Posts Tagged cocktails
It was the middle of July in NYC, and while many might find the thought of that heat taxing, I’ve always enjoyed the summertime. People are out during all hours of the day and night. The city comes alive because people are willing to spend more of their time outdoors.
Tuesdays are never particularly good days. You’re still three days away from the weekend, and you don’t have the benefit of being refreshed from the pervious weekend. After a long Tuesday at work, I made my way to CK‘s apartment. He was wrapping up at his office, so I expected we would be arriving around the same time. I was looking forward to seeing him and relaxing. What better way to end a Tuesday than relaxing and watching the sunset from the rooftop of his New York high-rise on the banks of the Hudson River?
We dropped our bags and immediately took the elevator to the penthouse floor. A few others share the same thinking we did, and they were enjoying the days final rays with a few cocktails and some light-hearted conversation. CK and I made our way to the far side of the roof and swapped stories about our days. Through the course of our conversation, I learned he had some work left to do for the evening. It just so happened to be my expertise, so I offered to help when we finally made our way back downstairs. I told him this would have to wait until after we ate dinner of course because I was starving. As the last few beams of light disappeared behind the buildings on banks of the Hudson River in New Jersey, we exchanged a romantic kiss and made our way back downstairs.
We agreed upon ordering in instead of cooking, especially since CK still had work to do. “Sushi it is!” he exclaimed. While we waited, he worked on his presentation while I worked on a blog post in front of the TV. We paused when the food came so we could eat, but once we were properly fed, it was right back to work. I put a little work into his presentation while he proofread my post, pausing to show him a few tips I’d learned along the way myself.
It was a really nice night. We’d fallen into this routine finally, and I was really enjoying it. We were a couple, and there was no fighting. When the good times came, I genuinely appreciated them. I was beginning to wonder if we were a Ronnie and Sammi kind of couple for a little while there (Couldn’t resist the Jersey Shore reference there). That was a scary thought. I didn’t want to be the couple who constantly fought. We loved each other far more than that.
When we’d done enough work for the night, CK asked if he could put on his beloved Rachel Maddow, and I begrudgingly agreed. I wasn’t thrilled with the thought, as I grew more and more tired of her nightly hour-long program. I follow politics pretty closely and follow the Nightly News religiously every night, but I didn’t think anyone needed that much politics in their life. That Tuesday night, it was irrelevant what I wanted because my body wanted to go to sleep. I quickly dozed off on the couch while CK drank in his liberal political commentary.
When I finally woke, it was much later, and I suggested we go to bed. I could see CK was tired, and it was obvious I’d had enough with the day. We made our way to his room and slid into bed. I didn’t even make the pit stop to brush my teeth. I’m not sure why I was so exhausted, but I’m pretty sure I was asleep before my head came to rest on the pillow.
Even though we had no plans, and it was a lazy Saturday, CK and I finally got motivated to make moves. Hip was on his way back to Brooklyn, and I needed to make my way back to my place at some point. I didn’t have anything with me for a Saturday afternoon or Saturday night. I hadn’t been home in a while, and I needed to get my bearings.
We got our act together and finally made our way to Hoboken. We lounged around my apartment for a little while before we were invited to a barbecue at D and K’s. I asked CK if he wanted to hit it up for dinner. Either way, we needed to eat. This would be a cost/time effective way to grab a bite. Of course we took our sweet old time and found time to cuddle and fool around a little. In the end, we wouldn’t have to cook, and I would gather some food from my fridge to take over. I had a few fillet mignons in the freezer, so I grabbed them and we made our way the few blocks.
There was a small crew already gathering. As we entered, we said hello to everyone. I was noticing how welcoming my friends were to CK as well as how integrated CK was in the group. This brought a smile across my face. He wasn’t shy and quiet and huddled in the corner. I didn’t need to hold his hand through every outing. He would strike up his own conversations. He was part of the crew.
We made our way out to the backyard, and everyone helped out in typical fashion. Some people manned the grill, others poured water, others began bringing supplies downstairs, and others over-manned the grill. D always flipped out on the people who insisted on opening the grill lid and flipping things too many times. I learned long ago, when you are at another man’s abode, he is the king of the grill. You do not touch that thing unless you are requested to. I was thrilled to not be manning the grill considering in previous years, all the barbecues were at my apartment since I was the only one with outdoor space.
When the food was ready, we all gathered around the table to eat. We poured cocktails and enjoyed the food. I looked around at all of my closest friends and my man sitting next to me, and all I could do was smile. CK turned to me and said, “What?” I told him, “I’m just so happy!” He smiled back and stroked my knee as we both leaned in for a kiss.
While we ate, everyone began chatting about their plans for the evening. CK and I had a discussion not long ago about having better lines of communication. We weren’t going to put each other on the spot to make public decisions. I was very conscious of this as they all chatted. I told them we hadn’t decided what we were going to do yet so we could talk. “We haven’t even thought about what we want to do tonight yet. We got up late this morning. We may head back into the city, but we don’t know…” I added. I wanted CK to feel this was a pressure-free decision. We would talk about it when we got back to my place. If he wanted to stay in Hoboken, we would stay. If he wanted to do something else, I was game. Obviously, I was leaning toward sticking around Hoboken for a pub night with my friends, but I’m not so sure CK was thrilled with the idea.
In the end, we to stayed in Hoboken. It made sense too, because K invited us to her parent’s lake-house the following morning. Everyone was headed to one of my favorite bars, Cooper’s Union. I was happy to go there since the bartender takes good care of me and my friends. CK had to borrow a teeshirt since he didn’t pack anything to go out for the night, but he looked great and totally fit the part. When we got there, no one was playing shuffleboard, so I suggested we hit that up. CK seemed to be moping a bit. While I’m sure hanging out in a pub with my friends wasn’t his ideal situation, he didn’t offer up an alternative.
As the night went on, CK began to liven up. We made our way to McSwiggans for a few drinks and to dance in “our spot.” Every time a big group of my friends and I head there, we take over the only spacious part of the bar and form our own dance circle. Nobody is bustin’ a move, but we all move around, make fun of each other and have fun while we drink. I never truly felt comfortable there being publicly affectionate with CK. I wasn’t hiding my affections for him, but I certainly wasn’t making them obvious. We were never making out on the dance-floor, but we did dance together and have our arms around each other periodically. I could feel the eyes on me from time to time, but I learned to look past them. CK taught me that. I no longer cared what others thought. I was with the man that made me happiest, and that was nothing to be ashamed of.
When a few of the girls were tired of dancing there, they suggested we head next door to the Shannon. I was adamantly opposed to this. I hadn’t been there in over two years, and for good reason. That place was never anything I enjoyed. We entered, and it was like a porthole to the Jersey Shore. Shockingly, CK was having a blast. I told him of the similarity to the bar and the Jersey Shore, and he added, “If this is what it’s like, let’s go!” You could have knocked me over with a feather. I’d had a blast at The Shore, but I never expected him to want to go. I was blown away, however I was also thrilled to see him having such a good time.
I know we weren’t out with his friends and it took a little more effort on his part to hang out at the bars I liked going to, but none of that went unnoticed. I witnessed the sacrifice and the effort, and it made me love him even more. When we were finally exhausted, we made our way home to my apartment. We were already invited to hit up the lake the following day, so we needed to get to bed at somewhat of a decent hour so we could wake up in time to go.
Both of us were hoping my roommates were away so we could have our own raucous party — In my bed. Sure, we had a hot night in his bed the night before, but we were on a roll. Great sex was inevitable, and that night, it certainly didn’t disappoint!
It was late in the morning, but I was still reeling from our late-night romp. I could only dream every time would be like that from there on out. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When I woke him with my kisses, he ran his hand down my torso until he noticed my morning excitement. He grabbed hold and squeezed, expressing his delight in his discovery. He pulled the sheets down, followed shortly by my boxer briefs. As his head bobbed up and down between my legs, I let out moans of pleasure. What a way to wake up!
Apparently, neither of us got enough the night before. We were both still excited about how amazing it was. It made me excited and hard just thinking about it. We both wanted a sequel.
He climbed on top of me, and we began passionately kissing. Of course, things escalated from there. It wasn’t long before I had him on his back, and I was deep inside him. The sex was great that morning. It wasn’t quite like the epic romp we had the night before, but it was great. We flipped, and he had his way with me.
When we finished, while we laid in the bed together, he took hold of my head and said, “[O.G.A.A.T.], I love you.” Even though I suspected it was coming, nothing could have prepared me for that moment. No man had ever told me they loved me before. I knew he meant it. I stared deep into his eyes — Deep into the eyes of the man I loved too. “I love you too, Babe,” I added. We hugged strongly and kissed passionately. It was an incredible moment, and I began to cry a little. He reacted by comforting me. I think he was a little panicked. He didn’t know how to deal with that, but that didn’t really matter. We were in love. That was all that mattered.
Because of this and the sex, we were very late for our plans to meet P on the pier. When showered up, ate something and packed our bags for the pier. P was there waiting for us when we arrived. We apologized for being delayed and hinted at the reason. She gave a giddy laugh and scolded us.
P and CK decided to hit up one of the food trucks/ice cream trucks after a while. They came back with all sorts of things and an ice cream sandwich for me. While they were gone, I played with P’s dog, Baby, and I texted the rest of my friends to see who was up for a day on the pier. A few responded explaining they’d be on their way shortly.
I told the other two everyone’s whereabouts and plans. CK asked about my sister, but I told him she hadn’t responded to my text. He was very concerned with her perception of him. They’d only met for a short while at the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival a few weeks earlier. Even when prompted, she still had no opinion. This worried him.
After some time, my friend G joined us. I also got ahold of D and his girlfriend. They were in the city for brunch, but they would join us on their way back home.
CK and I decided we wanted to have some refreshing cocktails to go with our small picnic of snacks. Just as D and his girlfriend were arriving, we made our way to the liquor store to get some prosecco. I had a great idea to mix this with a few flavors from Rita’s Italian Ice.
While we walked, CK and I discussed him meeting my parents. They were coming into the city in early June for a Broadway show and dinner. I wanted him to meet them. I invited him to the dinner a few days earlier. I explained to him my sister’s reaction to his invitation, as well as my parents. My parents had no issue, but my sister thought it was too soon. In telling CK this, I realized I made a big mistake. He immediately expressed to me, “OKAY! Now, I’m definitely not coming!”
“WHAT!?” I protested. I was not happy with that. I was very excited for him to finally meet my parents. I’d met his mother, and it went swimmingly. On top of this, he meant a lot to me. I wanted my parents to know this. They’d never met any of the guys I’d dated in the past. In my protest and explanation, I think I was able to bring him back around.
We grabbed two bottles of prosecco and made our way to Ritas. We got watermelon and mango peach ice to mix with the prosecco. We planned to make refreshing summer drinks for all.
As we walked back to the pier, he still didn’t give up on the fact my sister wasn’t joining us. He was harassing me to invite her, but because of her snarky email telling me I shouldn’t invite my boyfriend to dinner, on top of other things, I was annoyed with her. Then I checked my phone when I went to invite her and realized I’d already done so when I reached out to the others. She didn’t respond. I told CK this, and his guilt was alleviated.
When we got back, we shared our drinks with everyone in improvised vessels since we forgot to get cups. Everyone was talking and having fun. CK was fitting in nicely. I loved seeing him with my friends and how he interacted with them. He passed my friend test swimmingly. I care a lot about them, and if he could’t hang with them, it wouldn’t last. He was able to hold his own and impressed me to no end.
We decided to plant ourselves on the couch and watch Immortals for the evening. We ate dinner and cuddled on the couch until it was time to head back into the city to his place. We didn’t plan for him to stay over. It was very late, but he had nothing for work the next day. Since he was close to my office it only made sense to spend the night there.
We got to his apartment and got ready for bed immediately. I brushed my teeth and climbed in between the sheets. It wasn’t long before I dozed off, but I was thrilled to be in his arms. I never got tired of sleeping with him, and hopefully, there would be infinite nights in the future we spent the same way.Follow @onegayatatime
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.
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 @onegayatatime
Friday arrived, and I was starting to nail down plans with Smiles for the night. He had things to do all day, so we planned to grab dinner and then head to his friend’s birthday party.
This meant I had time to kill after work. My good friend A asked me to grab happy hour drinks with her. She recently moved our of Hoboken into the city with her boyfriend, so I was already seeing a lot less of her. We were due for a catch-up.
She picked a place in the Flatiron District that’s known for their happy hour. We cozied up to a spot at the bar and chatted about our new situations. It had been a while since I caught her up on the status between Smiles and I. I took her for a ride on the roller-coaster ride of emotions I’d been through. She gave me advice on how I should proceed and things I should watch out for. After five years, she knows me quite well and can predict a lot about me, so I’ve come to listen intently to what she says.
She also took the time to talk about the new challenges she faced moving in with her boyfriend. I tried to give her my two cents for what it was worth. My biggest advice to her was to pick her battles. On the things she could let go, she should, but on the things she really cared about, she should make a stink. That way, he would realize with more poignancy when he was doing things that got under her skin.
In the middle of our conversation, Smiles called to discuss dinner. He chose a place about two blocks from where we were drinking, and we agreed to meet in a half hour. When the time came, and A and I had our fill of cocktails, we walked to the restaurant Smiles chose. I coerced her into coming along to meet him since none of my friends had the opportunity yet.
I introduced them to each other, and Smiles invited her to join us for dinner. A had plans to meet her boyfriend for dinner, and I could tell she was looking for a quick exit, so she agreed to sit with us for a few minutes. She was already running late. I appreciated her making the extra effort, and gave her the out she needed. I told her to get on her way.
After she left, the conversation with Smiles was slightly forced and awkward. I was having a hard time breaking through and there were periods of silence. I learned he was feeling very sick and his stomach was bothering him. He had issues with his appendix, and it was inflamed and bothering him again.
Now, I was worried. I genuinely cared for him and my paternal instincts kicked in. I was worried for his safety and said, “Don’t be a hero on me here. If you aren’t feeling well, we can go at any time. Don’t soldier on on my account.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine,” he replied.
The rest of the meal was pleasant, but quiet. I reached my hand under the table to rub his knee to try to make a better connection while we chatted. That, and I was still worried about his condition.
When we finished dinner and desert, we had some time to kill. Smiles walked around the neighborhood looking for a massage parlor (legit, not sexual) in which to kill time before the birthday party. We couldn’t find one still open to take advantage of, so we hopped in a cab and made our way to the party.
When we arrived at the party, I was slightly overwhelmed by the crowd. I’d never been to a party so heavily skewed male in my life. I learned the birthday boy was gay, which answered a lot of questions for me.
We found a comfortable spot to plant ourselves and each grabbed a drink and something to nosh on. We made a friend and chatted with him a bit. He was an extremely jacked and cut black man who is an interior decorator. It was interesting hearing him talk about his occupation, all while looking at someone who looked like a personal trainer.
After some time, this man turned to us and said, “Oh. Are you two together?”
Both their eyes focused on me. The pressure was on. I didn’t know what answer Smiles was looking for, but I saw this as an opportunity to gauge his reaction. I tilted my head slightly to the side nodding and said, “Yeah.”
Our new friend called attention to and questioned my head tilt heavily. I pointed out we didn’t know each other all that long. I still look back and wonder if Smiles was actually looking for me to say yes. I still wonder if he was being distant because he thought I wasn’t fully invested in our budding relationship. Of course I wanted to say yes, we were dating, but I didn’t know where his head was at the time. I didn’t want to scare him off by being overzealous.
We were nearing the time to head out for the night, but I needed to use the facilities first. That was particularly a challenge because the bathroom was being used by a few to sign a birthday book photo album. Finally, I gave up and assumed I could go when I got back to Smiles’ apartment.
We went downstairs and hopped in a shared cab with one of the female guests from the party. As we progressed, I learned I would not be going back to Smiles’ apartment. My destination was the PATH to go home. I was slightly shocked and annoyed. It was a Friday night. Why wasn’t I being invited back to his place. I know I’d never been there before, but this was a bit ridiculous. It was around midnight, and I was dreading my trek back to Hoboken.
He hopped out of the cab with me. We said goodbye on the street with a quick kiss, and I was on my way home. I’m not gonna lie. I was hurt. I felt rejected. There was only so much rejection I could take.
As I walked, I pulled out my phone. I called Boston, but of course, he was still ignoring my calls. I left him yet another voicemail. I also called my new friend to see what he’s been up to. No answer either. Finally, I texted the Principal. It’d been a while since we chatted, so I thought I’d given him enough space. We began texting, but I told him I’d have to continue the conversation on the other side of the river.
While waiting for the PATH, I nearly p*ssed my pants. The train going into the city dropped off a tranny who felt the need to flirtatiously wave at me and say hi. When it finally arrived, I leaned my back against the wall and closed me eyes to concentrate on something other than my bladder. Two women were in front of me on the crowded train, and around a turn, one fell into me. They started arguing with each other and engaged me in conversation. Though not stated outright, I learned they were a lesbian couple, and they were hot. We had a long conversation, and when we arrived at the Hoboken stop, they invited me to come hang out with them. They had no idea my preferences fall in the men category, and they were inviting me back to their place. I used my bladder as an excuse and said goodbye. It was early enough, but I was not in the mood to play.
While speed walking home, a very large black girl grabbed my arm, pulled me towards her, and shouted, “TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU!” I ripped my arm free and continued to walk home, all the while texting with the Principal. I was flirting slightly, but not to the point of crossing the line with him. I missed talking to him and our flirtations. I really did like the guy, but the distance was still killer.
When I got home, I relieved myself and hopped into bed. I was disappointed I was there alone, but I opened up a whole new can of worms with the Principal. He still wasn’t over me, and I just scratched open that scab again. I even went as far as to pull up Grindr again for the first time in over a month.
It was just my luck. The one I wanted to be spending my night with just sent me on my way, while everyone I didn’t want anything to do with seemed interested in me.
Furthermore, I wouldn’t be seeing Smiles the following day. Originally I was planning to go to a horse race in New Jersey and invited him to join. When the day was approaching I was no longer interested in going and sold my ticket. I was hoping to spend the day with Smiles, but I learned he was going to Six Flags with friends — without me. I understand he has a life of his own, and I don’t have to spend every waking moment with him. But at this stage in our relationship, I wanted to spend more and more time with him. I certainly would have invited him on a fun trip such as the one he was going on. Apparently, he didn’t feel as strongly for me. A clearer picture was being painted for me. Maybe he just wasn’t that into me.
I realized things weren’t going as smooth as I would have liked, so I set myself on entertaining other ideas…Follow @onegayatatime
The official day arrived. Smiles was turning 36. He celebrated his birthday in conjunction with two friends a week earlier, which didn’t go so well for me. I wanted to rectify that situation.
I also wanted to dote on my new man for his birthday. I called him early in the afternoon to wish him a happy birthday and ask if I could take him out to lunch. The Ace Hotel is near my office and has two great restaurants and a bar adjoining it. Normally I’d let him choose, but I couldn’t wander too far from work on my lunch break.
I met him not far from the hotel on the street corner. I greeted him with a big ol’ kiss and a hug to say happy birthday. As we walked, he made comments about how casual my work attire was. He was under the impression people in advertising walked around in Mad Men suits all day. I explained how far off base he actually was.
As we walked, he reached down for my hand. I love it when he does that! We arrived at the first restaurant he chose, and after checking out the menus at John Dory, we decided to leave and hit up the other, The Breslin. I’d been there many times and absolutely love their lamb burger. I knew he’d be happier with the choice as well.
When the waiter asked if we’d like anything to drink, I declined, but encouraged Smiles to order a drink. He requested a dark and stormy. Without looking at the menu, I immediately knew what I wanted, and ironically enough, we both ordered the lamb burger. I also added another dark and stormy to the tab after seeing how refreshing his looked. Afterall, I work in advertising… It’s only natural to have a cocktail lunch, right?
Somehow the topic of conversation turned to religion. My mother was just telling me about a book a majority of my staunchly Catholic family read, Heaven is Real. We discussed the book and how we were brought up with religion. We even got as deep as to discuss our beliefs in a higher being. This is usually a risky subject for discussion, but the conversation remained casual and flowed while we ate. I think it actually brewed a stronger connection between us.
When the check came, I insisted on paying. He was pulling out his credit card, but I forced the server to walk away with just mine. There was no way in hell I was letting the birthday boy pay. “It’s your birthday. I told you I wanted to take you out to lunch for your birthday!” I exclaimed. After saying, “That’s an expensive birthday lunch. You really don’t have to,” he thanked me.
When we finished, he decided he wanted to grab a coffee. Since I met him, he has become addicted to the Starbucks salted caramel latte, or as he likes to call it, “his salty pretzel drink,” which I find adorable! While we waited for our concoctions to be made, he took the opportunity to lean his back against my chest. For me, the little things matter a lot. Those signs of affection really speak volumes. We got our coffees and walked towards my office a bit before saying goodbye. He was out of his downtown comfort zone, so I relished guiding him around to find a subway back home.
We said goodbye with a gentle kiss. I put him on the subway and made my way back to the office. Of course, I had a smile from ear to ear as I walked. It was a short encounter, but I was happy to get to see him. It was his birthday lunch, but I think I got more out of it than he did.Follow @onegayatatime
I woke Sunday morning and decided my time with Mr. Grindr was over. N was still trying to get with him, and that was a whole lot of drama I didn’t want to get into. I was disgusted by the whole thing. It reminded me constantly of the time I cheated on N just for the sake of evening a score. It reminded me of how much less of a man I was. I didn’t need it. Plenty of other fish in the sea. I think I kept him on the roster for so long as I did because I felt guilty for dragging him into the middle of N and I.
Since no one was in town, I did what I could to clear my head. I don’t do well alone. When I’m alone, I have nothing to distract me. I star to crawl up into my own head, and I don’t like what I find. I get depressed. I know this isn’t healthy, but denial is a wonderful thing! I decided to head down to the pier in Hoboken with a few magazines and my notebook to catch up on my blogging.
Of course, I couldn’t leave the house without my matchmaker, Grindr. And once again, I found myself spending more time searching and less time writing. I managed to reconnect with a guy I had been chatting with on an earlier day. He was a sexy black man from Jersey City. I have nothing against black men, but they’re not usually my type. However, I don’t discriminate, so I convinced him to come to the pier and hang out with me.
I had been in the sun a majority of the day and was enjoying myself. I sat and people watched and read Men’s Health and Details. He showed up a few hours later. We shook hands, and he sat next to me. We started with small talk, but as the day progressed, the conversation developed more substance. We shared a great deal in common. He looked like quite the athlete as well. He had nice arms and great legs. He kept his shirt on while we sat in the sun. I found this slightly odd, but to each his own. I just wanted to see what was under the shirt.
When I couldn’t take any more of the sun, I asked if he wanted to grab a drink. I was enjoying his company a lot. He seemed like a great guy. We packed up my blanket and other things and walked to nearby Trinity to sit by the waterfront and have a few cocktails. I hadn’t had lunch, so I ordered a large salad. We both got drinks outside our usual comfort zones and shared with each other. It was nice. We were having a good time. Eventually, he ordered some food as well.
I was pleasantly surprised. This was a completely last-minute unplanned date, and it was turning out to be quite good. I was also finding myself more and more attracted to him. He had an amazingly infectious smile.
After a few round of drinks, we took a walk along the waterfront. I hit a bit of a snag in keeping the date going. It was starting to get late, so I wanted to head back to my apartment, but I also wanted him to join me. But, I had my motorcycle and only one helmet. When we arrived at my bike, I explained the predicament and invited him to come back. I would have to ride home, and walk and meet him half way to my apartment. He agreed, so I sped off.
When we got to the apartment, I opened a bottle of wine, and we went out to the balcony to relax and keep the dialogue going. When 11:00 rolled around, he was ready to head home. I invited him to stay. He knew I was no longer interested in simple hookups. I made that clear early on, so he questioned my logic. I told him, “After spending the day with you, I feel comfortable and would like you to stay.” He graciously agreed, and we started making out on the balcony. After some time passed, I grabbed his hand and brought him back to my room.
The clothes came off, and that’s when I got a bomb dropped on me. All of a sudden, I knew why the shirt stayed on at the pier. While his legs and arms were quite toned and muscular, his mid section was very flabby. It was almost as if he had lap band surgery and hadn’t completed the skin restructuring. When I grabbed for his ass, it felt like a Ziploc of water. There was absolutely no muscle definition there. He wasn’t kidding when he told me he was a mathlete in high school, and not the football player I pictured him to be.
I’m sure I’m coming across very shallow at this point, but sexual attraction is 40% of a relationship for me. This was 40% I couldn’t get over. I can be very forgiving about a lot of things on a guy, but this was tough. I had been with a guy before who had this issue, but it was very slight. I looked past it. Tonight, I could, but this guy would not be back for seconds. I liked him a lot, but I was no longer sexually attracted to him. We still fooled around, and he spent the night with me, but I couldn’t picture myself repeating the night.
In the morning, we woke and got dressed. I explained how he could get to the light rail to head home. We kissed and he invited me to hang out again. He said I could come hang at his pool sometime. I appreciated this. He really was a nice guy. I could easily see us being friends, but we certainly would not be romantically involved. I gave him a kiss goodbye, and with that, he walked out the door.Follow @onegayatatime