seat at the bar. The bartender was struggling to harvest a pomegranate, so I offered to help her. Smiles pointed out my culinary experience and told her she was in for a real treat. She was all too happy to receive my advice, as this was one chore she abhorred. After running to the restroom to wash my hands, I demonstrated for her how she could save herself some time and energy. She was very appreciative of my advice and thanked me.
Smiles and I placed our drink orders. We chatted over drinks on the spinning stools. I made it a point to turn my stool so I was facing him and our legs were interlocked. I heard all about his holiday on Long Island and the craziness he went through upon his return with his client. I told him about my relaxing trip home, my dysfunctional family, my Black Friday adventures, and my slow day at work.
At one point he had my his arms extended with his hands on my thighs rubbing them. He flippantly made the comment, “I love your big manly legs.” This was the first time he’d ever complimented my physically, so I took notice. He continued to rub them and massage them, and I continued to melt inside.
At that moment, he checked his phone and learned his friend wouldn’t be able to do dinner that evening, so they agreed upon breakfast the following morning.
With that, he turned to me and asked if I’d like to get dinner somewhere. Surprised, I told him, “Well. We’re already here. Why don’t we just eat here.” I was expecting to get the boot at any moment throughout the course of the evening, but instead I was extended a dinner invitation. Once again, I was happy to get to spend time with him.
We quickly placed our dinner orders and continued our conversation. Our dinner was very pleasant, and our meals were excellent. After we finished eating, we split the bill and began to walk down the street.
As per usual, when we reached the crossroad between his place and the PATH, we said goodbye. And, as per usual, it was said with a simple kiss and a gentle squeeze. I pulled him back in for another kiss and made it more than a peck. He smiled, and we said goodbye.
When I got back to Hoboken, on my walk to my apartment, I texted, “Mmmmmmm. I like you. You make me happy… Just felt the need to say that…” He responded twenty minutes later, “Awwww. 🙂 Thank you.” Clearly, he didn’t feel confident to reciprocate the sentiment just yet, which stung slightly, but then again, I already knew I was ready to move faster than was…
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Great Story, No Climax
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 12, 2011
Things weren’t exactly progressing smoothly in my mind between Smiles and I. In fact, things weren’t progressing at all when I come to think of it.
Instead of abandoning my relationship with him, I decided to put forth greater effort to ensuring its success. I’m not one to quit without a fight, so when Smiles texted me to ask how my day was going, I was quite elated. I told him it was going well and was anxious for work to be over. We made plans to go to dinner that evening after work. I was looking forward to it and was ready to make sure it wasn’t a repeat of our last date.
In turn, I asked him about his day, and he responded with an explanation. I explained I wouldn’t be done work until a little later, and I wasn’t sure exactly what time that would be. One of my coworkers was dragging his feet, and my day was beginning to drag on. It was a Friday, and I wanted nothing more than to see Smiles after a long day.
Smiles was running errands in my neighborhood and called when he was finished. I had a feeling I would be done shortly, but there really was no telling when I’d finish. Smiles occupied himself for some time. When he called again to check in on me, I was able to tell him I was about to be walking out the door. He was about to hit up Barracuda to have a drink with his bartender friends, but instead, we picked a place to meet.
I snuck up on him on the street and startled him with a big hug. We exchanged a kiss and started to walk towards Chelsea. We quickly found a spot to grab dinner. Smiles wasn’t drinking, but I certainly needed a drink. I ordered a glass of wine and took a big swig. I’d been talking up a storm from the time we kissed on the street. I was going to make sure the conversation flowed like a waterfall. He was well engaged all throughout dinner at Bar Baresco. I really felt very comfortable with him and was appreciating his company greater. It was night and day difference from the last date we had. I was realizing why I fell for him in the first place. No awkward pauses. No blank stares.
During my workday, I began drafting plans to build my new closet since I was moving. Smiles had much experience in this sort of thing, so I asked him for advice and to look over my plans. He gave his suggestions, and I appreciated his advice.
When we finished dinner, we hit up Barracuda. Smiles suggested it because he figured we’d say hi to his friends. When we arrived there, we found they weren’t working. Smiles ordered us two drinks. After relieving myself, we found a quiet corner to tuck ourselves in to sit and chat.
We discussed age and the ability to hang. He talked about how he used to be able to go out all the time all night long. We talked about growing older and looking forward to staying in and sitting on the couch on a Friday night.
We were growing even closer. As time progressed, I realized he was growing weary. I asked if he would like to get out of there, and he gladly obliged, but not before we played around with his scarf in about 20 different permutations around his neck and head.
As we walked outside, I proposed coming back to his place with him. He agreed. I thought I was sending a pretty clear signal of my intentions. We walked over to Seventh Avenue to hail a cab to no avail. I was not properly dressed for the weather. I was freezing. The Smiles did one of the sweetest things. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me to keep me warm. I reached up and grabbed his arms and brought him in closer. It was extremely romantic, and I wasn’t about to let this moment run away from me. It took a long time to get a cab, but I was relishing every second.
When we finally hailed one, we hopped in. He extended his hand beckoning for mine. He was winning me over big time! It was a complete 180. I was thrilled with his new-found affections. It painted a clearer picture of his true feelings for me. He was still interested in me. I was thrilled.
When we arrived at his place, he started cleaning. I kept yelling at him to stop. I didn’t care about the condition of his apartment. I would have liked to think of myself no longer as company, and more as companion. He sat on the couch, and I sat on his computer chair facing him while we chatted. After a while, I realized how ridiculous this setup was. I aimed to remedy it. I got up, walked over to the couch, moved the pile of papers from it, and sat next to him. He looked slightly uncomfortable by this, and I couldn’t fathom why.
He suggested we move to the bed. My goal was being accomplished. I was all too happy to move things to the bedroom. We climbed onto his bed. We talked and then began hugging each other. This morphed into spooning.
I was happy and hoping this would progress to sex, but I was sorely mistaken. After spooning for about ten seconds, he had his fill. He was ready to go to bed, and apparently I wasn’t part of that scenario. He went to brush his teeth, and was giving me all the signals it was time for me to go.
We said goodnight and exchanged a kiss at the door. Yet another night without sex. It was an enigma to me. I couldn’t figure him out. He spent the earlier portion of the night being utterly sweet and affectionate, but when it came time to end the night, the sparks were quickly doused.
I wished the night ended on a more positive note. I would have liked to go home a happy satisfied man, but yet again, I was debating in my head Smiles’ attraction to me…
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At the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
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