Posts Tagged Charritos
Today is a Fast Forward Monday!!!
My apologies to those who have come to expect Fast Forward Fridays. I have been traveling for work/pleasure, and I got caught up in things. I haven’t had a chance to write the second post, so I’m making up for it today. 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…
After missing the opportunity to finally meet my online friend after almost a years time chasing each other around, the day finally arrived when I was scheduled to finally meet him in the flesh. This was well overdue, and I was quite excited. I wasn’t about to get ahead of myself, but the suspense had been building up for quite some time.
We discussed where we would go for drinks or dinner and finally settled on Charritos, a Mexican restaurant I’ve been to on numerous occasions. In fact, this wasn’t the first date I took there. We planned to meet at 7:30. I knew the place didn’t take reservations, but it was a Monday night on a holiday weekend. I figured everyone was home getting ready for the coming workweek. It also wasn’t the nicest night, as snow was in the forecast, so I thought we’d be alright.
When I arrived, I was immediately proved wrong. I stood in front waiting for him to arrive noticing every table (all 8 of them) filled with diners. Finally, he arrived, and we attempted to go inside out of the cold. Even this proved difficult since there was nowhere to go once we were in there. While we waited for a table to clear, we awkwardly chatted.
This was surprisingly difficult. He seemed so incredibly flirty online and charismatic, and the man standing in front of me was a very shy reserved individual. I couldn’t get over it. Where was the guy I’d been chatting about my body and sexual interests in detail? Where was the flirt?
We talked about work and the weather. It was a struggle to find a topic to discuss. Everything felt forced. It wasn’t awful, but it certainly wasn’t what I expected.
Finally we got a table and sat. After we ordered, we started to chat a bit more. I asked most of the questions. He always responded in detail, but he never asked a question in turn. That may have helped the conversation flow much more freely, but it wasn’t there. I had to volunteer all my information. I feel awkward talking about myself when I wasn’t asked to. It was as if I was interviewing him for a job.
One topic we got on was siblings. I don’t know why, but that topic has been coming up more and more frequently on my dates. I’ve actually noticed it and tried curbing it. I learned about his siblings as well. It was nice to hear he came from such a similar family dynamic.
We talked about his job as well. I was very intrigued by it. He told me all about his schooling, his specialty in the field relevant to the gay community, his boss, the clinical work he does… This was really shaping up to be quite the catch of a man. He was very sweet and thoughtful. However, our chemistry was not mixing AT ALL! It was so disappointing. On paper he looked so good. Online, he seemed a sexual match for my libido. In person, he was a mouse. Night and day from my expectations.
After quite a while, the waiter basically asked us to leave. There were people waiting for a table, so they kicked us out. I was more than a little p*ssed, because I thought it was very unprofessional and rude, however, it was time for the date to conclude.
We’d already talked about him coming over to my apartment before the date. I was still very sexually attracted to him. I wondered if he’d relax when he was out of the public eye. As we walked outside, I asked him where he parked and told him I’d walk him to his car. I was hoping for a signal along the way to show his interest. I thought he’d drive me to my apartment and come up.
I thought we’d at least say a proper goodbye. I was hoping for a kiss considering all I could think about during the meal was how good his lips would feel. When we got to the car, I stood on the sidewalk, and he walked to the front passengers panel in front of the rearview mirror. That would have been fine. I may have even used the car as a backboard for a strong kiss, BUT there was also a chopped off parking meter between him and myself. Yes. A metal pole about four feet tall was between the two of us. I don’t think he could have strategically showed his lack of interest any more other than to simply get in the car and drive away.
We said goodbye, and I told him it was nice meeting him. He said, “Likewise.” That’s when I grew some balls and took what I wanted. I moved forward, reached my long arm over the pole, hooked it under his arm around his back, and pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t a long kiss or a makeout session, but I certainly wasn’t going to be satisfied with a peck.
And with that, I turned and walked home in the flurries falling from the sky. I was still a little blown away by the lack of spark during the date. I wasn’t even ready to go home. I decided to stop by my friends’ place on the way home and say hi.
I came in and we caught up on what’s going on with each other before I told he and his wife about my awkward date. He was a little baffled by it as well. He couldn’t understand what was going on. He really loved the parking meter pole story as well. I was so nonplussed.
I sulked home after saying goodnight to my friends. When I got home, I was curious to see if he was back on a4a. Surprise! I was right. I wasn’t going to get past this immediately. I needed to ask him about what happened.
“Surprise, surprise. Look who’s on here,” I messaged him. We chatted a bit awkwardly about the date. He messaged me back: “I was waiting for you to ask me to come back.” He wanted to come back to my apartment. He even brought his c*ck ring and poppers with him. I was so confused, and I made that clear to him. He wasn’t aware of his mixed signals, nor was he aware of the pole. He just thought I wasn’t interested since I walked him to his car. It was all a big misunderstanding. “I had a good time. I thought the conversation was nice,” he added. That doesn’t make up for the awkward date however. That just cleared up the mixed signals at its close.
Just to satiate my curiosity, I told him we would have to try to fix what went wrong when I got back from my work trip to San Francisco. He agreed, so we kept in touch over the next week.
I decided to see what was going on with the southern guy. He texted me to see how my weekend was, so I picked up the phone and called him. Again, we talked for almost an hour while I packed. This completely made up for my awkward date. I was really looking forward to getting back so I could finally meet him. Hopefully this one wouldn’t be as big a disappointment.
In the morning, I had a message from my new southern gentleman caller. He was asking for a picture of my “morning excitement” we’d discussed previously. I denied his request and told him he’d have to wait to see the real thing. This was my way of getting him on the ball about meeting up with me.
I also got a text message from my friend and recent neighbor. It was very sweet of him to do so. I needed to make it a priority to hang out with him when I got back to New York.
All that would have to wait on the backburner… The following day, I was headed to San Francisco for the week for work. Waiting for me were two men. One I attempted a long distance relationship with whom I would meet for a cocktail. The other, a great confident and online friend whom I was extremely excited to meet in person, especially in the bedroom…Follow @onegayatatime
I always get particularly excited when a new guy pops up on Grindr who happens to live in Hoboken. I have pretty much blocked all the gay men in Hoboken, so when a new one pops up, I notice.
One in particular messaged me and was pretty cute. In his pictures, he looked like he had a good body and seemed very nice and genuine. After we chatted a few times, we exchanged numbers and switched things over to texting.
He told me he was a trainer at NYSC, but he was on hiatus while he got a certification. In the meantime, he was working as a bartender on Fire Island. He was gone almost every Thursday through Monday. This made it very hard to find a time to meet up, but eventually we figured it out.
We decided to meet on a Tuesday evening at a Mexican restaurant in Hoboken, Charritos. I had only ever heard good things but had never been. He made a good choice. He spent the day out in the burbs of New Jersey at his friend’s pool, and he was late getting back because of rain and flooding. When he finally showed up in his ripped jeans, finely quaffed hair, tight T-shirt and leather bracelets, I knew this date was doomed from the start.
The night before I was warned about this guy. While talking to N, I learned they knew each other in passing. N had seen him working at the gym and told me he was quite effeminate. I became skeptical but open-minded at that point, but when I met this guy in person, the second he opened his mouth I was turned off. On top of that, I noticed how filled out he was. He was supposed to be a trainer. I would never go to a trainer who was that pudgy and couldn’t follow their own advice.
We sat and had a very nice dinner. We talked about coming out and our families’ reactions to the news. We chatted about work and what we do for fun. The conversation was nice, but there was no spark. He just kept looking at me with this big smile like he wanted to gobble me up. I got the feeling he was a bit lost in the world. He was openly gay, but I’m not sure if he knew how to navigate life with men. I shouldn’t talk, because I have no idea what I’m doing, but he seemed like his GPS was slightly off.
After dinner, he asked if I wanted to grab another drink somewhere. I obliged, but I should have ended the date then and there. I knew better. I clearly wasn’t interested in this guy and had an out to go home, but I felt bad for him. I felt like he needed a friend, so I stuck around. We went around the corner to Sushi Lounge and sat at the bar. We each ordered a round and continued our conversation.
Somehow the topic of the rainbow came up as a symbol for gay culture came up in conversation. I explained just how much I despised the rainbow. He was flabbergasted. He didn’t know how to react. I explained it was not something I embraced. I could understand why some people need a symbol to hold on to, but I was making every attempt to not let my homosexuality separate me from the rest of the world. I am a normal ordinary man who happens to like the company of other men. I don’t need a rainbow to broadcast who I am. On top of that, I find the rainbow aesthetically unpleasing. I could tell I really turned him off by all this, but he wasn’t going to argue.
Then the conversation turned to previous relationships. I told him about the two I had been in and the duration of each. He told me I had a longer relationship than any he’s ever had. When I asked him why, he asked the bartender for another drink. He was a broken gay man. I felt bad for him, but certainly no attraction towards him. I thought maybe I could be his friend.
After we split our tab, I walked him home. Much to my surprise, he invited me up. I have NO idea why I agreed, but I did. We sat on the couch with some wine while we watched one of the music channels. We got into a conversation about Lady Gaga. I told him I found her very inspirational and really got behind her message and what she stood for. He told me he was over her. We obviously were going to but heads, so I was about ready to leave.
At that moment, he took my wine glass, took off my shirt, and started kissing me. He was an awful kisser. All over the place. I did not want to be there making out with him. I did however feel he needed to be kissed. So, I suppose you could call it a pity kiss. After a short while, I told him I needed to go home. I had work the next day, and it was getting late. I said goodnight, and with that I was gone.
I made it as far as the bottom step of his apartment stoop when I realized I left my umbrella in his apartment. There was no way in hell I was coming back to this place to get it, nor did I really want to see him again after that night. So, I rang his apartment. He buzzed me in, and I went back up to get my umbrella. When I walked in the door, he pushed me back into a chair and mounted me. Apparently he wasn’t done. I immediately told him I needed to go. I only came back for the umbrella, not an encore. That’s when I really realized he only wanted me for my body. We didn’t have that great of conversation all night and disagreed a lot. We were obviously not compatible for a relationship, but maybe he was just horny. I was slightly offended and made my way home.
He immediately texted me: “Had a great night with you.” I didn’t respond immediately, but in the morning I texted: “I had a good time too.” After that, I was done with him. I was pleasant, but I didn’t give him hopes of a second date. He would not be a repeat offender. The next day he texted, “How was your day at work?” But, he would not get anything back from me. Once again, it was back to the dating pool…Follow @onegayatatime