Posts Tagged drunk

Cooler Heads Prevail

Preparing to get ready for the Scissor Sisters concert was a sh*t show and a half. This was twice now CK and I fought before going to an event. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever be able to go to these kinds of events without it turning into a fight. I had finally grown more comfortable with the crowds at these events, but I was growing uncomfortable with the idea of going with CK to them. Living up to what I thought were CK’s expectations was a lot of pressure to deal with.

CK and Hip were ready, but the tickets were nowhere to be found. After quite some time, Hip managed to find the tickets behind the couch. It seemed like he happened to know where they were in a moment of clarity. At this point, we quickly made our way out of the apartment to see if we could salvage what was left of the concert. Like the flip of a switch, CK began apologizing to me and asked me to come along and be happy. His main concern was getting to the concert, not whether or not we were okay. It was incredibly selfish, and it hurt a lot. We quickly hustled the ten blocks to the venue, but I skulked behind a few paces every turn we made. I was really hurting deep inside. Things weren’t going very well between us the way it was, but this took things to a new level. I wasn’t saying anything. I was in shock about what had transpired. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what I was still doing there.

I’m not good at putting on a smile and bearing down. I may have been present physically, but mentally, I was in a whole other world.

When we got to the doors at Terminal 5, a large mass of people were walking out the door. CK cut through the crowds heading in the exit only to find the concert had ended. Everyone was leaving. I stood on the street with my arms crossed because I knew there was no hope. I also wasn’t about to chase CK through a mass of people. When CK finally realized all hope was lost, his anger returned. Hip continued to apologize over and over again, but CK wanted none of it. I wasn’t upset in the slightest because I was in no mood to go to a concert. The three of us managed to find each other, and we all agreed we were starving.

I was pretty wasted, and we stumbled back towards his apartment searching for somewhere to grab food. We didn’t pass anything along the way, and CK mentioned getting take-out delivered. When we got back to his place, I hopped into bed immediately. I was hungry, but more importantly, I was drunk and upset. I wanted to go to bed to escape what was going on around me. I fell asleep in CK’s bed still fully clothed.

I woke the next morning to the sound of Hip knocking on CK’s door. Originally, we planned to go to the cloisters in north Manhattan, but those plans would never come to fruition. For some ungodly reason, Hip was wide awake with lots of energy. I, on the other hand, was incredibly hung over. Everything was too bright, too loud and too real. I just wanted to go back to bed and sleep off my hangover. Hip sat on the foot of the bed talking about the night before and asking a lot of questions. Apparently, he had even more to drink than I did. He kept asking if we actually ever made it to the concert, and this was really the last thing CK wanted to hear. Every time he brought up the previous night, it made CK grow more and more frustrated.

At one point, Hip excused himself to use the restroom. CK and I took the opportunity to chat while he was absent. I was still quite upset, but I wasn’t going to make a scene. This was the perfect opportunity to talk. I brought up everything from the night before and explained how none of it was okay. I point blank asked him what Hip handed him the night before. He responded, “I have no clue what you’re even talking about.” When I pushed the issue, he denied any recollection of it emphatically. After my suspicions and insinuations, he detailed how the only substances he partook in the previous night was alcohol. Based on his reaction and emphatic response, I believed him. I was not okay with how he acted or how he treated my, but I did believe him. I put my worries aside and took his word for it. I had no reason not to believe him. After our previous conversations on the subject, I wondered if maybe I had finally gotten through to him.

I told him if he ever lays a hand on me like that again, we’re done. He didn’t hurt me physically, and I did loved him. But, this was not something I would tolerate. The next time, I was actually walking out the door, and I was never coming back. I made sure he understood how serious I was about this. I wasn’t afraid for my own safety. I was more afraid for both of us. I didn’t know what would happen if things escalated out of control because we both had short tempers. I stressed this point numerous times. Again, he apologized emphatically. I could see his apology was genuine, and I accepted it. He loved me, and I could see it pained him to know how much he hurt me. He apologized for everything and I forgave him for everything. “Forgiven, but not forgotten. We will not go through this again,” I added.

We literally kissed and made up, but things didn’t stop there. He was very sweet in his remorse. Apparently, he was feeling a bit frisky. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started to make out, and when I pointed out Hip just on the other side of the bathroom door, he didn’t stop. As per usual, I woke in the morning raring to go, and CK took advantage of this. We were making out and my hands were exploring his entire body under the comforter. He was straddling me, and he reached down with his hand and sat on top of me. It was incredibly hot, but I was still a little self-conscious about the whole thing.

Just as I predicted, Hip emerged from the bathroom with CK still straddling me. I didn’t know what to do, but we didn’t immediately separate either. We both turned our gazes to meet his with a guilty look upon our faces. He knew exactly what was happening, but he went about his business accordingly. We all laughed at the situation as I slowly removed myself from CK. It was necessary to break the tension in the room.

We continued to lay around for a majority of the morning chatting and relaxing. Before Hip got back into the previous night, CK pleaded, “Can we talk about anything other than last night please?” After some time, we were finally able to motivate ourselves to get out of bed and face the day…

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Small Expectations, XL Frustrations

For weeks upon weeks, I stressed about Pride Weekend, and it finally arrived. CK wasn’t helping, and it exploded into an argument over the phone, culminating in a temper tantrum on my part.

We were finally able to come to an agreement, and I went back to packing a bag. Needless to say, I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the weekend ahead of me, but my nerves were slightly calmed after my chat with CK.

I made the voyage into the city to head to CK’s apartment. The plan was to head to XL that night. I’m not quite sure why, but none of CK’s friends were joining us that night. We had plans to hang with some of them the following day/night, but we were on our own for XL. I would have preferred to have more familiar faces around me in such an unfamiliar place, but that wouldn’t be the case. I got dressed with a little help from CK, but of course this turned into a bit of a heated discussion. Our nerves were very exposed, and he was encouraging me to expand my wardrobe comfort zone further than I was ready to. I wanted to fit in, but I still wanted to stay true to myself. I didn’t want to dress like everyone else there, however, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t stand out.

As we walked there, I was very quiet. CK and I were holding hands as we walked the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but all I could think about was how I could make myself feel comfortable in this foreign land. As we approached the entrance, there were gay men in every direction. I felt reasonably comfortable with my wardrobe choice and laughed to myself a little at some of the ridiculous outfits. I know this is going to come off as if I saw myself as better than them, but quite the opposite. I give them a lot of credit for feeling so comfortable in their own skin that they dress the way they do, but I could never pull it off. I would feel too uncomfortable and self-conscious, and then I’m absolutely no fun to be around. That was one of my main worries going into this weekend — I would feel uncomfortable, clam up, and I would be no fun to be with.

The cross-dressing boy checked our IDs, and we made our way inside to pay the cover charge. CK had some kind of VIP card and encouraged me to sign up for one with one of the boys holding iPads for just that thing. We paid, and I was a little shocked how expensive the cover was just to get in. Obviously, it was cheaper for CK since he was a member, but overall I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t aware of any talent performing that would justify the rate being so high.

As we made our way inside, I needed a drink bad! There were men in every direction, half without shirts on already. This wasn’t my kind of place. I liked the run-down pubs where the bartenders knew my name and they played good music. This, on the other hand, was a scene. We made our way to the bar and ordered drinks from a shirtless bartender who made me feel I needed to go to the gym immediately. I downed my first drink pretty quickly. The only way I would survive this would be with some help from some special spirits.

We made our way down to the dance-floor and started dancing and grinding with each other in front of the fog machine. I’m not sure why we didn’t relocate. At one point, I couldn’t breath, let alone see CK in front of me, and his back was pressed against my chest. Directly in front of me was a feast for the eyes. There were go-go boys dancing on the stage wearing very skimpy briefs. Some of the guys had the most gorgeous bodies with cute smiles, and it was hard to divert my attention at times. I even received a text from my old roommate asking me if I wanted to go out. I responded telling him where I was, and he jokingly responded reprimanding me for not inviting him. That’s when I responded with a picture message, to which he said, “Okay. Never mind. I’m good.”

I wasn’t the only one on his phone throughout the evening. CK was on his phone a lot when we were together, so this was nothing out of the ordinary, however, I wasn’t aware of the plans he was making over text. Minutes before he walked through the door, CK informed me the guy from his old building he used to hook up with would be joining us. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. I can be very reasonable, but the idea of hanging out with one of CK’s old hookups didn’t thrill me. It also didn’t exactly seem on the up-and-up since he waited until he was walking through the front door to tell me he was joining us.

When he arrived, CK gave him, who we’ll call Old News, a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was thrilled to see him. I swallowed my pride and extended a hand to shake his. From then on, and for quite some time, CK and Old News were deep in conversation. I felt like a third wheel in my own relationship.

We began to make our way to the bar to get another round. CK and Old News walked ahead of me, and as I climbed the stairs, a guy extended his arm out to shove me out of his way as he passed me. It was so obvious my mind flashed back to my days on the basketball court in junior high. He wasn’t being subtle at all. He was also messing with the wrong guy at the wrong time. I wasn’t about to let this little sh*t get away with it. I was already on edge on so many levels. I gave him a solid shove back in the opposite direction, so much that he stumbled down a stair. When his glance came back up to meet mine, I looked at him in a way of saying, “Go ahead. Bring it! What you got?” Me being 6′ 2″ and him being about 5′ 7″, he immediately turned and walked the other way.

When I got to the bar, of course CK and Old News were ordering and didn’t quite notice I was lagging behind. I understand the need to catch up, but I felt I had no part in the conversation. After I was handed my drink, I felt so outside the conversation, I simply walked away and stood at the railing overlooking the dance-floor. It took CK quite some time to even notice I’d stepped away.

From then on, Old News was attached to us. When we went to the bathroom, he came. When we danced, the circle was opened up to him. I didn’t think we would ignore him for the rest of the night, but I felt like he always made sure to put himself between myself and CK. I was shocked and  happy to say, I was actually having a great time with CK before he arrived. We were dancing shirtless and taking pictures in front of the fog machine and on stage. I finally felt comfortable in this new setting. I was no longer concerned with anyone else’s eyes on me. My only slight concern was CK’s eyes on anyone else. My whole mood went to sh*t the minute this intruder arrived. I wasn’t just dealing with being at the club anymore — I was having fun, but now I was back to being miserable again. I tried to be cordial with him, but I was not happy with his presence. He and CK hooked up at one point, and while CK assured me they were just friends, I was never quite sure Old News fully got that memo. I could tell he still had feelings for CK. He was very flirtatious, and took every opportunity to exclude me when possible.

In the middle of the night, a crazy drag queen named Ebonee Excell came out and performed. It was a welcome distraction. When the go-go boys came back out on stage, I recognized one of them from the Meet Me at the Ice Cream Truck music video.

Finally, our night was coming to an end. We were ready to head home. CK was hungry for sex, so we said our goodbyes to Old News and made our way back to CK’s bed. Old News may have garnered CK’s attention throughout the night, but in the end, I got to go home with him. He was my man! But, neither of us were quite expecting what was to come next…

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Happy Birthday to Me!

My birthday finally arrived. Normally, I don’t celebrate my birthday much. But, this year, I had more to celebrate. I had a loving boyfriend who treated me very well. I’d already received a birthday present more than I ever could have expected. Clark Kent was everything I wanted in a man, but unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to spend the day with him.

I left him that morning as he went to pick up his mother from the airport. I spent the night before in his bed and got quite a birthday surprise — Trapeze School tickets. He needed to fully utilize the time his mother was visiting to find a new apartment. He’d been dragging his feet, and the time came for some serious looking. I fully understood.

I made my way home early that morning. My old roommate started off the social media messages with a text to wish me a happy birthday. He was shocked I was up so early. I made my way home and began to get ready for my plans. I was heading to the pier for the day for a picnic of sorts. I grabbed my beach chair and packed a blanket, bocce ball, speakers, wine and food into my beach bag and asked my sister if she’d give me a ride so I wouldn’t have to lug everything to the pier in Hoboken.

As the day went on, friends came and went. They’d spend some time with me relaxing in the sun and chowing down on snacks.

At one point, we all got into a political discussion about gay marriage. It was interesting. I’d never really thought about marriage before because it wasn’t a priority. I didn’t even have a boyfriend. Marriage was something far, far away. I assumed by the time I was ready, the rest of the country would accept that choice and allow me to do so. Now that I had a boyfriend, things were different. I was a lot more passionate about the topic.

I had a blast. Many friends showed up and clinked Solo cups with me to celebrate another year on Earth. I was very happy so many showed up for my low-key celebration. There was no big destination. There was no cover. There was no commitment. It was simply a relaxing day doing what I wanted. If others felt inclined to join, they knew where to find me.

When we got bored, we broke out the bocce balls and played a few rounds. As the sun was setting, we decided to pack up. My sister contacted K to see if she would be willing to host a BBQ in her back yard. She was thrilled with the idea and began preparing immediately. I brought over some food to cook and everyone else pitched in. Even my old roommate, who I hadn’t seen in about a year, showed up.

We ate our fill of picnic food and played beer pong. I played with one of my old college teammates. Whenever we played together, we usually cleaned up. We started a little rusty, but we were doing pretty well against my sister and one other girl as well. It was great to finally play again. I have such a competitive streak in me, and it’d been some time since we played.

When it was nearly time to go, we gathered everyone around the table for a few rounds of flip cup. It was getting late, and we decided it was time to hit the bar. The whole group packed up and headed out the door.

I was missing my man. We checked in with each other over text throughout the day, but the search wasn’t going well for him. I was having a great time, but I felt bad for him. I wanted him by my side, but priorities were in order.

Some people split off from the group to head home for the night. On the walk to the bar, I heard a crash right in front of me at one of the cars. All I could think about was, “What drunk a$$hole just slammed into a parked… W!?” “Hey guys,” he said as he popped up from between two cars with his bike. I was laughing hysterically. He was just in a BUI incident. He’s lucky he didn’t cause serious damage to the car or himself, but it was still very humorous.

We continued to McSwiggans, my favorite Hoboken bar, and met up with more of my friends who were already there. We had a blast drinking and dancing all night. I was hanging out with my old roommate reminiscing about the good ol’ times. I stepped outside at one point to call CK to say hi and see how things were going. He was happy to hear I was in good sorts, but sad he couldn’t be there with me. I too was sad he wasn’t there, but I understood. We didn’t talk long cause I was neglecting my friends, and he was neglecting his mother.

I went back inside and joined the fun once again. I was getting drunk quickly. People were constantly buying me drinks, and I can’t drink like I used to. I’m getting old. At 28, you’re no spring chicken anymore.

The time came for me to go home. I said goodbye to the remaining people at the bar and walked home. I didn’t want to be hungover the next day, so I kept things in check. It was going to be a big day for me. I texted my boyfriend while I walked home. I wished he was waiting for me in my bed, but I knew it was quite a different scene. He was in his apartment sharing his with his mother.

Overall, I had a great birthday! They aren’t usually this cheerful — Usually, I’m quite glum on my birthday. I think I purposely downplay my birthday so I’ll never be disappointed. This one was pretty great, starting with waking up next to my Superman. I would end the day a happy man, and looked forward to tomorrow, the next time I’d get to see CK, as well as meet his mother…

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Tying Up Loose Ends

It was happening. I was falling for this great guy who managed to find me on Grindr. Who would have thought? I was still quite unsure how he felt about me, but I still had no luck finding a single fault in him.

I was prepared to take things slow with Clark Kent. I saw no need to rush things. Dating all these men in NYC helped me relax and enjoy things in real time. I didn’t need to think about what was coming next. I only needed to think about what was happening now. I was enjoying his company immensely.

That being said, I needed to tie up some loose ends. I had no desire to see any other guys while seeing CK. He was great, and he kept my attention. I didn’t want to wander and philander. I wanted him and him alone.

The first loose end to tie up was Southern Drawl. It took me two weeks to realize he wasn’t right for me. He’d gone home to the South to visit family, and it offered me a necessary reprieve from him. He sent me a few pictures from down there and a few texts. I responded in turn, but they were very short. When he asked how my day was going, I responded with what I’d done that day. “Well thanks for the play by play. Enjoy the rest of your week. Let me know if you wanna hang out again when I get back,” he responded. I wasn’t going to take that lying down. “Whoa! Where’s the hostility coming from?”

He apologized and explained he didn’t mean it that way. “How bout enjoy the rest of your week, and I look forward to hanging with you sometime when I get back 🙂 xoxo,” he added. I told him we only knew each other a short period of time and warned him not to get ahead of himself. I was using this turn of events to drive a rift between us.

He texted: “Well, that was a joke, but point taken. Wow! So I’ll go back to your statement from a few months ago. Ball is in your court. Otherwise, you won’t be hearing from me.” I reminded him to recall who picked that ball up again in the end. Then came the clincher: “Well, I guess I dropped it cause I’m being drunk and stupid again. Oh well. That ‘let’s not get ahead of ourselves’ $hit just irked me. So Grindr away, do your thing and hit me up if you want to hang out sometime. No hard feelings if not. I’ve learned my lesson about guys in the city and was a dumba$$ to think you could be different. But that’s my fault, not yours.”

I had my out. I wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that. I wasn’t going to try to foster a relationship with someone who made such accusations. We’d known each other two weeks, and I was already getting drunken rants. This wasn’t a good sign of what was to come.

In my book, he was done. I deserved an apology, and until I got one, I wasn’t going to communicate with him. I was going to give him a day to apologize. Just when I was about to inform him he’d killed any chance with me, he texted, “Had a rough night last night. Whiskey on the river. Bad combo.” This was an excuse, not an apology — Unacceptable. Two days later, I responded, “Still waiting for an apology. You were way out of line, and I did nothing to deserve your assumptions!”

He apologized profusely and cited more reasons why he’d been so harsh. “You’re an incredible guy, but if you never want to hang out again, I get it. But, for the record, I did miss talking to you and stuff this week,” he texted. He still seemed to be making excuses for himself. I didn’t respond. A day later, he said, “So, I guess that’s it then, huh?”

I was done with him. I told him from the start I don’t play these games. It seemed to be his mode of operation. I simply replied, “I think we should try friends for a bit. I get that you were drunk, but drunk minds speak a sober heart…” He asked if we could talk and tried calling me. I texted back telling him I was still at work, which was the truth. He started playing the martyr and going off on me. I told him to stop being so melodramatic. When I left work to grab dinner before returning to the office, I called him.

We talked for about a half hour. I explained to him all the things he did and how they were wrong. He didn’t even realize all the things he was doing. I pointed out how he was unloading all his baggage on me and how unfair that was. I did nothing to deserve that. I proposed we take a big step back and work on a legitimate friendship first. In reality, I was pretty much done with him. I was purely being polite. He was a decent guy, but he was a little broken.

He wasn’t satisfied with this and wanted to redeem himself, but I gave him an ultimatum. I said we could either be friends, or we could be nothing. That was his choice. It all depended on his future actions toward me.

As time progressed, and I was too busy to hang out with him when he asked me to, he began getting very snippy with me. I suggested a happy hour drink, but that went south fast. His sarcasm came out in full force until I said, “On second thought, maybe that was a bad idea.” I pointed out to him how combative he was toward me and said obviously this wasn’t going to work out between us. I gave him my work address so he could mail me back the sunglasses he borrowed from me. I didn’t even want to have to go through seeing him again. He’d gotten on my last nerve.

He told me how hurt he was by the whole thing, but I pointed out to him it was all of his own doing. He never treated me with trust and respect before he even had any reason to doubt me. I wasn’t going to take any more of his crap. I’d already dealt with enough. He couldn’t understand how his going off on a drunken tirade toward me was such a deal breaker. “It just doesn’t add up,” he said.

He was clearly hurting. I know this because he typed it out in black and white. “I’m miserable right now,” the text read.

He told me to delete him from my phone and he planned to delete me from his. In another instance, he said, “And for the record, I’m truly upset. You’re one of the good ones. And I’m a piece of $hit to write off apparently.” He wasn’t going to guilt me into liking him again. It was OVER!

That left two other loose ends to tie up. I had been meaning to text the Jersey City athlete for some time. He seemed like a really nice guy, and we got along great, but he was no CK. I needed to be fair to him and let him know what’s up. I texted him and said, “Hey dude. I def owe you a text and an explanation… I had a great time with you that one night, but at the same time, I’d also just met someone. I want to let you know I think you’re a great guy, but things have progressed. And, I want to give this a shot. I hope you understand and don’t take it personally! And I apologize since this message is long overdue!” He responded quickly, saying, I completely understand. I’m in a similar situation myself actually. When it rains, it pours, right?” I was happy to hear he was cool with things. I added, “LOL. Yes. Glad to hear. Maybe we can hang out again sometime and build a friendship?…” He responded, “I’d like that.”

After that, we chatted a few times on Facebook. I asked him how things were going with his new man, but learned the guy simply stopped responding to him. Turns out it was one of my neighbors. We still haven’t found time to hang out as friends, but I’m sure it will happen sometime. I need to have a gay friend nearby these days…

Middle Eastern and I hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. He’d text periodically to see how I was doing, but we made no plans to see each other. I was still a little put off from the time he told me he’d come over and never did.

At one point, he asked if we could hang out again. I told him that would definitely work. I was not opposed to hanging out, but that would be all that transpired between us. No more sex. No more intimacy. We’d purely be friends. It wouldn’t be easy, because we did have a great deal of fun in bed, but I had faith I could do it.

The time came for me to tell him I’d met someone else. “So anything new?” he texted one day. “Actually, yes. I’ve recently started dating someone. Been trying to figure out a way to bring it up… I hope you understand,” I responded. Immediately, he shot back, “Well, I’m definitely happy for you :). And I’m glad you told me. Kinda stung a little, not gonna lie about that.”

I felt really bad. I did like him a great deal, and I didn’t want to hurt him. There was no easy way to tell him, so honesty would be the only way to go. “Sorry! Hence my hesitation. You’re a great guy, and I hope we can be friends!! You kinda disappeared on me. Seemed like you met someone else. I put myself out there and met someone…” I added. He expressed how he was really happy for me and pointed out it just wasn’t meant to be. I told him he deserved someone young and fun and told him I really meant it about being friends. “Maybe. When I get over you. Of course I wanna be friends with you. We discussed grabbing a drink sometime, but that still had yet to happen. Some day we’ll find the time to hang out and become good friends.

And just like that, all loose ends were tied up. It wasn’t easy, but it was over. Now, I could concentrate all my efforts on the new man in my life — Clark Kent. The man who cut the roster down to one.

We tried to make plans to see each other during the week, but it never seemed to work out. Instead, we’d have to wait until the weekend to see each other again. It wasn’t easy, but it would have to do. I didn’t want to do anything to scare him off. I was too infatuated to lose him already. I would be patient. I would wait for things to happen naturally. I would finally do things right, and hopefully, by putting everything I’d learned from all the men I dated, I would find true love.

P.S. I still don’t have my sunglasses…

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A Child’s Plaything

A Thursday finally arrived where I didn’t have volleyball. I thought I would capitalize on this opportunity and do something with my night.

Southern Drawl was visiting home in the South, and I was in the process of dissolving things between he and I. Slowly but surely, I would draw back communications until it was over. I had a great date night with the Jersey City athlete the night before, and only time would tell where that was headed.

That left Middle Eastern. Things between he and I had become purely physical. I liked him, but I was not interested in a relationship with him. He was still in college and apparently entertaining other offers. We had chatted about us over text. He said, “I was just keeping my distance because I am getting too attached to you. And I don’t know what’s happening between us. It sucks because I miss you. Have you slept with someone else in the past week?” I said no. I lied because in truth I had slept with S.D., however, we didn’t have sex. “So what’s happening between us. I get nervous when I think about it. I have an amazing time every time I see you. I don’t want to get stuck in the just friends phase,” he stated.

I had been waiting for this question for some time. I told him, “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve taken things too fast in the past, and I’m trying to get away from that.” I was being honest now. I didn’t know what we were. We were both on the same page that we enjoyed each other’s company, and we were having fun together in bed. He would send me scandalous picture messages of himself and tell me how much he wanted to see me. I’d put him on the back-burner for a little bit since he grew quite attached. We also went through the Grindr thing, so I wanted things to cool down. He added, “I honestly still don’t know how you feel about me. I’m not asking you to be in a relationship or anything. I know you’ve told me where you stand.” I reassured him, “Just taking it one day at a time and enjoying it along the way. I like you, and if I didn’t, I’d have moved on a long time ago.  He responded, “I’m enjoying this too. I don’t know. Like it’s a little hard because I wanna have fun, but in my mind, I have fun and emotions kind of together. So, it’s hard for me to say I’m not emotionally attached to you in any way. So I just get a little scared because I thought you’re going to move on when you get bored with me.”

I explained further, “I never said I wasn’t emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this is, but I can assure you it’s more than just sex!” He apologized for being a head-case, and we began to discuss our plans for the evening.

That being said, I did want to be with him. He was great in bed, and it had been some time since I last had sex. I texted him to see what he was up to. “Busy tonight?” I texted. He was still in class, but he had plans to come to Hoboken later that evening. I told him, “So I take it you met someone else…” He adamantly denied meeting someone else and told me he would possibly be able to swing by after class. “Maybe I can sneak out. I really want to see you,”he added. We continued to talk over text trying to make plans to see each other. I didn’t really fit into his plans that evening, but he was making an effort. He got me horny, and I sent him some of my sexier pictures. He responded, “No, no. Don’t do this to me! I’m in class, and I’m wearing tight pants!” I laughed at the thought and continued to send more pictures.

Eventually, he had to bail on coming to see me before going out with his friends in Hoboken. I had been sitting on the couch waiting for him and was quite disappointed. “I hate disappointing you,” he shot back. I simply sent him another sexy picture. He told me he would sneak away from his friends and come see me at some point. When 9:30 rolled around, I sent him a text telling him to have a fun night. Around 11:00, I texted him again. “Wish I didn’t get my hopes up, ” I added for dramatic effect. He apologized, but I was already quite disappointed and ready to move on from him.

He texted the following day to let me know he was using my picture to pleasure himself. I didn’t respond. He told me he would swing by the previous night, and he didn’t deliver. I sat at home alone on the couch in hopes he’d come, and he never did. I was angry with myself for getting so caught up in him. I decided I needed to move on from him. My roster was now cut down to one single possibility.

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Meeting the Hatfields

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

Southern Drawl was very anxious to see me. Before our last date ended, he asked me, “So, when do you get to see me again?” It was a bit egotistical, but it was also a little cute.

I had plans with other guys for the rest of the week with the exception of my volleyball game on Thursday. We agreed to do happy hour after work on Friday to get the weekend started off right. He was going to the Frying Pan, a permanently parked barge on the Hudson River that doubles as a restaurant/outdoor bar, with a group of his coworkers. Apparently, he was comfortable enough to introduce me to them.

He was already there when I made my way across town to meet him. He worked right across the street, so there was a solid crowd present from work. I found them in the crowd and pulled up a chair to the table. Everyone was very welcoming and nice. They immediately offered me a cup of sangria, and I settled in. I joined the big conversation, and Southern Drawl and I had a few side conversations not meant for the table.

I wasn’t sure to what extent he was out to his coworkers, so I played a vague roll. I didn’t show any signs of affection or do anything that would be a severe tell. I had a good time.

When everyone was ready to go, we started walking. We were heading to his apartment, but we walked with the others until they peeled off to head in separate directions. It was then I was informed that this was a big deal. None of the other guys he dated had met his coworkers. Only one or two of them knew he was gay, so this was somewhat of a public coming out. I’m sure his coworkers would put two and two together if he was inviting a man to join them for drinks. It was flattering he was willing to do that with me.

Since before I met S.D. in person, I’d learned of his incredibly flamboyant and promiscuous roommate. We talked about him to quite an extent on the walk.

I could not have been prepared for his apartment when I walked in there. It was an utter dump! His roommate was lounging on the couch when we arrived. S.D. needed to change before we went out for the rest of the evening. I chatted a bit with his roommate, and he certainly had a strong unwarranted air of superiority. We didn’t get along, but we didn’t clash either. He was a non-entity to me.

Meanwhile, I made a comment about S.D.’s shoes, and I was ripped a new one. He went off on me how expensive they were and how dare I downplay them. I was dying to get out of that apartment, and S.D. was dragging his feet.

He told me his friends from back home in the south were going to be out on the Lower East Side since one of them worked at Brother Jimmy’s. We decided to pick a place in the neighborhood to grab dinner before drinking our faces off. We found a nice Italian restaurant, Pete’s Tavern and shared a delicious pleasant meal. Things were starting to feel comfortable with him. All the awkwardness melted away. We had great conversation and kept each other on our toes. The conversation was great, but I began to wonder if I was sexually attracted to him. When he sent pictures to me, I found him to be quite attractive, but since being with him, I didn’t get excited or aroused by him. We hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, but I wondered if when I came to that bridge, would I even want to cross it. On top of that, we hadn’t discussed positions since we first spoke on the phone. He told me he didn’t have much experience in the bedroom originally. He said he never really bottomed, but he may be willing to experience it. Since then, I got a different picture learning about the long-term relationships he’d been in. I wondered if they were sexless, or was he lying. We were two tops, and that was going to pose a problem as some point.

After we finished dinner, we walked to Brother Jimmy’s to meet his friends. He was excited to introduce me to them. They’d already seen pictures of me and predicted I was a far better man for him to date than the one he just let go. They already loved me before even meeting them, so it was my game to lose.

S.D. introduced me to them, and we hit it off pretty swimmingly. His best friend, a female, pulled me aside to talk and gossip. We chatted, and she expressed how much she liked me. “You’re just the right amount of gay,” I was told. I’d always thought that about myself, but it was still interesting hearing someone say this to me. Even the friend, the girl who was working behind the bar planted a kiss on me, right on the lips. It was a pleasant surprise. I was a hit!

S.D. also told me his friend from work, “his little buddy,” was joining us. This kid was gay and even lived with S.D. on the couch for a period. They were very close and best friends of sorts. When this kid arrived, I was introduced to him. He seemed very nice, and we exchanged small talk. Almost immediately, S.D. and he separated from the group and began chatting the night away. It was obvious to me S.D. had a crush on him. I wondered if the little guy just wasn’t interested in S.D. and that was the hangup for why they weren’t together. I felt incredibly neglected. I was getting quite drunk, and that usually peaks my emotional state. I was very close to walking out the door and going home without a word but better judgment kicked in.

After we watched someone who looked like Snookie do an amazing rendition of Adele for karaoke, I was ready to go home. I was drunk, and I was trying to see past how he ignored me. Even after all I drank, the bartender charged me seven dollars.  I’m still not 100% sure why, but I asked S.D. if he wanted to come back to my place and spend the night. I think I wanted to test our sexual chemistry. I wasn’t looking for sex. Clearly that wasn’t possible in the state I was in. I just wanted to get somewhat physical with him.

We made out way back to my place and quietly made our way to my room. We climbed into bed to spoon, and I passed out quickly.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke up in the morning, we started spooning and fooling around. There was a lot of heavy petting and oral pleasuring. It wasn’t long before he was straddling my chest fondling himself. It also wasn’t long before he excited himself so much he finished right on my chest. He asked for my permission, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen almost immediately.

We lounged in bed for some time before I made us breakfast. There was a bit of a schedule for the morning, however. My parents were coming into town for Easter weekend. I needed to get him out of there before they arrived. Just as we finished eating, I got a call from my parents. They were downstairs. I told S.D. to quickly get dressed and make his way down the back stairwell. He was fine with this, and we agreed we’d chat later on the phone. I hustled him out the door and kissed him goodbye.

One minute later, I threw on flip-flops and went down to greet my parents. They didn’t make a single comment about the guy leaving my building. I had yet another celibate weekend in front of me, and this was a good thing.

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Revisiting the Past

Relationships aren’t easy. No matter whether you’re friends or lovers, each relationship is accompanied by its own set of issues. When you introduce sex into these relationships, things get exponentially more complicated.

Tuesday, I engaged in unprotected sex with M.E. It happened in the middle of the night in the passion of a moment, however, there is never an excuse. People’s lives are at stake. I tell you about the poor decisions and the mistakes I’ve made because I hope you can learn from them.

From that morning on, I was on damage control. I’d already talked to him about what transpired between us, and we agreed to get tested and share our results to ensure we were safe going forward. I called a doctor’s office and made an appointment that Wednesday following work to have an STD test.

As I walked into the doctor’s office, I noticed a few other men sitting in the waiting room. I had never been to this facility before. I was curious if they were there for the same thing I was. I began to wonder what was going through their heads. Were they petrified? Were they already infected? etc. I myself began to worry a little. I wasn’t particularly worried until I walked into the waiting room. There was nothing I could do at that point, so I tried to calm my nerves. The only good part about this was it made me quite ready to fill a cup with my urine sample. They also drew blood and told me to call in three days for my results.

Now, it was the waiting game. I couldn’t do anything and would have to wonder for three days.

That night, I had plans with P to go see Silence, The Musical. After my tests, I walked all the way downtown to meet her for dinner near the theater. Dinner was very nice. I got her caught up on all the latest action in my life. She’s always incredibly supportive, even when I make poor life choices.

We went to the show, and about two minutes in, I noticed how attractive one of the male actor/dancers was. It was a small theater, and any time he was on stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When they came out for curtain call, he caught my eye, and we made eye contact. There was a bit of an awkward moment, but I was crushing a bit.

I wasn’t intimidated because I’d already dated someone who worked on Broadway. This was Off-Broadway. I didn’t think twice about what I was about to do. That night, when I got home, I decided to do some research (and when I say research, I mean stalking). I pulled out the Playbill and looked to see if I could find him on Facebook. Much to my surprise, he was on there. I decided to message him. What the hell, why not? What did I have to lose?

I’m sure you’re wondering who this is, and I really hope this doesn’t come off incredibly creepy. I myself can’t believe I’m about to send you this. (And, something tells me I may not be the first).
First off, I came to see Silence tonight and thought you were incredibly cute and incredibly talented. Your mother must be so proud.
Second off, I have no idea if you’re single or even gay. But gay or straight, single or taken, I’d love to strike up a conversation with you. On the flip side, I fully understand if this makes you uncomfortable. 
Anyway, with nothing to lose but a little dignity, I thought I’d give it a shot. Hit me back if you’re interested in chatting some time. If not, enjoy the flattery…

Then, I noticed he was a friend of Broadway, the guy I dated for ten months. I pulled out my phone and texted him to see what their relationship was. His response was, “Who is that?” I explained who he was and how they were Facebook friends. “Oh yes. We audition together. HOT!! You dating?” I told him, “No. I just cold called him on Facebook after seeing his show… LOL. We’ll see what happens. Think I creeped him out?” He felt I did creep him out, but I explained how I had nothing to lose.

Sadly, I never heard back from him. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Much later that night, I received a text from the guy I had sex with when I cheated on N. We’d been texting a bit recently after noticing each other on Grindr. He asked if I was up. I replied, and he asked if he could come over. Apparently, I was getting a booty call. It was about 11:30, but I didn’t see the harm. After all, I did fantasize about the first time we had sex quite often. It was something my mind went back to many times. This isn’t because of the cheating. It was simply because the sex was that good.

He came over, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit. He immediately commented on how crazy it was that my new apartment looked exactly like my last. He began taking his shoes off before hopping on the bed with me. He immediately began making out with me interspersed with conversation. He never got closure with how messed up things ended between him, N and myself.

He wanted to talk a lot about him. I would have been fine if N never even came up in conversation. I learned they got together once after I told him to take a hike. It was hysterical how much their accounts of this encounter were completely different. The only commonality was how much disdain they had for each other. At one point he mentioned how dirty N was. I asked him to clarify as in physically or as in naughty. He then went on to describe a particular body part that would only have been encountered during sex and how disgusting it was. He then went on to tell me they never had sex. He told me N just gave him a blowjob and he finished on his face. He pointed out his surprise I ever dated N. N’s account of the story was they met on the street. After seeing him, he couldn’t believe I would hook up with someone so ugly, let alone cheat on him with someone of that caliber. All I could do was laugh my a$$ off in my head. These two were ridiculous. I was so happy I cut things off with both when I did.

After the N conversation concluded, he really wanted to have sex with me. He mentioned how amazing it was the last time we hooked up, and he told me he hadn’t had sex with a man since the previous summer. I told him how hot it was last time we hooked up and how I referred back to it many times in my mind. With that, the clothes began to strip off.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were intertwined in each other’s embrace making out. I found myself lying on my stomach with him on top of me. I knew he would try to penetrate me, but I wasn’t game for that. The last time he did that, I sprang from the bed because he did it with no preparation and full force. I wasn’t about to let that happen again. He tried and tried, and I never relaxed to allow entry. I think he got embarrassed with his fumbling, and he made a comment. I complimented him and told him he was too large for me. We switched positions, much to his chagrin, and now I was the one on top. He was on his back, and I put his legs up on my shoulders.

He told me how much he enjoyed me inside him because I hit his prostrate just right. With that, I slipped inside him. It felt amazing. It was just as good as the last time I played over and over again in my mind’s eye. He loved it too. After a short while, he finished on his abdomen. Seconds later, I alerted him I was about to finish. He replied, “I want you to shoot inside me,” and I did. For me, this was a first, and it felt incredible.

I’m not sure why, but I had no problem finishing this time. It completely came naturally and without over thought. I felt amazing and incapacitated all in one. We lay there next to each other speechless for a minute before even moving or talking. We were in euphoria.

When that wore off, I became the topic of conversation. N told him about the blog when everything went down. He told me he read part of it and still didn’t understand why I wrote it. He also asked this story not make an appearance, but I find it too important to exclude. He pointed out I was looking for a boyfriend, and that was not what he was looking for at all. He pointed out how I was going about things all the wrong way if I wanted to find love. I explained to him all my trials and tribulations and what I was looking for in the end. He fully understood.

Then he made a comment about how stupid we were to not use a condom. I agreed. I’m sure he was far more worried about the situation than I was since I finished inside him. Apparently, with everything I’ve been through, I still didn’t learn my lesson. I wasn’t being responsible.

This was my wake-up call. I’d hit rock bottom. I’d gotten so reckless with my life. I needed to stop before I did something that could end my life. What was I doing? How could I be this stupid? This wasn’t how to find love — Having unprotected sex with the guy I cheated on my ex with. No more excuses. No more Grindr hookups. No more strangers. If I wasn’t finding love, I would be single and celibate for some time until I got myself under control. This was my turning point.

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Southern Drawl

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

During my week off from work, I was laying in my bed on Grindr on my tablet. Much to my surprise, the southern guy from OKCupid I connected so well with over the phone popped up. Last I heard from him, he was seeing some guy. That was the reason he gave me for never following through to meet up with me. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with how it all went down. I left a really bad taste in my mouth. I really didn’t want to ever give him a chance, but I was constantly drawn to how well we hit it off when we talked on the phone.

I messaged him, “Well, look who it is!” He responded, and we began chatting a bit. He asked how I was and started getting a bit flirtatious. I told him I was well and pointed out his flirting would not work on me. He’d already turned me off by shooting me down. I detailed for him all the advances I made on him and pointed out how he never even took the time to meet me.

He pulled out the excuse that he wasn’t looking to meet someone else — It just happened. He kept trying to get pictures out of me. I told him I was not looking for sex, especially from him. I pointed out that if he wanted to grab a drink as friends, I would be down, but I wasn’t going to send him pix and do the whole Grindr flirting thing.

I’m not proud of this, but I had an internal conflict in my head. Part of me wanted to steal him away from the guy he was currently seeing. Another part of me wanted to make him fall for me and then dump him. I’m not that kind of vindictive guy, but I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind.

I decided then and there to form a game-plan. I was going to present myself as I am. I wasn’t going to try too hard or be someone I wasn’t, i.e. someone he wanted. I was just going to display my best self. If he happened to choose to go on a date with me, that was his choice, not mine. We exchanged pictures, none of which showed the goods. This is what really seemed to reel him in. He was certainly responding to visual stimuli. He really started getting chatty. I’d already learned he was still seeing someone, but he let it slip that it wasn’t the person he was going on the date with when he dropped me like a bad habit. I called him out for not calling me when things ended with the first guy. I put it all on him. I was running him through a guilt gauntlet. I made myself quite a prize for him to attain. Now, I had his attention. I wasn’t going to chase him. I set the bait, and he was going to chase me.

After more flirting and exchanging of pictures, we made plans to grab drinks after work Monday evening. We agreed upon Chelsea Manor, but when I arrived there, it was closed. He met me shortly thereafter, and we began to walk to find a bar to go to. I met him on the street with a very awkward handshake. He seemed very aloof. I had a feeling this was going to be an awful date!

We found a bar nearby, The Guilty Goose, and sat in the front window drinking a few rounds of beers. I quickly learned how homophobic he was. I’m a fan of guys who aren’t into the scene, but he was so far removed. It was alarming. He wouldn’t even walk through the “gay part” of Chelsea. I wasn’t asking him to go to a gay bar, but that was the neighborhood between his office and mine. There were plenty of places to go that weren’t gay bars.

We chatted over our beers and kinda hit it off once again. After three rounds, he asked if I was hungry, and we decided to grab dinner together. He knew of a good Thai place nearby, so we went there. We ordered a bottle of wine and our food. We didn’t need the bottle of wine. I could tell he was getting quite intoxicated. I was still pretty lucid, but I didn’t want to be drinking that much on a Monday night.

He started getting very flirtatious and sexual. At one point he removed his shoe and began massaging my crotch. I was wondering how the guy he was dating would feel about this. I wasn’t going to move things across the line, but if he did, I wasn’t going to stop him. Some other guy stole him away from me when I was trying to court him. It wouldn’t be my fault if he came to me while seeing someone else. I will say, I egged him on a little by unzipping my pants and offering a challenge to his dexterity. He wasn’t able to maneuver his foot into the opening. Then he tried using his hand, reaching far under the table. When I felt the waitress noticed the under the table horseplay, I got embarrassed and told him to put his shoe back on.

We paid our bill and made our way toward the PATH for me to go home. Apparently, he wasn’t done with me. “I’m really enjoying hanging out with you. Let’s grab another drink.” My goal for the first night was to set the bait, not to win him over. I was very cautious with him. He seemed like a wanderer. I didn’t want to take things too fast with him. He was going to have some decisions to make, and I didn’t want to force his hand with excitement. I wanted him to have the time to choose.

We plopped down at the bar at Jake’s Saloon and ordered a round. He placed his hand in my crotch and began groping me a little. I was getting drunk, so I upped the ante slightly. I put my hand down his pants and began groping him as well. He was making an attempt to do the same with me when I stopped him. He wasn’t very good at not being obvious. That’s when my mind began to develop a plan. I suggested we casually use the bathroom. I would go, and he would follow one minute behind. I wasn’t looking to have sex. I was simply thinking a little making out with some heavy petting.

I went into the bathroom stall, and he followed close behind. He began kissing me and unzipped my pants. He suggested “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” We both stood there with our manhood in our hands when he bent down and began licking the tip of mine. It was time to go. I did not want the bartender walking in on us. We put the boys away, zipped up and casually walked back to the bar.

We finished our beers and made our way for the door. I was saying goodbye to him outside the bar because we would be heading in separate directions. I brought up how he was seeing someone else, and I didn’t want to get involved with someone who was involved with someone else. Better judgment was kicking in. I was noticing how his wandering eye would be a problem. If he was willing to dump his current guy for a better model, who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to me. I was proceeding very cautiously. He assured me things with the other guy were already on their way out. He’d had doubts before even meeting up with me. He wasn’t willing to really kiss me, and when I called him on it, his inhibitions dropped a bit. We kissed a lot. I told him he needs to shape up if he wanted to pursue anything with me. Outside all the sexual flirtations, we really did click. We shared a lot in common and the conversation was good. I wasn’t thrilled he was so southern, but I’m sure that would be something I could get over.

There was potential here, but like I said, I was proceeding with caution. He was far from perfect, but I did like him. This wasn’t simply a game of cat and mouse. This was the first time I truly played the game with purpose, but he was the end goal. Only time would tell if anything meaningful would blossom…

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Chelsea Comes to Hoboken

My Friday off was certainly an eventful one. I spent the better portion of the afternoon planning and participating in my first real threesome. I was already starting to judge myself and question all my recent behavior. A large part of me knew this was not who I was. I was completely acting out, but another part of me realized these were my gay “formidable years.” I never hooked up with guys in college while all my male friends were taking girls home from the bar. This was my wild time. Basically, I was giving myself license to have emotionless sex for sport.

That being said, I was still searching for the guy who would get me off Grindr and be the reason to settle down. I’d already gone on one good date with Chelsea. He asked what my plans were for the evening. I told him I had none since I had the day off, and he asked if we could do something together. I didn’t feel like doing anything crazy or going out, so I requested a lazy night in and suggested he come to my place. “Cuddle night?” he replied. “Definitely,” I said.

I still felt a little disgusted with myself for my afternoon behavior, but I also hoped maybe he could help distract me. He would certainly be something to get my mind off it. I took all my sheets off my bed and threw them in the washing machine. I hopped in the shower once again. I needed a cleanse.

I texted him back and told him I would make us dinner, and we could watch a movie. He agreed that sounded like a great idea, but he told me he’d already eaten. I made myself something quick before he came over.

“Do I have to come back to NYC late by myself?” he added. I told him he could certainly spend the night. In fact, I would very much enjoy that. He tried to convince me to come into the city, but I wasn’t about to budge. I’d already done one date in his neighborhood. I didn’t want to go into the city that evening since I wasn’t already there for work. He painted a better picture of what I was asking him to do: “Mind you, I don’t even go see my friends in Brooklyn. So this better be scoring me some hefty points! Haha! LMAO. You can ask my friends how much of a NYC snob I am. I’m like who? What? Why? Do I need a passport? And does Jet Blue fly there?” I quickly responded, “This isn’t my first rodeo. You’re not the first guy I’ve stolen out of the city.” Every guy I’ve convinced to come over to Hoboken has fallen in love with it and become an advocate. I am slowly introducing the NYC gay community to the great city of Hoboken one gay at a time :).

He agreed to stay over, as long as we agreed to behave. I told him I had no problem with that, and I appreciated him wanting to take things slow. I was very surprised by this, considering we met on Grindr, and I learned he’d done the hookup thing more than a handful of times.

When he arrived, I got him some comfortable clothes to wear, and we settled in on the couch with a few refreshments. We went through the guide trying to find a movie to watch. Finally, we settled on Drive, with Ryan Gosling. We laid on the couch with him in my arms the entire film. It was nice to snuggle with a man. It was very romantic. We both thoroughly enjoyed the movie, and when it was over, it was decently late. We decided to head to bed.

I found it adorable he didn’t take his shorts and shirt off when we went to bed. I don’t exactly sleep naked, but I have a hard time sleeping with clothes on. I find them restricting. I stripped down to my boxer briefs and encouraged (playfully removed the shorts I lent him) him to get comfortable before spooning with him a little. He warned me about getting too fresh, but I told him to relax. “I’m just trying to cuddle, not rape you. Stop fussing,” I jokingly stated. He did relax, and we got into a comfortable spooning position before finally dozing off for the night.

That night, neither of us slept very well. He was a thrasher and constantly woke up. I didn’t mind too much because I didn’t have anything to do the next day but lounge around. It was nice change to be sharing my bed with such a sweet guy. This had potential, and we certainly weren’t rushing things…

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Meeting Chelsea

It was another day at work and another day on Grindr. I was back to work after my relaxing and fun day off. It’s not easy jumping right back in the grind after a four-day weekend, but I still have to pay the bills.

I decided to pull up Grindr when I went to the gym on my lunch break. I started talking to a few guys, but I was more enamored with some of the hotties live in front of me picking up heavy things. They were very motivating in an “I could look like that” kind of way. Every once in a while I checked to see who messaged.

One of the guys who responded to my message was absolutely jacked. I knew messaging him was a shot in the dark. I never expected a response from him. We chatted a bit before he asked for my picture. I wasn’t able to send it through, so I asked for his cell phone number. I sent him the picture, and he blocked me on Grindr. I was very disappointed, because in the little time we chatted, he seemed like a really nice guy. I texted him and asked if he blocked me. He apologized and said I wasn’t his type. He explained he was really just looking for steroids. I told him I couldn’t help him there. “They are illegal in my country,” he added. I told him they are illegal here as well.  This was news to him. I told him if he was looking for them, his best bet was at the gyms.

We chatted a bit more, and I told him he seemed like a really nice guy. He returned the compliment. Since I wasn’t really able to help him with what he needed, and that was really all he was looking for, the conversation ended.

That night, I went home alone. I was okay with that. I’d been having more than my fair share of sex lately. In the meantime there was another man I met on Grindr. This one seemed like a really good guy. We hit it off almost immediately, and a strong connection grew between us. We were both there for the right reasons. Ideally, we each really wanted a boyfriend. We both had our transgressions in the past on Grindr. Part of me was leery about that. Another part of me was quite happy. It meant he wasn’t a wet noodle, like many of the guys from OKCupid.

We made plans to go out Wednesday night after work. When I had finished work I walked his apartment. We didn’t have real concrete plans, but we were going to go out for a drink. He apologized because he was still doing laundry, and he invited me inside until he finished. It would only be a few minutes. He greeted me at the lobby, and we went up to his apartment with a pit stop in the laundry room to pick up his clothes. I was pleasantly surprised how nice is one-bedroom apartment was. I knew he had a good job but I didn’t know it was that good.

Since we didn’t have a game plan, I defaulted to him. We were in his neighborhood after all. We agreed on Mexican and margaritas. Salsa Y Salsa was nearby, and he knew some of the wait staff, so we headed there.

We had a cute table in the middle of the restaurant. It was very crowded for a weeknight. We chatted a bit before deciding on the flavor of margaritas we wanted. It was nice conversation. We got along swimmingly. He was a little flamboyant, but no more than I imagine I really am. It was nice because there were no awkward pauses. We both very much enjoyed our drinks and our meals. We decided to order a few things to share as appetizers and then shared a few bites of our meal choices with each other. It was romantic and comfortable. The more he drank, the more flirty he became. I didn’t have a problem with this, but it was interesting to watch the slow transformation. We had ordered quite a few rounds of drinks before we were both stuffed and ready to head out.

Early in the night he told me he may be having a few people over to watch the premier of Happily Divorced. He wanted to make sure he got home before it aired. He also invited me to join.

When we got the bill, I was shocked to learn we were each only charged for one drink. Chelsea was friends with the Brazilian waiter who served us. Over dinner, I came to learn he had quite a few Brazilian friends. Of course, we left him a very generous tip.

When we got outside, there was an awkward moment of “now what?” I offered to walk him home since we weren’t far from the PATH. When we got to his apartment building, a girl was standing outside smoking. We chatted with her for a few minutes before she went back inside. He paused awkwardly for a minute before finally asking me up to his apartment. His plan of having friends over for the premier went by the wayside.

He was excited for Happily Divorced, so we sat on the couch watching the episode. I decided to hang out for one episode before making my way home. A short bit into the show, I put my arm around him, and he nuzzled in the crook of my arm. It was nice cuddling with him. When a commercial finally came, we kissed — Slow at first, but then passionately. He was a good kisser. I appreciated his skills. When the show ended, we began making out a bit. He pulled me to the bed, and we spooned a bit. He already laid down the ground-rules that there would be no sex until the appropriate time. I was happy with this. He invited me to stay the night, but I graciously declined. I needed to go home before work the next day, and I liked taking things a little slower than I had in the past.

With that, he kiddingly kicked me out so he could go to bed before a crazy workday the following day. I decided to head over to my office three blocks away and take a car home.

It was a good night, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I was looking forward to seeing him again and the possibilities the future may hold.

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