Posts Tagged Cab
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…
Follow @onegayatatimeA Perfect Weekend
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 20, 2012
PR and I had a lovely dinner and topped out night off with a scary movie marathon. When we were sufficiently scared and tired, we went to bed.
I purposely turned off my alarm that night because there was nothing pressing to wake up for in the morning. We could sleep in and enjoy each other’s company in my uber comfortable bed.
I liked sleeping with PR. We snuggled and cuddled before finally dozing off. He didn’t wake me throughout the night with tossing and turning like so many others do. We slept well together. Of course, in the morning, we shared more than just cuddling or spooning. There was still plenty of snuggling, but things escalated to a new level with the discovery of his matching morning libido. We didn’t have “sex,” as in we didn’t have penetration, but we did just about everything else.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. While our mouths went wild exploring every inch of each other’s bodies while our hands enjoyed the touch of skin in symphony. I was constantly lingering at his back door as well. I was testing his limits. I wanted to see how comfortable he was with me back there.
He even mentioned his interest in bottoming for me, but it wasn’t going to happen immediately. He needed to warm up to it first; rightfully so, considering it’d been years since someone penetrated him. I was willing to be patient. I was just concerned that it would happen at all. His willingness to play ball in down the road was reassuring.
It was late when we finally motivated ourselves to get out of bed. I think it was our grumbling stomachs that finally inspired us to make moves. I cooked us another breakfast while he sat on the island chatting with me. I was getting used to having him around, and I liked it. He was a very caring and sweet guy — A hopeless romantic much like myself.
After we ate breakfast, we cuddled a lot on the couch. I was still horny from the morning romp and started to get frisky, pulling down his shorts and exposing his ass. He was getting a little bashful since we were in front of my apartment widows with the street below, but chances are no one was able to see him. At one point, I even completely removed his shorts. It was cute watching his bashful squirm. I was starting to get off on it.
We decided to go to the gym, so we finally picked ourselves up off the couch and went to the bedroom to get ready for the day (now that it was about 3:00). Of course we didn’t simply get changed and head to the gym. We got frisky once again as I pulled him onto the bed. He certainly wasn’t complaining.
My motivation to have bigger biceps finally overtook my sexual desires, and I suggested we finally get ready for the gym. He went home to change, and I got dressed. He was starting to take a long time, so I told him I’d just see him there — I was on my way.
I nearly finished my workout before he arrived. It was slightly awkward cause I wanted to kiss him when I saw him, but I didn’t want to make a scene. We had plans to go to a Super Bowl party together, so I told him I was going to head home to shower and get ready. I implored him not to doddle since I didn’t want to arrive at the party after the start of the game. He assured me he’d be ready in time.
Once again, he was running behind, but after hopping in a cab, we arrived at the party just in time for kickoff. A lot of my friends were there, so I introduced him to everyone. This was going to be a test. He would he interact with my friends? Would he be outgoing? Would they like him? I care a lot about what my friends think of the guy I’m dating. I was trying out a new strategy this time around. I was introducing him to them much sooner than guys past.
The whole time, I sat next to him on the couch watching the game, I wanted to hold his hand or have him sit in front of me in my arms, but it wasn’t that kind of party. I would keep my hands to myself. I wanted to jump his bones the whole time we were there. I was showing restraint however.
When the game ended, we walked home with D. The majority of the second half, I kept expressing my desire for cake, so we decided to stop at the A&P and grab something. D got some cake as well, and since he lived nearby, we made a pit stop at his place to relieve our bladders and snag a bite of his cake.
PR came back to my apartment to share the carrot cake I bought for us. While we walked, he asked me the most forward question any guy on a date has ever asked me: “Have you ever had any STDs?” I paused for a moment in shock. I indeed did, and it was an embarrassing story. I wanted to know if he equally shared in my shame before I would volunteer that information. He told me he did, so I explained the time I contracted chlamydia. He then recounted the story of the time he got crabs. It was a bizarre but interesting conversation.
While we ate cake, we discussed zodiac signs. We looked up each of ours and checked the compatibility. I don’t believe in that sort of thing, but it was fun and something to pass the time. We moved things to the couch to relax and discussed everything. I told him about all my exs and he told me about all his. We sat there talking until we realized it was 2:00am. I asked him if he was going to stay the night, and he graciously accepted.
Sleeping with him just felt so right. I was happy to have him there. He was a good guy, and I was really enjoying his company. I liked where this was going, but his future was a little uncertain. He was applying for numerous jobs and attempting to figure out a more permanent living solution. For the meantime, we were meshing so well, and I was enjoying every minute of it.
Follow @onegayatatimeConnecticut Cutie
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 12, 2012
Since I’ve been slacking, I’m going to make it up to you this week. Hope you don’t have a busy week, because you’ve got a lot of content coming your way!
For as long as I can remember, I was trying to nail down a date with a specific guy I met on adam4adam.com. He had the cutest smile that could light up a room (in case you haven’t noticed — and I’m just coming to this realization — I’m a sucker for smiles). He messaged a few times on a4a, but nothing ever materialized.
Months passed, but I could never seem to get him to meet me. He’d show a lot of interest, and then he’d disappear for a bit. Like the ocean, it was a constant ebb and flow with him. Finally, I just flat out gave up on him, and I didn’t hear from him again. When I broke up with Smiles, I went back through my saved messages and decided to hit him up and see if this time would be different.
Ironically enough, I learned he moved out of the city. He was originally from Connecticut, and he moved back home with his parents to save a little money. It seemed now he was interested in finally meeting me, just when it would be most difficult. We discussed many evenings as possibilities to grab a drink before we finally found a good day to grab lunch. Even then, we were playing things by ear.
Of course, this didn’t happen. He had to cancel on me. However, he proposed raincheck options. He agreed to meet me for a drink one night after work on his way to Grand Central to hop on Metro North to CT. I did some research to find a bar that would be convenient for both of us. We set a time, and I told him to meet me at Annie Moran’s by Grand Central Station.
I was already having reservations about this guy. Was this how it was going to be all the time. Quick rendezvous before he went home? I finished work before him, so I decided to walk there instead of taking a subway or cab. It was raining lightly, so I broke out my umbrella, however I wasn’t walking alone. I had Grindr to keep me company while I walked. I’m such a whore. I was already looking for the next date before this one even got off the ground. But, it’s what you gotta do if you have an aversion to gay clubs. I stood outside the bar paging through profiles while I waited for him to arrive. He too was walking from work, and he worked about fifteen blocks away.
Just before he walked up, he gave me a call. I told him where I was, and when he saw me he hung up. As he walked towards me, he wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It wasn’t a bad thing; he was just smaller than I originally thought. We greeted each other with a handshake, and with that made our way into the bar. He offered to buy me a drink since I’d been waiting for him. I was in charge of watching our bags and trying to find a piece of real estate to stand/sit and chat.
He came back with the beers, and we dove into conversation. It was slow going at first, going through the standard order of questions. As he talked about his job in fashion, I noticed a bit of flamboyance coming through. I wasn’t thrilled, but it was far from a deal breaker. He was certainly cute (although he looked much cuter in his pictures before he cut his hair shorter).
We talked about family, work, his moving back home, where I live and grew up, commuting nightmares, etc. It was nice. I couldn’t quite tell if he was all that into me. I was starting to think he thought I was too “straight” for him. But, as the conversation progressed, his body language began to change. I realized he may have just been nervous. Once he relaxed, I could tell, he was flirting a little heavier. After the first beer, he asked if I wanted another. I gladly accepted. I figured he was going to dictate the end of the date since he was the one who had to catch a train. He told me all about his curfew and how he’d have to take a taxi if it got past a certain hour; his parents would no longer pick him up.
We talked about watching sports on TV and participating in them. Somehow skiing came up, and I told him my story about the first time I skied and how well I did. When the group next to us lef their table I snatched it, while he got us a third round of drinks. The date was going well, or at least I thought so.
While we sat, he took the opportunity to touch my leg periodically. I love that. It’s a surefire sign of interest. I returned the favor as well. I could tell there was a lot of sexual energy between us as well. We were both feeling it. We talked more about what we do for fun when we’er not working. He told me about his old apartment and how he still comes back into the city to do rotating dinner with friends at their respectful apartments. There were slight awkward pauses, but that can be warranted on a first date.
When he finished his third beer, he told me he had to be running for his train. I thanked him for picking up the tab, and I told him I would pay next time. “If there can be a next time,” I added. I walked him to the doors of Grand Central and said goodbye. He was lingering, and I could tell he wanted a kiss. I wasn’t sure his position on PDA, but I decided to go for it. I wanted a kiss, so I was going to get one. I leaned in with my arm behind his back and gave him a nice quick kiss goodbye. We agreed to find time to see each other again soon as we parted ways.
On my ride home, I took the opportunity to text him and let him know I thought he was cute. He told he had a great time, but also told me how he’d locked himself in the bathroom on the train. It was a really funny story, and I was happy to hear he had such a great sense of humor and easy-going personality. He told me he wanted to grab lunch later in the week, and I agreed. We would figure out a time that worked for us both. I was already looking forward to it…
Follow @onegayatatimeGoodbye to a Closer Long-Distance Friend
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 2, 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…
On Friday, my last night in San Francisco, I made plans with Swinging D*ck to come to my hotel. We talked about grabbing dinner before staying in for the night. However, he casually invited me to come out with him and his friends when he realized he had to go out for a friend’s birthday. I was apprehensive since it was a torrential downpour outside. It hadn’t rained for three months prior, but now it was raining for three straight days. This trip was turning out to be an epic fail.
I graciously accepted his invitation and waited for his call to tell me where to meet them. Hours passed, and I didn’t hear from him. I was all dressed up with nowhere to go. I decided to run out to grab dinner at In-and-Out when dinnertime passed by. That’s when I finally got a text. He told me they were going to Lookout in a bit. He would text me when they were leaving, and I could meet them there.
I ate my burger in my hotel room and made my way outside to hail a cab. Luckily I wasn’t out in the rain too long.
When I arrived, I made my way to the second story bar and began looking for him. After two minutes, and noticing a lot of men scoping me out, I found him in the crowd on the other side of the bar. I walked over and said hi with a big hug. He introduced me to his friends. They were all very nice. I wasn’t sure exactly how much they knew about me.
I ordered a beer before I was told we would be moving on for the night. It was back out into the rain. Apparently, we were headed to a house party for the remainder of the night but not before popping into a liquor store for some beer. We hopped in a cab and made our way to the party.
It was slightly awkward because I was now a friend of a friend of the host. I was hoping everyone would be okay with my attendance. Luckily, only the entrance was slightly awkward. After that, I was in my element. I talked with my friend, his friend, and many other men at the party. It was the biggest sausage fest I’d ever been too. I think there may have been two women there versus the fifty gay men.
I met some interesting people and one very sexy man who looked a lot like Steve Pasquale (Sean Garrity) from Rescue Me. Swinging D*ck is a smoker, and when I drink I’ve been known to smoke the occasional cigarette, so those were nice breaks where we somewhat stepped away from the group and could talk more. He really was a sweet, intelligent guy. I learned a lot about him talking to him on Skype, and I only wanted to get to know more.
The night was beginning to draw to a close. For one, I had a flight to catch in the morning. Secondly, the birthday boy/host was ready to hit up the bars. Everyone was getting kicked out. S.D. told me he had to tell me something when we got outside. We walked away from the party to find a bodega to get him cigarettes. As we did, he took the opportunity to confide a big secret he’d been walking around with.
He pointed out to me how standoffish he was the previous night, how he had to leave early and how he changed plans from coming to my hotel that night. Then he told me all this wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to me — Quite the opposite. The reason was because he was HIV positive.
My heart immediately sank, and not in a selfish way. The compassion I felt for him in that moment was so great, I can’t even begin to explain.
Apparently I know very little about HIV. He told me he’d been “positive undetectable” for a year and a half now. I never heard that term before, but deduced its meaning from its name. I also did the math in my head and realized he contacted it just after he started talking to me on Skype. I put two and two together and realized that’s why he was so depressed when I was talking to him. My heart was breaking for him.
He explained that he is on medication, and the doctor told him he would lead a very normal and full life for the remainder of his time on this planet. I was learning a lot about the treatment for HIV. I realized I needed some education, and I was happy I had someone so amazing to teach me.
A large part of me wanted to cry and give him a big hug because I couldn’t imagine what he was going through all this time since being diagnosed. The larger part of me was upset because he felt he couldn’t just tell me outright from the start.
He didn’t know how to tell me, nor did he want to. He thought I would treat him differently or stop being his friend. I told him he needed to give me more credit than that. He was an amazing guy, and nothing changed between us.
He started to explain his strange behaviors I wasn’t even noticing. When I asked him back to my room, he was very leery because of what might happen, but he still wanted to be with me. So, he agreed. When we were fooling around, he said he was purposely taking more time to please me so I wouldn’t even have a chance to please him. When I went for it, that’s when he really said he had to get going. It wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to me. It wasn’t because he didn’t like me. “I think you’re amazing,” he added. It was because he was scared. I understood completely.
When I asked him to come to my room a second night, he talked to his friend about it. “I don’t know if I can tell him,” he told his friend. His friend told him to do whatever he felt comfortable with. He actually invited me to come out with them that night in an attempt to set me up with his friend. Looking back, I did feel as if I was being sized up as the night progressed. However, I was not feeling him in the slightest.
When we were at the party, he encouraged me to go with the guys who asked me to come with them for some fun because it would get him off the hook. I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in them either, however their compliments were always welcome. 🙂
I never noticed all this, but I jokingly reprimanded him for going through all those charades instead of just telling me as a friend. Of course I would understand. I told him about all my skeletons. I would have hoped he’d feel comfortable telling me his.
We continued to walk to the bar everyone was heading to. He told me about how he contracted it and how bad the situation was. He admitted that’s why he was so depressed when I first started talking to him. It all made sense now.
When we arrived at the bar, it was time for me to say goodbye. I had an early flight, and it was already two in the morning. We talked a little bit more, gave each other a big hug, and made out a little bit. It was hard saying goodbye. I felt we had so much more to talk about. But I needed to go. We kept coming back for just one more kiss before we finally parted ways.
As I walked towards my hotel searching for a cab, I thought about what just happened. My heart was still breaking for him that he had to go through that. I wish I’d known sooner so I could have been there more for him. I was so proud of him for finally finding the courage to tell me. I was starting to think he just wasn’t into me a little bit, but that’s not important. What is important is that I have a friend I love dearly and will always be there for, no matter what happened to him. I just hope he knows that!
Follow @onegayatatimeFinding the Piece of My Heart I Left in San Francisco
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 1, 2012
Wednesday night arrived. It was “date night” for San Francisco and I. We were meeting in the Castro to grab a drink and maybe some dinner together. It had been a while since I’d seen him last, and we were due for a catch up.
Since work was paying, and I was too lazy to learn the public transit system in San Francisco, I decided to take a cab. We arrive in The Castro neighborhood, and I witnessed the largest rainbow flag I’d ever seen in my life. The only thing I could compare it to (for the Americans in the room) is the giant American flags that adorn the poles in the parking lots of Perkins across the country. If you read my blog, you know how much I’m not a fan of the rainbow. However, I’m embarrassed to admit, the sheer size and presence of this thing actually made me a little proud.
I got out of the cab and met him on the street as we exchanged a hug and a kiss. We made our way to Badlands just up the street just in time for some happy hour specials. We caught up on the other’s dating life over the past few months. I learned San Francisco is currently casually dating someone. In the back of my mind, I’m very happy to hear this news. I didn’t want things to escalate beyond drinks for us, and this news was reassuring.
I told him the abbreviated story of Smiles and what I did on New Year’s Eve. He was a little surprised, but certainly didn’t judge.
As the alcohol flowed, his emotions escalated. He became much more affectionate, and even started to get a bit hot n’ heavy. I just went along with it. I had no emotions attached to these actions. I was fully over San Francisco. I tried changing the subject so he wouldn’t keep putting the moves on me.
He talked about the possibility of moving back to New York, but said it would be very different this time around. He’s a completely different person. Everything he was saying were basically the reasons why I ended things with him. It was as if he’d read the blog. (To my knowledge, he still does not know about the blog).
We started talking about his dream of opening a bar in Hawaii. We talked a great deal about even the smallest details in his dream. I suggested a name for his bar, and he immediately fell in love with it. He even went as far as to register the domain immediately from his BlackBerry. I told him how to do all this with my advertising background and knowledge and my recent experience of purchasing my own domain for this blog.
He then brought up the possibility of checking out a drag show that evening, but then he remembered it wasn’t my thing. Instead, he suggested we grab dinner at one of his favorite restaurants.
The meal was spectacular, and it wasn’t that expensive. I was also introduced to one of his friends who is a server there. As the night went on, San Francisco grew more and more inebriated. He wasn’t’ too much to handle yet, but he was drawing closer. He started growing louder and more indignant.
When the bill arrived, I think he thought I was going to take care of it. I think he thinks I have an unlimited expense account (which isn’t the case at all), when in reality I paid for his meal the last time I was out there because I wanted to thank him for hanging out with me that night. We split the check and made our way for the door.
The whole time, I was trying to send a pretty clear signal I wasn’t interested in hooking up that night. I was failing. He asked if we should go back to my hotel or hit up his apartment. Then he answered his own question when he realized how close to his place we were. Again, I just went with it. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t just go home. I think I thought I could get him home and then say goodnight.
While we rode in a cab to his apartment, he asked me about the stuffed animals and orchids he sent me for my birthday. I explained that was over nine months ago. I was lucky I kept the orchids alive for six months. As far as the stuffed animals, I told him I gave the mistaken monkey away, but I still had the bear (of much more significance) at my parents’ house.
When we got to his place, I met his roommate for the first time. One had only seen me on Skype and heard lots about me, and the other had never met me. Ironically, the other share the same unique name as me and joined on as a roommate shortly following our breakup. I’m not going to lie; I thought it was a bit weird.
When we finished tormenting the roommates with S.F.’s drunken antics, we went into his room. It appeared I was spending the night. However, it was just going to be that. I was not having sex with him.
Of course the makeout session ensued. I thought to myself, “At least he’s a good kisser.” Then the makeout session morphed into more passionate actions, and I found myself with no clothes on. S.F. put me in a position to begin to penetrate me, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. I kept casually squirming so it wouldn’t be possible. He kept gently trying, but I wasn’t going to give in. There was no way in hell I was going to have sex with him, but I also knew I was dealing with a drunk man. I gently whispered into his ear, “Let’s just spend the night together.”
With that, he rolled over into little spoon position. I curled up with him and went to bed. In the morning, when my alarm went off for me to head back to my hotel to go to work, I found myself with his mouth on my “morning excitement.” I had forgotten how good he is at that. It didn’t quite matter. I wasn’t in the mindset to finish with him, and we know how difficult that can be even when I am in the mindset.
I got dressed, and he remained in bed. I could tell he was disappointed, but I didn’t care. I was not going to revisit old territory.
I didn’t hear from him until much later the next day. He told me how hungover he was in the morning, proving to me how drunk he was. He asked what my plans were for the remainder of my trip, but we didn’t discuss meeting up again while I was there. I was happy to dodge that bullet.
I let things go further than I wanted, but at least I didn’t hurt his feelings too harshly in the meantime. In my mind things wouldn’t quite be the same for us going forward. No longer did I feel the urge to call him just to chat, which is sad. It appears I have collected what pieces of my heart I left in San Francisco…
Follow @onegayatatimeTo Kiss or Be Kissed
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 7, 2012
Goodbye 2011 and all the hardship that came with it. 2011 was a tough year, and I was ready to kiss it bon voyage.
New Year’s Eve had arrived, and so did Boston. He came to New York City to celebrate with some friends. They were staying at a hotel in Hell’s Kitchen and going to a bar to ring in the new year. We’d been in close contact about meeting up while he was visiting for some time.
We made plans to meet that night before I met Smiles for dinner, however these plans would be broken. As the night’s close grew nearer, Boston realized he wouldn’t have time, so we agreed to try to meet on New Year’s Day.
Instead, I killed time spying on my neighbors across the street with my roommate before venturing into the city for the night. It appeared we’d discovered two ‘mos living over there after some close examination. However, their blinds have been drawn now for quite some time, hindering further “study.”
Smiles and I had been texting about our plan for the evening. We were going to grab dinner somewhere along the way to the party on the Lower East Side, but when he tried to make a reservation for the restaurant downstairs, he realized the difficulty that may pose. Instead he proposed to make beef stroganoff for the two of us at his apartment. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea because I was looking forward to a romantic dinner for two, but it would have to suffice. (Now you can begin to see why I hate New Years).
After we finished eating, we took a cab to the apartment. Smiles spent a good portion of it on the phone with his mother. I’d already made all my new year’s calls on the walk to Smiles’ apartment from the PATH. I didn’t want to be on my phone the rest of the night trying to call people so I got it out of the way before starting our night together. I thought what he was doing was rude. When he hung up, you could cut the tension in the cab with a knife. Neither of us had anything to talk about. The night was not off to a good start.
We arrived at the party and were greeted by a very nice gentleman who was not the host. He was one of the guys Smiles had gone to Six Flags months earlier (whom he didn’t remember without a reminder). A trip I wasn’t invited on and still bitter about. When the host emerged from the shower, Smiles volunteered to run to the corner store to get necessary supplies. Apparently he wasn’t the best of hosts (or so said Smiles). He asked if I wanted to join him or stay and made sure I was okay with staying.
I took the opportunity to get to know the guy who greeted us while I waited for Smiles to return and more guests to arrive. More people joined us in waves, and it was a pleasure to meet them all. I sat on the couch talking to one in particular for some time. He seemed like a really great guy. Later in the night, I would learn from Smiles that this guy told him how great I was after learning we were together. “He had nothing but glowing praises for you,” Smiles divulged.
A majority of the night, Smiles wasn’t paying attention to me. He was far more concerned with standing in as host. He made sure everyone had a full drink at all times, including me. I had to tell him to cool it because I was getting too drunk too fast. I don’t think he realized I was also filling my own drinks besides what he brought me. I was making plenty of conversation with a lot of the other guys at the party in the meantime. Ironically enough, we were talking about dating. I was giving some of the younger guys my “fatherly advice” from my experiences, which is absurd considering I’m out less than two years. I did all this without mentioning my blog once, no matter how much I wanted to direct them to it. Smiles was still unaware I was writing OneGayAtATime.
When the ball was about to drop, the whole crowd gathered around the TV in the host’s bedroom. Smiles asked if I wanted to pile in, but I told him my lack of interest in watching the ball drop. We huddled by the door as Smiles snapped pictures of the group from the doorway. When 2012 arrived, he turned to me and laid a nice kiss on me. When he pulled back, he went in a second time. It was one of his better kisses and it was sweet, but I’m not sure it could make up for the lack of attention I received all night. It was like we were at the same party, but we certainly weren’t together.
As I talked to the other guys, I felt like I was revealing a big secret that Smiles and I were dating. No one knew, and it was as if I was letting the cat out of the bag. I felt uncomfortable about that.
The music came up and the furniture was pushed aside. The living room was now a dance floor. Smiles and I have never gone out dancing together, so I was relishing the opportunity to have a little fun with him. I started dancing with him, and he started laughing at me. It wasn’t completely insulting, but it was also a slightly belittling. I think I was making him uncomfortable (and I am not a bad dancer by any means!).
When I went to refill my drink, Smiles was in the middle of the group dancing up a storm just as I’d seen him bust a move in Central Park. I was hurt. He didn’t want to dance with me, but he did want to dance with everyone else. When I looked down, my cup had only ice in it. So I made the conscious decision to drink away my sorrows. Johnny Walker Black and I huddled in the kitchen and had a good time together.
When someone asked if I wanted to go smoke on the balcony, I jumped at the opportunity. When I got out there, there was a small group including the guy who told Smiles how great I was.
This is where the night gets foggy. There was a guy who was late to the party who was fawning all over me from that point on. He told me I was gorgeous and paid me more compliments than I can remember. I vaguely remember pointing out to him that I was dating Smiles, but that didn’t stop him. He kept laying it on thick.
From that night, the next thing I remember was walking home behind him p*ssed because I was chasing after him. We weren’t walking together. I was walking about ten paces behind him.
Smiles woke me in the morning. I was naked, so I knew we had sex, and I had an uncomfortable moist feeling between my cheeks, so I knew I was the bottom. I thought back and could remember flashes of sex from the night before, but I couldn’t remember anything about leaving the party.
After I searched for my underwear and my dignity, neither of which I could find without assistance, I picked up my phone to check messages. Apparently in my drunken stupor, I wiped out my phone trying to get into it too many times with a failed password. It was back to factory settings.
I told Smiles, and he recounted the walk home. It involved me arguing profusely that we were headed in the wrong direction (Isn’t that ironic). It involved me tapping a French woman on the shoulder and welcoming her to the country. And it involved Smiles being annoyed by my antics.
“And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.
Follow @onegayatatimeHow to Get Out of My Own Head
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 23, 2012
Rules are meant to be broken. Apparently, in my mind this is true. I said I wasn’t going to reach out to Smiles after our awkward night and breakfast the following morning, but that didn’t last long.
Wednesday afternoon, I got an email including two free tickets to a screening of a movie in the city. It was Friday afternoon at 12:30. I had absolutely nothing going on at work as we were leading into the holidays. I shot Smiles a text Thursday afternoon asking him if he wanted to come with me after I left him.
He told me he wouldn’t be able to join me because he had to be on site for a project he was working on. I didn’t get my hopes up, so I wasn’t all that disappointed. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing much of him that weekend, so it was an effort to mend that but a failed attempt at that.
In the middle of the day, he called to see how my day was going. I was a pleasant surprise. He’d done this in the past, but it was out of the blue. He told me about his project moving forward and the progress he was making. I told him how useless my day was turning out to be. Maybe he did care about me. Maybe he just wasn’t good and showing emotions or talking about them. I still had some figuring out to do.
I finished my workday early. When I got home, I called my other friends who were attending the birthday party that night. I coordinated with them, and made my way to my D’s apartment.
During the taxi ride with D and his girlfriend, she asked me when she was going to get to meet Smiles. She missed him at the holiday party. I couldn’t think of a scenario in which she was going to meet him. I realized he never really hung out with me and my friends in general. I never really hung out with his. I was repeating my relationship with Broadway all over again. The only difference was, Smiles had a better schedule than Broadway. In the back of my head, I knew things between us weren’t perfect. I told her I had no idea when she’d meet him. I then explained to her why he was absent from my side.
I had fun at the party. I was running into a lot of people I hadn’t seen in a long time — Some even years. I sat and talked with one of my old college teammates, and he asked him the dating life was going for me. I told him all about Smiles, and he was very happy for me. In the back of my mind, all I could think about was, “Am I truly happy with how things are shaping up?”
Out of nowhere, Smiles called. He was between parties in a cab. I guess he had time to kill so he thought he’d call me. I stepped away from the party and walked out onto the promenade overlooking the city. I appreciated the call. It was nice to have him call out of nowhere twice in one day. It showed he really was thinking about me. I was a little bitter though. He was telling me about all these parties in detail, and all I was hearing was stories of parties I wasn’t invited to. I kept the conversation on the shorter side of things. It was cold outside, and I wanted to get back to my friends. If I wasn’t good enough to be by his side, he wasn’t good enough to steal me away from the party. We said goodbye for the night since I knew that’d be the last time hearing from him for the night.
On the way home that night, I discussed brunch with D and his girlfriend. They expressed their desire to do it in the city. I agreed and mentioned maybe inviting Smiles to join us. I knew he had things going on, but maybe he’d be able to meet us for a little while.
I texted him at 3:00am to see if he would be onboard for brunch. I told him I didn’t have all the details, but I would get them to him in the morning. He told me he would try to make it. He was making an effort. I was expecting to be immediately brushed off for other plans, but it was nice to see him entertaining the idea at the very least. Maybe things were improving.
In the morning, D and his girlfriend were too tired to head into the city. I told Smiles brunch was off. He told me he wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway. He had to work. We texted a little bit the rest of the morning. That morning, there was a fire on my block that day that engulfed an entire building. I sent Smiles picture messages, and he expressed concern for my well-being.
That night, we spoke on the phone. We talked about our day, and he told me about the party he attended. Again, I was a little bitter considering I wasn’t invited. I asked him if he was available for dinner Monday night since I wasn’t getting to see him at all over the weekend. He told me he’d have to get back to me. As the conversation was coming to a close, I asked him if we were going to exchange Christmas presents.
I’d actually been thinking about it since Thursday, but hadn’t remembered to ask him. I was a little afraid too. I didn’t know how to pose it. This is so unlike me. I should have just said what I wanted to say. I didn’t have the chance to ask him where we stood yet, so I didn’t feel comfortable asking him about exchanging Christmas presents.
The day before this conversation, I bought him two cashmere hats he’d expressed interest in. I bought them from one of my favorite online stores, Bonobos (They have really amazing stuff by the way. I highly recommend them, especially for proper fitting pants!). It would work out well because they offer free shipping both ways, so if we weren’t doing presents, I could return them.
So, I said to him, “Do you want to do Christmas presents?” He paused a second and responded, “Let’s not over-think things. I don’t think we’re there yet.”
And with that, we said goodbye.
Not there yet? Okay. Then where are we? How do you feel about me. We’d been together three months at this point. I didn’t see why we couldn’t exchange some nice Christmas presents. I wasn’t buying him a Rolex.
This just further motivated my desire to have the relationship conversation…
Follow @onegayatatimeBreaking Through
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 6, 2012
Saturday night, we had a special celebration planned. Every year, to commemorate another year of my father being on the planet, my parents come visit, and we go out to dinner in New York City. Afterwards, we take in all the Christmas sights around town.
Even though I recently moved and invited my parents into town to help me move in, this year would be no different.
With a closet built and an entire chest of drawers assembled, we prepared to go out for dinner. My parents wanted to have dinner in Hoboken, so I decided to take them to my favorite restaurant I go to every year for my birthday, Piri Piri. I coordinated with my sister to meet her there to celebrate my father’s birthday.
We sat down for dinner and placed our appetizer orders. Somewhere along the way, we started to talk about me and the guy I was dating. For the first time, they didn’t change the subject to who my sister was dating at the time. I was shocked when my mother brought it up. I think they got the hint this was more than just a fling when I went into the city to spend the night. They were finally taking an interest in my dating life, and I loved it. They asked questions about what he did for a living and where he grew up. It was great. I was happy to talk about him.
Both my father and my mother were showing a vested interest. I wonder if my sister spoke to them about my unhappiness. It seems like a night-and-day shift from past history. I don’t care how the change came about. I’m just happy it happened. My dating life is a LARGE part of who I am, and for them to not share that with me was painful (However, I don’t share everything. I don’t quite know how to tell them I write a blog).
Our food arrived, and we had a very pleasant meal. My sister wasn’t feeling well, so when we were ready to make our way into the city, she went home instead to rest.
I took my parents to a cute shop in Hoboken, Michaelangela’s. They had the store decked out wall-to-wall with Christmas decorations and ornaments. We continued to the PATH as I asked them what they’d like to see. We have all grown tired of the standard Macy’s windows and the Rockefeller Christmas Tree. One of our favorite displays, the Sak’s snowflake window show, was discontinued. I proposed a new set of sights. We’d never done the Union Square shops, so I proposed we start there.
When we got off the PATH, we walked to Union Square. It wasn’t too cold out, so the walk wasn’t too bad. When we arrived, all the shops were closed for the night. I apologized, and we hopped into a cab to head uptown to Bloomingdale’s. This was another part of the city we never usually visited. The cab ride was cramped, and he was a very bad driver. I’ve never gotten so many red lights in the city in my life!
Bloomingdale’s was less than thrilling, so I suggested we head over towards Fifth Avenue. My mom kept commenting on how impressed she was. She couldn’t believe how quickly I could learn to navigate the city coming from a the farm life out in the country. I explained how easy it was. As I was showing them new landmarks they’d never visited before, my mother commented on how many she’d seen on her Sex in the City tour of New York City. (I found it ironic that subject came up. Even though I’ve only seen the show twice, I aspire to maintain my blog in the Sex in the City fashion).
She was finally piecing parts of the city she’d been to before together on a map in her mind. It was all starting to make sense to her. Who knew Sex in the City could teach you geography. We window shopped as we walked because many stores were closed. I took them to The Plaza Hotel. They were happy to see the inside since they’ve never been.
Afterwards, we walked past the Bergdorf Goodman window displays. These are some of my favorites since they are not childish and are often done tastefully. My parents took pictures in front of them and of each and every window. They really enjoyed them. I was happy to be sharing the joy with my parents after they spent the weekend substantially helping me settle in to my new apartment.
A small part of me wished Smiles joined us on our little adventure. It would have been nice for him to meet my parents and spend a little time with them, but we weren’t there yet. I also wanted him there because I love spending Christmas in the city with someone I care about. Last year, Broadway and I made a point to take in the Christmas sights. He even treated me The Plaza Hotel to my first drink ever bought for me by another man at. I wanted to share such happy times with someone else I cared about. However, this wasn’t possible or realistic. We weren’t at the meet the parents stage yet, and Smiles was home in bed recovering.
We continued to stroll down Fifth Avenue, but by this time, we were searching for some kind of dessert. We were striking out because it was around 11:00 at night. Most things had closed for the night. On top of that, I was walking around the city on a freshly sprained ankle — Probably not the best idea. My parents were starting to grow weary as well, so I suggested we head towards my office for a pit stop before hopping on the PATH home.
I realized we’d be passing McDonald’s, so I suggested we get hot fudge sundaes, cookies, and fries for dessert. My parents agreed. It would also eliminate the stop at my office because I could use the restrooms there.
I checked the PATH schedule. The next train was leaving in eight minutes, and the following one was another fifteen minutes after that. I urged them to hurry and bring our dessert with us. We hustled to the train, making it there with a little time to spare.
Luckily, we all got seats and relaxed on our ride home. I was really happy to do something nice for my parents in return for what they do for me. It was nice spending some quality time with them as well. I was also still on a high from their newfound interest in my love-life. It removed a big roadblock in our relationship. I could go to bed a happy man.
It was a long day, and we were all tuckered out. We would all surely sleep well the minute our heads touched the pillow.
Follow @onegayatatimeGreat 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…
Follow @onegayatatimeWaking Up Drunk
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 7, 2011
When I woke up in the morning, I had little recollection of the night before, even leaving the bar. I could only remember a flash of about ten seconds of sex, and I actually remembered enjoying it. It was a scary feeling.
As the morning progressed, I didn’t let on that I blacked out the night before. I was hoping Smiles would divulge enough details for me to start piecing things together. I had so much to drink, I was still drunk when I woke that morning.
He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to lean off the bed to retrieve my boxers and put them on.
I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up as best I could. I tried to fix my hair, but it was no use. I made a comment to Smiles about this, and he noted it was because I showered the night before. I showered the night before? I did not remember that AT ALL!
I wanted nothing more than to brush my teeth. Of course, Smiles didn’t have an extra toothbrush. I squirted toothpaste on my finger and brushed my teeth Survivor style. This was turning out to be a pretty sh*tty morning. I asked Smiles if I could borrow a t-shirt instead of my button-down from the night before.
Smiles detailed what he wanted to do with his day. He had a lot of boxes in his apartment he wanted to get into storage. He was able to procure a storage unit across the street from his apartment. It was necessary to transport his belongings from a storage unit in Harlem. I volunteered to help him since I had no plans for the day and was looking forward to spending more time with him. I had no idea how big a mistake that would be.
We began our journey at Starbucks. He ordered his favorite “salty pretzel drink,” and I ordered a coffee, a brownie, and pound cake. I was starving. We quickly snagged a cab to stay on schedule and sped up the FDR Drive. The cab wasn’t able to drive all the way to the storage facility because the New York City Marathon route was between us and the facility. We arrived at the storage unit just before his appointment only to find that the storage shuttle he booked was unable to make it to the facility. The trek uptown was for not.
We walked to the nearest subway stop downtown, and hopped aboard. At this point, my hangover was kicking in hardcore. I was feeling very sick. With every subway stop, I climbed deeper and deeper into the misery hole. Smiles was trying to talk to me, and I was giving him “um hm’s.” When we were about three stops from getting off, I started to feel extremely nauseous. I was not going to vomit in front of Smiles and in front of everyone else on the subway. I was going to make it, even if I had to run to a trash can on the street. I used all my being to keep it down and not give it up. Smiles could see I was not doing well, and suggested we hit up a bodega for a bottle of water. The minute I entered the fresh air, I felt infinitely better, but I still wasn’t 100%. I downed a bottle of water and soldiered on.
We walked around a bit and did some window shopping before stopping to grab lunch at Lucky Strike. I ordered a sandwich, but I wasn’t able to eat it. Smiles was very sweet all day long trying to take care of me. He gave many suggestions for ailments, but many of them involved liquor. No matter how small the amount, the mere thought was triggering my gag reflex. I asked the bartender to box up my lunch so I could eat it later in the day when I was feeling better. He provided me with some relief by offering peppermint essential oil to rub on my temples and under my nose. Surprisingly, it worked quite well.
We walked back to Smiles’ apartment so I could gather my things to head home. It was clear I was no longer a human being. I was a mere shell of a man. I kissed Smiles goodbye and walked north to the Christopher Street PATH station.
I went home and curled up on the couch and watched TV while I contemplated my recent life choices. After about an hour I was able to eat my croque-monsieur, and it was delicious. Hopefully my day would end better than it started.
Follow @onegayatatimeAt the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
One Gay at a Time 