Posts Tagged closet
Vintage Closet
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 18, 2012
Before my trip to Washington DC, I started chatting with a few guys on Grindr. It was bad timing for the trip to come right after “meeting” them, but it would have to do. On my way back home, I made plans with a few guys over text for dates to get to know them.
One of the guys I was talking to was a bit older. He seemed like a great guy, and he was very interested in me. Of all the guys I started talking to, he texted the most. He seemed sweet, caring and attentive. While away, he asked how the blossoms were. He genuinely took an interest in me. He was texting me like a high school girl. I wasn’t annoyed. I was flattered. We made plans to grab a drink Wednesday evening after work.
Since Southern Drawl didn’t want to go to The Breslin, I proposed he and I meet there for a drink. It wasn’t far from my office, and it was pretty centrally located in Manhattan. We set a time, and I stayed at the office to kill time until he could make it there.
He ended up arriving early, and he texted me to let me know. I quickly left my office and speed-walked the ten blocks to the bar to meet him.
I wasn’t sure what I’d be meeting that night. From his picture, he looked like a very mature man. He had white hair, and he told me he was possibly getting a haircut before we met. I encouraged him to keep his longer hair since I liked it, but it was his hair. I didn’t know which hairstyle I’d be meeting.
I walked in to find him standing leaning against the wall. It wasn’t too difficult to pick him out of the crowd, however, he looked much older than I originally expected. I invited him to follow me to the bar and ordered us drinks. I managed to snag two bar stools just as someone was getting up to walk away.
We dove right into conversation about work. We both worked in advertising at one point, so we discussed that for a while. The more we talked, the more relaxed the conversation became. I didn’t see this conversation growing into a relationship, but he was a really nice guy. There was no reason why I couldn’t share a few rounds with a nice guy. I really didn’t think we were compatible.
Somehow we got into philosophical conversation talking about life in general. He really liked my outlook on life. I wasn’t putting on a show or anything. I was just being myself. He really responded well to this.
During our conversation, he came clean on his age and informed me he was 36. That’s how old Smiles was, so it wasn’t the issue for me. He did, however, look more like he was 42. I wasn’t sure if I believed him about his age. I wondered if he was lowballing it.
We started talking about family and his family house in the Hamptons. We got on the topic of coming out, and I told him how fresh I was to the gay world. He responded well to this and told me he was new himself. He came out to a few of his high school friends, and apparently it didn’t go well. For them, it became a problem of an identity crisis. They didn’t know who he was anymore. I told him how positive my experience was coming out and conveyed my sympathy about his experience. He also told me his family didn’t know either. It appeared I was more gay mature than he was. This was a first. This was a 36 year-old man who was still living in the closet. I didn’t think I could handle that. If he couldn’t accept himself by that age, the road was only going to get rockier as we went along.
After three rounds, the time came to go home. He expressed his desire to go on a second date, and I let on that this was a possibility. I didn’t want to lead him on and seem overly zealous about it, but I didn’t want to break his spirit. We walked to the corner and said goodbye with a hug. We exchanged a few texts after that, but obviously nothing ever materialized.
It wasn’t that late, so I decided to text M.E. and see if he wanted to come over. He did, and when he arrived at my apartment, we immediately went to the bedroom. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We stripped each other naked and got right down to things. There was a bit of foreplay and a lot of making out before I reached for the condoms and lube. Since being with him, I had unprotected sex with someone else. I needed to keep his safety in mind. While in DC, my results came back with no STDs and HIV negative, but I didn’t want to take any chances. We had amazing protected sex that night and fell asleep in a spooning position.
When we woke in the morning, we fooled around until we hopped in the shower. There, we had sex once again. I’m always horny in the morning, so this was even better than the night before. When we finished showering, we went back to the bed and had sex there. At one point, I even turned over and let him penetrate me. I felt I owed it to him. He was incredibly excited about it. This didn’t last long because, as he told me, he had a hard time keeping an erection after he’d been penetrated. I was okay with this, being as it’d been a long time since I bottomed.
We laid with each other, and I tried to finish myself off but to no avail. I had a dentist appointment to get to that morning, so I could no longer dawdle. I was already late the way it was. This was going to be a rough day. How was I ever going to concentrate on anything!?
M.E. gave me a ride to the dentist, and I gave him a kiss goodbye.
Follow @onegayatatimeDeep Pockets
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 16, 2012
Since deciding to end things with Smiles, I’d already been on one date and had one hookup. I certainly hit the ground running. I felt slightly guilty all this was going on before we even had the chance to formally end things, but then again, things never really formally began between us.
I wasn’t wasting any time either. I had been talking to a really nice guy on adam4adam.com and set up a date to grab drinks with him after work Friday evening. It was a bit awkward because this was truly a blind date.
He had two pictures on a4a, but neither was clear and one didn’t include a face. When I asked him to send me a better face picture, he told me he didn’t like taking pictures of himself. Of course a red flag raised in my mind, but I had nothing to lose either. If I arrived and the guy was unacceptable, I was right next to the Port Authority bus terminal. I would be home in no time with little of my time wasted.
We agreed to grab drinks at Arriba Arriba in Hell’s Kitchen. It was conveniently located between his apartment and my office, and like I said, it wasn’t far from my transportation hub to go home.
As I left my office and began walking north, I was quite nervous. I’d never been on a true blind date before. I’d at least seen pictures of their faces, but this time I had no idea what he looked like. I joked with him, “Not gonna lie. Not sure what you look like… Haha.” It didn’t take him to respond: “Sorry mate. Don’t like taking pictures of myself. We will find each other… haha. You can ask me to leave once you see me and how ugly I am. Lol.” I didn’t care all that much at this point for the picture. I was already going in blind. I replied, “No apologies needed. Just tellin’ ya you’re gonna have to find me…”
I waited for him on the street corner. I put that time in a good location to good use. I surfed Grindr in HK for any new prospects. I know some may say that is classless considering I was waiting for a date, but I’m not in HK all that often anymore, and there is more talent in that neighborhood than where I work. He finally arrived and approached me. I asked how his trek to HK was, and we went inside to find a table.
When we learned we could only stand at the bar since we weren’t ordering food, we decided to go elsewhere. I was at a bit of a loss because I hadn’t been in the neighborhood for some time. I didn’t know of a good place for us to go for a drink. Luckily, this guy was good on his feet. He suggested Eatery, and we were off.
We grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a few rounds of drinks. We chatted for a long time about a myriad of things. The whole time, he kept his ball-cap on. Beyond the fact that he should know it’s bad manners, especially since he was an older gentleman, I was also worried there may be no hair under there. I’m not shallow, and looks are not everything to me. But, if he was balding without shaving his head, I wasn’t sure I could deal with that. (Smiles shaved his head and I was obviously okay with that).
We talked about our upbringings. He lived a bicoastal lifestyle, living in California and South Carolina. He also was shipped off to boarding school in Switzerland, where his grandparents lived. I grew up on a farm and went to public school. We had quite the education/socio-economic divide before. This is one thing I‘m not sure I am capable of getting past. I’m sure if it was the right guy, I could handle him coming from wealth, but it’s something that makes me quite uneasy. He came from money, and a lot of it.
I also learned he leads a very lavish lifestyle. He told me about his plans to purchase a house in Barcelona. He’d recently traveled there to scope out some places. He also told me about the $200,000.00 loan he gave a friend and was never paid back because the friend died and left his only possession, his apartment, to someone else. He told me about his lavish trips to the Caribbean islands recently. The list goes on.
Ironically enough, he wasn’t talking about all these because he was trying to impress me (Or at least it didn’t come off that way, which is fine). It simply came up in conversation or I coaxed them out with questions. I just felt uncomfortable with our socio-economic differences. I don’t really aspire to the position of kept man. I want someone who will share the financial burdens with me equally. I know a lot of people would love to find someone rich to marry, but money means very little to me when it comes to love. I think like I would constantly feel like less of a man if I had everything provided for me constantly, and I contributed far less to the relationship. Maybe this is something I will learn to get over in time, but for now, it makes me uneasy.
I learned how he continued to build his wealth and his professional relationship with a family in Canada. He told me about all the businesses he was involved in, and I started to worry he was another Smiles — Too much on his plate to commit to a real relationship. I also learned he wasn’t out to many people in his life, even after he’d been in a nine-year relationship with a man who left his wife for him. It ended when the man cheated on him while he was away on business. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him still being in the closet. He’d experienced too much and was far too old to still be in denial of his true self. I wasn’t sure I wanted a “project” at that age.
Drinks quickly turned into dinner. We stayed at the bar and made friends with the waitress. She was super sweet and very interested in chatting with us. Over our meal, we conversed more, and I learned we share a lot of the same morals and interests. We had similar outlooks in life.
He also became much more physical as the night progressed. He constantly had his hand on my leg rubbing my thighs and caressing the back of my knee. I started to do the same. Periodically, he would stand and give me a big ol’ bear hug. It was sweet. I liked knowing he was a passionate physical man. I needed that after Smiles constant distance.
Six hours later, we were ready to leave the bar. He decided to walk me to the bus. I thought when we exited the restaurant we’d exchange a kiss and go our separate ways. He was a true gentleman and walked me to the Port Authority. Not only that, but he walked me to my gate to wait for my bus and stood there waiting with me. It was midnight, and he was being a total sweetheart. He stood anxiously next to me as if he didn’t know what to do or how to close the date. He wasn’t really out, so I had a feeling a goodnight kiss in front of a large group of strangers was out of the question. When my bus arrived, he said goodbye and we agreed to be in touch.
As I rode home from the date, I wasn’t entirely sure what I thought of him. He became more attractive as the night went on, but I wasn’t sure if that was his personality or the alcohol stepping in for average looks.
I had a lot to think about. It was clear to me he was interested in me. The next day, he texted to see if I was interested in catching a movie that evening. I told him I had plans to hang with friends locally, but if they fell through, I’d let him know. When I decided to keep my plans, I texted him to let him know. He wasn’t all that concerned considering he had hopped on a flight to Boston to hang out with friends and go to a party. Yup, hopped on a flight that day. He obviously didn’t have a planned flight considering he asked me to go to the movies — Unless he was planning to fly me to Boston to do so…
That night, while out with my friends, I called Boston. He told me some of his new exciting war stories, and I told him of my trepidations about Deep Pockets. He told me I was nuts to write him off based on financial differences, so I decided to see where things went over the next week or so.
We texted a few times more, but interest wasn’t strong on either end as the text messages slowly came to an end. I was on to the next prospect…
Follow @onegayatatimePut Me In Coach
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 13, 2012
It was obvious things were strained between Smiles and I. For quite some time, our relationship was on the decline. He was distant, closed off, and not very engaged, and I wasn’t happy.
I tried to stick it out with him. I tried being patient and understanding. He was a good guy, and I could see there was a great guy under all this. But, I had reached my limit. I knew I deserved better. It was time to move on.
Wednesday passed without communication from Smiles, so I sent him a text in the middle of the afternoon. “It’s apparent you’re trying to put distance between us. Can you possibly find time to discuss things with me in person? Thanks,” I typed.
He responded ten minutes later with: “I can this weekend. I’m up at 5:30 and in bed at 12:30 and not a lot of time in between. This weekend will be a littler better but not much. I will make something work though.”
Wow! It was all I could do to restrain myself from responding, “Thanks for squeezing me in!” How could he!? After three months of dating, he couldn’t sacrifice a gym session to take the time to talk to me like a man. What a coward! It was completely disrespectful and painted a clear picture of Smiles’ true feeling for me. I doubt he ever truly cared for me. He simply enjoyed not being lonely.
I’m no one’s lap dog. I was back in the game. In my mind, we were all but broken up. It was inevitable. There was no coming back from this, especially since the relationship wasn’t the strongest to begin with. I’d been through yet another failed relationship with a man who simply wasn’t that into me. My confidence was pretty much shot. What was it about me they couldn’t seem to embrace? I’m not pathetic enough to say what was I doing wrong, but I also knew I may be something to turn these men off.
Regardless, I was back in the game. I needed to put myself back out there. Some people would argue I needed some time to be single and to figure myself out, but I know myself well enough. I didn’t need time to heal from this one. I did need to have some fun. It’d been a long time since I had passionate active sex, and I was hungry for it.
After my last breakup, I went wild over the summer. I hooked up with a lot of guys and expanded my sexual horizons. It was both a good thing and a bad thing. I didn’t want to go back to my old ways. I already learned how unfulfilling it was. There was no need to repeat old mistakes. But I wasn’t going to completely limit myself. I was “single” for all intents and purposes.
I had been talking to a Latino on Grindr for a bit of time. He seemed like a really nice guy, and we had a lot in common. Latinos aren’t really my type, but I’m an equal opportunity dater. N was of Latino background, and we got along well enough in the beginning.
We set a date for Thursday night to grab a drink at a local Hoboken bar, Trinity. He lived in neighboring Jersey City, and I convinced him to drive over since I didn’t have a car — It was a bit cold for the motorcycle.
He arrived before me, and found a spot in the corner of the bar. It was a good spot since we could talk without a large crowd of spectators. I shook his hand and introduced myself. He did the same, and I immediately recognized an accent of some sort. I asked him where he is from.
He told me of his roots in Venezuela and asked about my upbringing. I told him about my time growing up on the farm and how I came to live in the shadow of New York City.
We’d learned about our shared interest in volleyball and talked about that for some time. He was much more of an amateur than myself, but it was nice to find someone who had an interest in it.
We somehow got on the subject of coming out and families. He told me he’d been out of the closet since he was eighteen. He asked when I came out, and I proudly told him I was fresh and new. I told him I’d only come out about a year and a half ago. The expression of shock and disappointment on his face said it all. I knew the date was a failure. We chatted a bit about it, and I could tell he was not thrilled with the idea of my being a “new gay.” I tried to explain to him I wasn’t new. On the timeline, it may seem short, but I did a lot in that short period of time. I grew in leaps and bounds and had relationships of all sorts with varied men. For the first time in my life, I was trying to vaguely paint myself as a recovering whore.
When I think back about this, it was a dumb idea. If it was something that bothered him, I should have accepted that and moved on. I didn’t need to end the date then and there, but I shouldn’t have tried so hard so early to be what he wanted. I should have just been myself. This may be why I get involved with men that aren’t truly interested in me.
Somehow our discussion morphed into the topic of sex with women. He’d never been with a woman, but I have. I was just adding water to the fire with every sentence. We talked about the local gay dating ring, Grindr and the like. It was an interesting conversation, as we the entire date, but I doubted there would be a second.
When we finished that drink, I paid the bill and offered to walk him to his car. When we got there, I went in for a kiss. It was pretty bad. We pretty much crashed into each other with a forceful peck. I’m not sure why I kissed him if I wasn’t all that interested in him. I think it’s because I’ve been out of the game for some time, and I just felt like it was what I was supposed to do.
As I walked home, I checked my phone to find out one of the guys I’d met from Grindr months ago was moving to Hoboken. We’d been in touch sporadically since we originally met. He was just coming off a really rough breakup, and I was just starting things off with Smiles. I met him in hopes of making a new gay friend. I needed those as much as I needed lovers. He’d invited me to go out a few times, but I was never able to due to other plans. Now we’d be neighbors, and hanging out would be much easier. I was just what I needed to come back into my life at that moment.
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 @onegayatatimeChicken Soup for the Surgical Soul
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 5, 2012
Since my parents were staying with me to help me settle in after a move, I was relegated to the couch. Luckily, my roommate was out of town for work at the same time. Before he left, I asked if he minded if I use his bed.
It was working out quite well for me. Smiles offered me his bed Thursday night, and my roommate was nice enough to allow me to use his the other two nights my parents were staying with me.
We woke early that Saturday morning. We had a lot to do, so we got started with breakfast and began our day.
My mother finished unpacking the kitchen and washing dishes while my father and I got a jump on my closet. Since I had it designed and all the boards were cut to size, it should be a relatively simple project.
We were making good progress when I realized I needed to take a break so I could deliver the chicken soup I made for Smiles the night before. I texted him, “Morning babe. How you feeling? Gonna be home in a little bit? Gonna swing by and drop something off for you. :).” He was awake and responded relatively quickly: “Going to crawl over to see the doctor, then straight home. Should be back about 12:00.”
I asked him how he was feeling since he was in surgery only a few hours earlier. “OK. Sore, but can move,” he responded. “Will you bring over Tylenol? I can’t go out again to get some, and I need it for swelling,” he asked. I was more than happy to be able to help him. I felt guilty I wasn’t there when he woke up from surgery. I originally planned to, but with the move, it became difficult. Luckily, one of his other friends was able to be there.
I sent him a text letting him know I was on my way, and he responded, “OK. See you in a bit. [My friend] is stopping by to bring me soup :).”
SH*T! I didn’t want her to beat me there with soup. Chances are she made chicken soup too, because who makes anything else when someone is sick or recovering. The race was on. I needed to get there first. I didn’t want to be the superfluous soup. I wanted to be the primary.
I quickly packed up the soup and added some of the brownies my dad made. I ran down the stairs and hopped on the bike. I was off into the tunnel. It would take me only fifteen minutes to get to his apartment. Hopefully I would beat her there!
When I buzzed at his door, his friend answered. DAMNIT! She beat me. I was so disappointed. She came down to let me in since the buzzer wasn’t working. We chatted while we descended the stairs about how we hadn’t seen each other since the Hamptons for the film festival.
When I walked in the door, Smiles was sitting on the couch eating a bowl of soup. I noticed the take-out containers on the counter and realized she didn’t make soup. She’d only brought him soup for lunch.
I showed Smiles the large Rubbermaid of soup and placed it in his fridge. I also told him about the brownies, and he asked me to bring them to him now.
I came into the living room and gave Smiles a kiss. I sat while Smiles and his friend continued their conversation about work. I noticed a very large bouquet of flowers by his bedside and eucalyptus next to the couch in a vase. The arrangement was gorgeous, and I immediately felt guilty and outdone. I know it wasn’t a competition over who cared more about him, but in my warped mind, it was. (I later learned he bought the flowers himself before the surgery since he’d be so homebound).
While sitting and talking, another friend arrived. I was also taking every opportunity to wait on Smiles. I gave him the Tylenol, got him water and cleared his dishes. I learned he was the one who brought Smiles home from the hospital. We’d met before, so I said hi. The four of us sat and chatted a bit about a funny scenario involving Smiles, his straight friend and a girl from the night before.
After a bit, he had to be on his way. The conversation changed from Smiles’ movie project to a new work project he was getting into. I moved across the room to help massage a knot out of Smiles’ back. I was crouching next to the couch in an uncomfortable position, so when I couldn’t take it anymore, I made a move back across the room. Smiles then moved over on the couch and asked me to continue. I was happy to be doting on my man.
The time came where I ha to get back to my parents and moving in. I already stayed past the time I told my parents I’d be back. I’d been waiting for the opportune time to head out. I was under the impression his friend/coworker was going to leave shortly, and I wanted a little alone time with Smiles. When that didn’t happen, I had to bounce.
I kissed him goodbye and told him I’d talk to him later as I made my way out.
When I got home, later in the day, I received a text from him. “Thank you for coming over and making soup. Yay.” I told him I was glad to see he was okay and to think nothing of the soup. “Ya know, those brownies aren’t going to make it to tomorrow. Haha,” he added. We joked about what it might do to his system.
I was happy to see him in good sorts and glad he was surrounded by friends. I was also happy I got to show him how much I cared about him, even though I was insanely busy getting settled in my new apartment. He’s a good man, and he deserves special treatment every once in a while.
Follow @onegayatatimeAppendectomy
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 4, 2012
I’m always happy to wake up next to Smiles. And, if you ever read my blog, you know I wake up horny when I’m next to a sexy man. This morning was no different.
If anything, it was intensified by the idea of abstaining from sex for quite some time since Smiles would be recovering from his appendectomy.
My alarm went off at 9:00am, and I knew I’d have to head home in a timely fashion or deal with my parents nagging. We cuddled in bed for some time, and I made some effort to seduce Smiles, but his head was elsewhere. I’m sure he was still working himself up over his surgery in a few hours.
I realized it was time to make my way home, and he told me his plans for the morning before his surgery. He wanted to move some of the last few boxes over to storage before he went under the knife. He knew he would be apartment bound for at least a week, and he wouldn’t be able to lift the boxes with his stitches. I, however, knew there was no way in hell he was going to accomplish that in the time he had before heading to the hospital.
I arrived home and my parents and I made breakfast. We mapped out our plan for the day. We had a lot of places to go — Lowes, Ikea, West Elm, The Container Store… It was going to be a long productive day.
My father and I went over the plans for the closet one more time to make sure our math was correct before going to Lowes for custom cut boards to build shelves and clothes hanging bars.
We worked on a few things around the apartment to get unpacked and settled before we began the day’s errands. I also had to make a trek to CVS to get some supplies to take care of my ankle. Once we got my apartment in decent shape, we made our rounds. This took up a majority of the day.
Smiles was supposed to be done surgery around 4:00/4:30. It was 5:00 and I still hadn’t heard from him. I was starting to worry.
Finally at 5:45, he texted, “All done. Going to bed. Soooo tired.” I responded, “Was just about to text you. Was getting worried… Glad to hear you’re okay. Talk to you tomorrow ;).”
When we realized we weren’t going to be home in time for a decent dinner, we decided to have the turkey the following day for lunch instead of dinner that night. We settled on Swedish meatballs from Ikea instead (We grabbed them after many friends recommended them, but I recommend you stay away from them!).
That night, my father and I assembled what we could to prepare for the work we needed to do the following day. It was late, so we couldn’t begin on the closet just yet.
I took the opportunity to work on my other side project. I wanted to make Smiles chicken soup since I knew he wouldn’t be able to make it out to provide for himself and wasn’t going to be cooking. If you can’t tell, I love taking care of the people I care about. It makes me happy and makes me feel needed. I wonder if I give too much sometimes, but then I reassure myself that I’d rather that than being incredibly selfish. I also think it makes up for the times I am selfish, which can be quite often.
While making the soup, I finally told my parents of my plan to visit Smiles the following afternoon since I was unable to help bring him home from the hospital that day.
I put a lot of love into that soup. It was my way of showing him how much I cared about him, and I couldn’t wait to deliver that appreciation.
Follow @onegayatatimeMom & Dad to the Rescue
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 3, 2012
Moving to a new apartment is both exciting and strenuous. For me, anything new is stimulating, but the arduous task of physically moving is exhausting. I needed to call in reinforcements.
Before my big move, I enlisted the help of my parents. When I broached the subject with them, my mother pointed out their physical inability to help my move. She volunteered them to come help me pack or unpack, but they were not lifting any boxes. I would never even consider the idea since neither of them are spring chickens.
I preferred they help me unpack because I would be able to pack over a long period of time, but I would need to have my apartment set up quickly for my holiday party. I also had a few major alterations I wanted to implement in the new place. I design a closet I would need to build to fit all my clothes. (This is where my inner gay comes screaming out).
They were set to arrive Thursday night in time to come watch my sister and I play in our weekly volleyball league. They were going to stay through the weekend, so my mother made lasagna and was bringing a turkey. We planned to go to the gym for our match and then have a late night dinner after.
The night before, Smiles offered for me to stay with him Thursday night since he knew my parents were staying with me. I graciously accepted since it would save me from sleeping on the couch when I gave up my bed for my parents. I thought it was really sweet of Smiles to notice that and offer a solution. He was also going into surgery the next day. While I was comforting him and put on a brave face since he was so worked up about it, I am always slightly concerned any time someone goes under the knife, especially when they’re being put under. I care a great deal about him, so I was thrilled to sleep with him the night before surgery.
My parents have seen my sister play volleyball in college, but had never seen me play. I was excited for them to be there. However, I was still exhausted. I could barely keep my eyelids open, as they felt like sandpaper, and I could barely lift my arms. We were doing fairly well, when out of nowhere, I came down on the side of my ankle after a hit. I knew as I was coming down to the floor it was a bad sprain. I’d sprained both ankles many times before running cross-country and playing tennis in high school. I was done.
I moved over to the bleachers to elevate my ankle and ice while my team finished out the matches. My mother took the opportunity to point out that I should have taken the night off. A sprained ankle couldn’t have come at a worse time. I still had a lot I needed to do that weekend. The only thing that could have made it worse was if it came the night before the big move.
My team fared well without me, and they all came over to console me after they finished. The sprain was bad, but I was able to walk on it. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew exactly what I was in for.
When I got home, my mother, who teaches athletic training to high school students, wrapped my ankle. I hadn’t told my parents yet, but I was still planning to ride into the city and spend the night in Smiles’ bed.
As we were waiting for the lasagna to heat up in the oven, I proposed my sleeping situation to them. They didn’t seem phased by it, but pointed out that I needed to be home in the morning at a reasonable hour. I told them about his surgery and how I would have to leave earlier regardless, but I wasn’t waking up until 9:00 anyway.
I was leery about the ride into the city. When I sprained my ankle, all I could think about was if it would limit my ability to shift gears on my motorcycle to ride into the city to Smiles’ bed. Luckily, I was still able to do so after wrapping it.
Smiles called to see when I would be coming into the city, and I told him I would arrive around midnight after we finished eating.
I got my parents settled, threw on sweats to head into the city and was on my way.
When I arrived, Smiles told me how long he had to go without eating or drinking anything, even water. He was a little worked up, so I did my best to calm his nerves. I told him to concentrate on his hot doctor instead. I was really hoping for one last throw down in the sheets since I knew he’d be out of commission for quite some time, but since it was so late, that wasn’t in the cards. Instead, after chatting a little bit about my ankle and his surgery, we dozed off in each other’s arms.
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on September 29, 2011
On Labor Day, we began our journey home early in the morning. It was a fun week in Martha’s Vineyard. It wasn’t quite the same as other years. Outside my dalliances, the week seemed very tame. I wondered if it was because some of the group are now paired up, or if it was because we are getting older. Either way it was a great way to end the summer, even if I’m not exactly proud of how I behaved this summer.
I spent the five and a half hour ride in the back of the car. While I was on the island I found a guy on Grindr who lives on the mainland. I tried my hardest to get him to come visit for dinner/drinks/more, but no bites. I talked to him the entire ride home, but that’s another post for another day.
I knew I’d arrive home mid-afternoon. I didn’t want to waste the day unpacking and lounging in front of the TV, so I tried to lay some groundwork for an evening date with some of the candidates still on the roster. When none of them replied, I was quite disappointed — And, horny. After chatting and exchanging pictures with my Massachusetts mainlander and other random Grindr men I encountered on the road home, I was in the mood for some action. I didn’t want to pull in another random from Grindr or adam4adam.com. I was trying to curb sex with strangers. I did however have two friends with benefits still in my back pocket. They were itching to hop in the sack with me as much, if not more than I was with them. They both messaged me numerous times while I was in Martha’s Vineyard to inquire about my return home.
I called up Closet Guy and told him to come over. He jumped at the opportunity, but needed to run home and shower before he could come over. And, just my luck, one of the guys on my roster took that moment to respond about meeting up that evening. He had been on the roster for MONTHS. He was one of the first guys I talked to, and we had been trying to meet up ever since. I wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to finally meet up, but I also had to deal with Closet. So I did what any horny, selfish guy would do — I scheduled both back-to-back. I told Closet to hurry because I needed to go into the city to meet up with a coworker to discuss everything I missed over the week before heading back the next morning. It was perfect. He would come over, have sex and leave without any of the post sex chatter.
(Warning: The following may be too graphic for some) When he arrived, I brought him straight to my bedroom. He stripped, and I threw him down on the bed. We made out like we hadn’t seen each other in months. Hands all over each other. It wasn’t long before he was begging for me to be inside him. He hopped on top of me and went to town. It was just what I needed after a long car ride. Shortly after, I rolled him over and we tried a few other positions, ending with him on his back. That’s when things got slightly messy. It’s always unfortunate when that happens, but it happens. It’s the nature of the beast. It’s quite a mood killer, but I always try to be dignified about it. I’m sure it was a learning experience for him, as I was the only one to penetrate him. I asked him if he wanted to move things to the shower and conveniently laid the hand towel I had at my bedside over the spot on my comforter as to not draw attention and embarrass him further.
Once in the shower, we lathered up and continued the fun until we were both fully satisfied. It actually worked out quite well because I love shower sex, and I needed to shower before heading into the city to meet the long-haired hunk I texted earlier. It was both fun and a time saver.
We toweled off and got dressed. I kissed him goodbye at the door and continued to get ready for my date. I thought things would change when I arrived home from vacation. I thought I would get back to my old self where I could only have sex with someone I truly had feelings for, but I was wrong…
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 