Posts Tagged drunk
Blackout Regret & Poor Life Choices
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 5, 2011
On Thursday, I talked to N on GChat during work hours. It was simple banter. At the same time, I was confiding in NC. We talked about the conversation we had, and he consoled me. He told me, “You’re a good looking guy, good job, etc. Don’t set yourself up to get hurt.” I said, “Thanks! I really needed that!” “It’s true,” he said. “It’s true. I woulda hooked up with you. Not that it means much.”
I had a feeling this was true. I could feel the sexual tension when he stayed the night in my roommates bed. I responded, “And yet, you didn’t. Haha.” “Had I had a few more drinks and wasn’t planning on moving in with you, I woulda suggested cuddling that night,” he replied. This was welcome information considering I felt the same way that night, so I let him know: “And had you not been planning to move in, I totally would have.” I further thanked him and explained, “I know I’m hot and I’m a catch, but for someone to do this to me, sapped a bit of my confidence…”
By the end of the day, N informed me he was going to a work function following work. Thursday was a typical night for me to meet up with friends at my favorite bar, but I wasn’t particularly in the mood to go out with them.
Instead, when I got home, I texted my new gay gym buddy and asked if he was going to be at the gym. He was, so I told him I’d meet him there. Over the past few weeks, I saw him periodically, and we chatted. I would keep him in the loop on my failing relationship, and he would chat with me about his issues. Together, we were providing a little bit of therapy for each other.
I got there and had a chat between lifting. I could tell he was starting to get better, but I certainly was headed downhill since he first met me. I didn’t want to drag him back down with me, so I only told him some of the highlights.
When I was nearly finished lifting, N texted me, “Hey. You wanna go out tonight?” Of course my heart lept a little. I was happy he wanted to spend time with me. Maybe this friendship thing wouldn’t be so hard. Maybe we could shift right into friendship mode with no speed bumps. I played it coy, however. I asked him what time and where. Then, I informed him I was still at the gym and had to go home, shower, eat, and then I would be ready. Since he was still at his work function, the timing would work out perfectly.
As I left the gym, I wondered if this was a group thing or just the two of us. We still had a few things we needed to chat about, and I wasn’t sure if tonight was going to be the time for that conversation. I had said to him, “Maybe sometime we can get drunk and put it all out there and have a good laugh about this.” But maybe this wasn’t that sometime.
After I showered I came out to the kitchen to find L there.. I filled her in on the latest details and began to pour myself some Johnnie Walker. I texted N and asked him what time he wanted to hit the bar and asked where we were headed. He informed me he couldn’t find anyone to go out and asked what I wanted to do. I told him I would hit up my friends and see what I could round up, but I still wanted to go out regardless.
Apparently, it wasn’t going to be just the two of us. I was able to find two friends who were willing to go out, and I told them I would keep them in the loop when I knew what the plan was.
N texted and said he wanted to save some money by pregaming. He asked if he should grab a bottle from the liquor store to replenish some of the liquor he drank at my apartment. I graciously accepted the offer and told him I would see him in a few.
I was two glasses of scotch deep at this point, and my conversation with L was getting quite silly. Not sure why it hit me so fast, considering I can hold my liquor like a champ! After 20 minutes, I texted N asking what was taking him so long. He responded, “Walking out the door now.”
He came by with a bottle of Grey Goose. When he walked in the door, I got a luke-warm hug and a peck on the check, but that was to be expected. It just wasn’t what I was used to. I was also on to my third hefty glass of scotch. The Grey Goose wasn’t all he brought with him. He also brought some recreational supplies. I asked if he wanted to go out on the porch and smoke, but he wasn’t really feeling it. After some arm-twisting, he complied. I don’t know if it was the smoking or the spending time alone with me on the porch he was avoiding, but looking back I’m willing to bet it was the time alone with me.
When we came back in, I plopped down on the couch with another glass of scotch and the rest of the bottle of Johnnie. He sat in a chair rather far from me. L joined us as well after I extended an invitation. I was hoping her presence would help cut the tension.
The three of us sat and chatted while we drank. After some time, N’s roommate joined us. We talked about random things I can’t remember because the scotch began to kick in. At one point, N said something exceptionally person I never knew about him. It really pulled at my heartstrings. All I could think about was how much I wanted to give him a hug. I texted him and said, “You never told me about any of that.” He responded, “We never got that far, and I don’t like normally bringing it up unless it comes up in conversation.”
I asked him if he would come out on the balcony with me. His response: “I don’t mean to be rude, but why?” After that, I lost all the emotional sympathy I was feeling and received his message loud and clear. I said, “Forget it.” Of course, after that, he wanted to know what I wanted to talk about, but I told him to just forget it. We texted each other a few more times while we sat a few feet apart. I was now wasted. One of his texts even said, “You need more ice.”
Since it was getting late, N’s roommate and my roommate went to bed.
After that, everything is a blackout for me. The next thing I remember, I woke up alone and in a panic. It was the next morning, and I couldn’t remember N leaving my apartment that night. He wasn’t in my bed, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember how the night ended. I could hear L outside my door, so I shouted, “Did I do anything dumb last night!?” She told me we were still in the living room when she went to bed, so she had no idea.
I knew I needed to do some damage control. I didn’t know if I did anything inappropriate, but I knew at that point N was the only one who could tell me what happened. I texted him to ask what happened and preemptively apologize if I did anything wrong. I also explained that I had fun just hanging with him and our roommates and added, “Last thing I wanna do is make it uncomfortable…”
He responded, “We made out for a little bit. Then you tried bringing me in the bedroom but I couldn’t… That wouldn’t have been right for either of us.” I slapped myself in the forhead. Of course I did that. I responded, “Thank you for telling me this and thank you for being a gentleman.”
Surprisingly, he replied, “We both knew we wanted to but I couldn’t, especially with you as drunk as you were and I having sobered up.” I thanked him again for being a gentleman, and he countered, “No need to thank me… I’ll always be there for you.” It was a sweet notion. I had a lot of regret for putting us both in that position and was disappointed in myself for acting like a child.
Later that Friday, we talked on Gchat about the events of the night before. It was a very adult and civilized conversation. I was happy for that. We even spoke about what would have happened if I weren’t incapacitated by alcohol. While the conversation was nice, I knew for my own sake, I needed to put more distance between us, or I would never be able to get over him.
As the day progressed, N read my blog again. He read about NC commenting on my ability to do better and was not happy about it. I tried to calm him down, but there was already bad blood between the two. He decided to remove NC from his life and unfriended him on Facebook and blocked him on Gchat.
When 1:00 rolled around, I left work after a half day. I was headed to Belmar at the Jersey Shore with three friends and my sister for the weekend. I was very excited to get away and have some fun. I just got through the week from hell and needed some distractions. I would be free to do whatever and whomever I chose, and that made me very happy!
Follow @onegayatatimePride Parade
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 25, 2011
The next morning, N woke up to me staring him in the face. I don’t know what I was looking at, but I was definitely looking for answers. When he opened his eyes, his expression said it all. It was as if he woke up from a bad dream, only to find it was reality. He kept blinking and closing his eyes and then looking back into mine. I’m sure he saw the pain that was there. I could tell he wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.
Neither of us said anything for a few moments until I broke the silence. “Can we talk about what happened last night?” He nodded in agreement and sat up in the bed. I kind of ambushed him before he even had a chance to wake up, but what could I do? It was all I could think about, and I wanted answers.
We talked about why he was so secretive about dinner with his friends. He denied being secretive and said he was completely upfront with me. When I pointed out a few discrepancies in the story, he brushed them off as details lost in confusion of planning for ten people. Then I addressed him kissing the guy. He flat out denied it still. He told me he didn’t know the guy and it was a peck on the cheek in passing. The body language between the two from what I saw would say otherwise, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I said, even if it was just a peck in passing, why were you talking to him in the first place? Why did you both have your phones out? Was this a guy you met before I arrived at the bar. (The man he kissed was Asian, and sure enough, that Monday, an Asian man friended him and wrote on his Facebook wall. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.)
Here, he pled complete ignorance. He told me he had no idea who the guy was and couldn’t remember talking to him. He said he had a dream about talking to a bouncer about music and couldn’t remember what was reality and what was a dream since he was so drunk the night before. I knew this was bullsh*t. In my mind, I took a big step back. This was the ultimate betrayal of trust. We weren’t exclusive, but at this point, if he couldn’t be straight up with me, what did we have? Now, even more so, I felt like I was just a convenient booty call who lived across the street.
I explained how everything looks from my perspective. He stayed home the day before to primp his hair and his body, and donned sexy underwear to a gay club. What was he expecting to happen? He didn’t know I was going to meet up with him until he was already at dinner, so it wasn’t for me, and I pointed he never did that for me in the past. Was he opening the possibility of going home with another guy that night? He told me he shaved his body because he doesn’t like to take his shirt off with a hairy body and said the underwear was just a coincidence. He is a bad liar, so he stumbled over the underwear part. I had him figured out, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Even now, after time has passed, I get emotional writing this and thinking about his mindset. I was obviously more invested in the relationship, but I had no idea the extent. The first morning he woke up in my bed, we talked about how much fun we had the night before and how compatible we were. However, he jokingly added, “Just don’t fall in love with me.” I should have heeded those words, and it’s my fault for falling for someone who was not as emotionally available.
The NYC Pride Parade was back, and this year I was much more comfortable with my sexuality. Last year, I got trapped in the middle of the parade with my parents — my worst nightmare. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. This year, I made an effort to attend.
We all woke up late that morning and I felt sick, which threw a wrench in our plans to catch the tail end of the parade before Boston hopped back on a bus to Boston. We grabbed breakfast in Hoboken, and I became very ill, spending a fair amount of time in the restroom. I was only able to eat half my sandwich. I had a lot to drink the night before, so I chalked it up to a hangover.
Afterwards, we journeyed into the city. We walked around a bit, and then said goodbye to Boston.
N asked what I wanted to do and told me he wanted to grab drinks. He contacted some of his friends he knew were in the city. Finally, two coworkers responded, so we decided to grab drinks and lunch with them.
As we all entered the bar, older creepy men were checking N out. One of N’s coworkers pointed out we were both given the up downs. I was a little creeped out by it, but N thrived on the attention. That really turned me off. I was starting to see a side of N I had never seen before, and I didn’t like what I was seeing. At one point, I went to the bathroom. I knew I would be the topic of conversation while I was gone. When we were walking to dinner later, N pulled me aside and told me they asked if we were dating. I wanted to ask him what his response was, but I wasn’t feeling myself. No words came out. He then gave me a peck on the cheek. We were in Chelsea for Pride Weekend. This is the time he could be very affectionate and open, and the only sign of affection I received all day was a tiny peck on the cheek. The guy from the night before got more action than me.
As the day progressed, I became less and less attracted to N. The way he reacted to some of the more disturbing stories recounted at dinner really threw me for a loop. We ordered dinner, and of course, I couldn’t eat it. Between the alcohol and the emotional turmoil, I felt awful. At one point, one of N’s coworkers mouthed across the table, “Are you okay?” I told him I was just really tired from the night before.
When dinner ended, N wanted to continue drinking. It was Sunday night, and I was beat, as were his coworkers. Begrudgingly, he agreed to come back to Hoboken and back to my apartment. When we were one block from my apartment, N reached down and held my hand. It was a very romantic gesture, but too little too late. As we came in sight of his apartment, he released my hand. This romantic gesture lasted all of thirty seconds.
When we got back to my apartment, I decided it was time to tell him about my blog. It was his right to know, and I needed to know if it upset him before I continued. He was shocked to hear about it, but told me he didn’t care and wasn’t going to read it. So, to all my faithful readers, the show goes on. I also came clean about the extent of my relationship with the 40 year-old. I did this because I lied to him about the interaction, but was truthful in my blog. I wanted him to hear the truth from my mouth, not a computer screen. This upset him immensely, which I couldn’t understand. It all happened before I met him. However, he apparently had some background information about this man and was holding it against me. I tried to defend myself, but he didn’t want to hear it. It bothered me that he was so upset, but I couldn’t undo the past.
At that point, we started to watch porn. The computer was out, and I suppose we needed to break the tension. I never did this with Broadway, but I was open to the idea with N. However, he got overly excited by this. He started about how he’d love to be a porn star. Once again, I was losing the attraction to the man in front of me. This was not the guy I fell for. I still had no idea what happened to cause the switch, but something was very different with him.
All of a sudden, we were interrupted by the sound of fireworks. We completely forgot about them. We ran to the balcony to watch. In the middle of all the explosions, I burst out with, “So are we exclusive?”
The next few moments were a blur, but I do know the gist of answer was no. I could understand if we weren’t exclusive up to that point, but I couldn’t fathom not being exclusive going forward.
When he explained his lack of interest in a monogamous relationship, I asked him if he has been sleeping with any other men since he met me. He told me of one guy he hooked up with after our third or fourth date. They exchanged blowjobs, but when this other man told him he was kind of in a relationship, N decided it better to be just friends. (This is also one of the guys he and I were possibly going to meet up with earlier that day.)
I couldn’t understand his rational. If he didn’t want to be “the other man,” why was he willing to seek out another man himself. What we had was pretty great, but he was leaving the door open for himself. If something better came along, he would upgrade. When I expressed this to him, he asked, “Upgrade to what?” I immediately responded, “A better situation.” It was so simple to me, how could he not understand that? I felt so used! He explained he wasn’t seeking out other men, but that didn’t make it any better. I already couldn’t trust him, and I had a pretty strong feeling he was lying.
I felt awful. Like someone stabbed me with a knife. Before the conversation, I knew what his answer was going to be, but hearing him say no broke my heart all over again. I was a shell of a human being.
After we finished talking, we went inside and had sex, and I finally got to have my way with him — All the way this time, not just the tip. It was pretty good too, but ended quickly due to N’s lack of experience.
In my mind, things were beginning to end between us. It’s almost as if that night was our breakup sex. I was pleased to know I got it in at least once before we broke up. I don’t know why, but it felt fulfilling. That’s how I knew it was over. I lost the emotional connection to the man who days earlier I was falling in love with.
Follow @onegayatatimeYour Cheating Heart
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 22, 2011
Saturday, I woke up fairly later in the morning. N was still sleeping in my bed, and Boston was still sleeping on the couch when I started to make breakfast. I fried up some frozen homemade sausage patties and eggs. In the meantime, my two favorite men woke up and joined me in the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee, and we sat and ate. Boston and I planned to go into the city for the day. He hadn’t been to the city in ten years. He is in music school and asked to check out the original Steinway store to play on some of their finest pianos. We invited N to join, but his plans included shaving his back and getting a haircut.
When breakfast ended, N and I went into my room and fooled around. I was horny since we didn’t do anything the night before and hungry for real sex. But, N wasn’t 100% cooperative. “I feel bad that Boston is out there alone right now. Ya know, we could let him watch,” he said with a wink and a smile. I just laughed it off and continued with my heavy petting. (I did feel bad for Boston because he got out of the shower and all his clean clothes were in my bedroom.) When I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen, we stopped. N went home to get ready for his day of primping, and I showered to get ready for the city. (I would later come to find N accusing me of hooking up with Boston at this point)
When Boston and I arrived in the city, we came upon a street fair. We walked around and got lunch. Following, I showed him some of the major attractions. It was really nice just relaxing with Boston and walking around the city. He started to feel like a little brother. Finally we arrived at the Steinway and Son’s a half hour before they were about to close for a recital. Boston sat at a few of the pianos and blew me away with his talent. I told him if he ever wanted to impress a guy, he should take him to a piano store and it would be in the bag.
We also stopped into to Saks to visit one of Boston’s old friends. We said hi, and he invited us to a house party and a drag show at a bar on the lower east side, Drom.
On the walk back to Port Authority, we passed a few of the pianos sprinkled around the city. I made Boston sit and play after The Naked Cowboy finished tinkering in Times Square. He ended up being filmed by the man in charge of documenting the project. Overall, I’d say it was a good day for Boston.
When we got back to Hoboken, we got dressed to go out and went to my friend K’s for a bbq. We were skipping the house party, but were going to meet them at Drom.
Likewise, N had plans for the night. Originally, he told me he was going out to dinner with friends and they didn’t know if they were staying in the city or coming back to Hoboken. To me, this meant straight friends. I figured i received no details because he wasn’t out to his- fellow diners. I was wrong. As the day went on, I received more details. He was going to dinner with eight gay men, and then it evolved into them going to Industry, a gay bar.
I asked him if it was an issue if we met up at Industry until Boston’s friends went to the lower east side. He told me to come. When Industry had a long line, they decided to go to Ritz, not my favorite bar. Boston and I finished at the bbq and headed to Ritz. On the walk there from Port Authority, I expressed my concerns about N and the night. I told him how shady it felt since he was being somewhat secretive. When we arrived, N’s phone was dying. I tried calling and texting to no avail. We went into the first floor and couldn’t find him anywhere. We tried upstairs to no avail as well. Finally, he texted me back. He was outside to smoking and trying to find us.
When he finally came back in, he was a drunk sweaty mess. I was way too sober to be there. I get very uncomfortable in gay bars for some reason. So, I ordered four straight vodka shots, two of which were for myself. He began to grind his ass in my crotch, and I liked it! This was the first time we could dance together and not create a total scene. A good portion of the night from then on is a blur for me. I got very drunk so I could tolerate the heat and the club and have blacked out a few bits.
When Boston got a text from his friends, we decided to leave. N told me he was coming with us. I was very pleasantly surprised. Boston and I went outside while N said goodbye to his fiends. When ten minutes passed, and he didn’t come out, I went back into the bar. As I was walking up the stairs, I noticed him talking to someone. Men were passing between us going up and down the stairs, but just then I saw him lean in and kiss this man. My heart shattered into a million pieces. In that millisecond, I felt my world crumbling around me. I know it was just one little kiss, but the fact that he was talking to another man, exchanging numbers and kissing broke my heart. I was crushed.
I didn’t know what to do other than run. I turned and sped down the stairs. He must have seen me at that instant because he chased after me. He tried to spin me around by grabbing my shoulder, but I flung my arms into the air and shouted, “Don’t touch me!” All that went through my head at that point was how many other guys were you grinding on and kissing before I arrived at the bar? We never had the exclusive conversation, but at that point, he was sleeping in my bed almost every night. We were in a relationship, even if it wasn’t defined.
He tried to calm me down on the street, but I was making a scene. I didn’t know what to do. When I get heated I get loud. He asked me to have a conversation and stop shouting, but I couldn’t be calm. I couldn’t be rational. I was enraged. Somehow, he managed to calm me down and convince me it was just a peck on the cheek in passing. Out of my inebriation, I let it go, and we went to the next bar. I felt awful. Boston was standing across the street witnessing this whole scene uncomfortably waiting for us to meet up with his friends at Drom.
In the cab ride, I decided I would pretend it didn’t happen for the night. Boston was only in town until the morning. I would deal with the situation later. I needed to entertain my good friend.
Boston lost his ID the night before, so when we attempted to enter the bar, the bouncer was not cooperative. Finally, when I shoved $40 into his hand, he let us in. After we each paid the $12 cover (on to of the $40), we came to realize Boston’s friends already left. The scene was dead. When I realized there was no chance in hell I was going to have fun the rest of the night, we grabbed a few drinks, and I volunteered to go on the hunt to find Boston a man to have fun with. We asked him what his type was. He explained. Then, N asked him if he was a top or a bottom. (This really had no relevance to the situation, and I think N took advantage to satiate his own curiosity.) When Boston was reluctant to elaborate, N said, “I’m a total top, but I love it when he puts his dick in my ass.” This was news to me. Especially since it never really fully made it there. It was just confirmation he was pumping Boston for information because he had a crush on him.
At one point, N and Boston walked to the bar to get drinks while I went to the restroom. Days later, Boston recounted for me the following exchange: N firmly gripped Boston’s ass and said, “How do you get an ass like that? So tight and firm. I’d really like to put my dick in there.” Had I known this happened that night, I would have left the bar with Boston and that would have been the end of it.
When we were all thoroughly exhausted and bored, we hopped in a cab back to Hoboken. No sooner we were in the door, and N was passed out face down on my bed in his underwear. This raised a whole new red flag in my brain. He was donning the sexiest underwear I’d ever seen him wear. His back was freshly shaved, his chest was cleanly shaved and he had a new haircut. All those are fine, but who was he expecting to see his underwear at a gay club. He spent the entire day getting ready for this night out. He never spent that much time primping to see me. Everything was starting to add up. From the business trip I took on, N was quickly distancing himself and seeking relationship freedom.
I went back out to the kitchen to chat with Boston. He immediately said, “OK! What happened!? What did you see!?” I explained to him the kiss, and in typical fashion, he dealt me the truth. He explained how N manipulated me that night as he watched from across the street. He told me to trust what I saw and trust my own instincts. We talked for at least another hour after that.
N’s phone was sitting there the whole time as well. I picked it up and was about to look through his Grindr messages because I wanted to find the closure I needed to tell him it was over. I couldn’t trust him anymore, but if I had proof, I would be able to get over it myself. Boston convinced me how bad that idea was. I put the phone down without pushing a button. To this day, I still regret not looking. It’s completely out of character for me to not trust someone and read their phone, but it would have delivered me the closure I needed.
At that point, I was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. That night I was delivered a heavy blow to the gut and needed to sleep to forget about it even for one instant. Boston went to the couch, and I begrudgingly went to share my bed with the man I had seen kissing another man. I laid down with my back to him and tears streaming down my face. I was crushed by what happened. I had no idea what to do. I still had very strong feelings for him, but couldn’t turn a blind eye. It isn’t who i am. I’m no one’s fallback or second best. However, I did know it was certainly not going to be a fun morning for him either…
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Boston in the House
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 21, 2011
The next day, I did my best to forget the Grindr guy quickly. He was just a body I used, and the guilt I felt for using another human being like that was more than I could take. I disgusted myself. Not to mention what I did to N. I betrayed his trust. Something that is devastating to me, because if I’m nothing, I’m honest. I did exactly what I thought he did, and it didn’t make it any better. Just worse.
Much to my pleasure, Boston was visiting for the weekend. We planned it weeks prior and the day finally arrived. It just so happened we picked Pride Weekend in NYC for his visit. Perfect timing.
I left work at 2:00 to pick Boston up from Port Authority. However, his bus didn’t arrive for another two hours. I sat across the street at Schnipper’s Quality Kitchen reading the gay edition of the Village Voice. I found a lot of interesting articles to entertain myself while I waited. Especially the “Why I Hate Being Gay!” article. Once he arrived, we grabbed a quick lunch and hopped back on a bus to Hoboken.
That night, I planned an elaborate seafood dinner to welcome Boston and invited many of my friends, some of which he previously met in Miami. They too were excited to see him again. He’s just a good guy you always want to be around.
After he dropped his bags and got settled, Boston and I walked to the grocery store to get the few ingredients I needed to make the meal that night. I was going all out, with every kind of seafood I could think of. The night before I went to the store and bought so much seafood, the guy gave me a bunch of free things because I “just made his night” buying so much. He is a very nice older gentleman who I believe plays for my team. Boston was a really good friend who was always there for me when I needed an ear to talk off. I was going to treat him like a king while he visited.
When we got back, we talked while I prepared the meal. People slowly started trickling in, and everyone pitched in to help. We were all having fun, and Boston was getting to know a few of my friends. One friend was absent, however. N was nowhere to be found. He knew that I was making this meal. I had been talking about it the entire week leading up to Boston’s visit. Where the hell was he?
Finally, I got ahold of him via text, and he told me he was still at the gym and would be missing dinner. He was going to come by later after he showered. I was a little disappointed in him. I wanted him to be there, and he knew it. We were already on shaky ground with everything that was happening, and this was just one more thing to fan the flames. I told him I would save him some if he was lucky. He said, “I’ll just grab something now, and snack on it after the bar later tonight.” That got me even more annoyed. I felt like I was being treated like a short order cook.
While we ate, the wine was flowing, and following dinner, the spirits were too. Everyone was pregaming before we went off to the bar. Finally, N arrived. We already decided on a bar. My favorite bar, McSwiggans. I’m treated like royalty there. I know every bartender, bounce, and manager, and they take GOOD care of me. Once we were all properly lubricated, we journeyed to the bar.
It was a good scene. Lots of people dancing and having fun, and because I’m well connected there, we didn’t have to wait in line. Some of my friends who were unable to make it to dinner were meeting us at the bar. One of my old roommates was already there with his friend having a blast. I introduced Boston to more of my friends, and we all had a blast.
N and I were particularly flirtatious that night. We had been to this bar together, but it is definitely a straight bar. We normally let our guard down there because we feel comfortable, but that night we were probably obvious. We did everything but kiss right in the middle of the crowd. I was having a good time with him. All the problems drifted away. I was also happy to have Boston finally come visit, and he was having a good time too.
Apparently, N forgot I told him Boston is gay. He began to tell me how perfect a match he would be for his roommate until I reminded him. Then, I think he started to crush on him a little, as well as my old roommate. He kept on talking about how attractive they both are and how perfect my old roommate would be for his roommate as well. He was “just her type.” I tried to brush off the fact that he was telling me how he was attracted to my friends. It was off-putting, but I assumed it was innocent.
After some time, the three gay amigos started to bond. There was a very attractive guy who I had often seen at McSwiggans. We always made eye contact, but never spoke and never exchanged anything of substance. I always wondered which team he played for, and I expressed this to the two other gay men I was with. I felt bad for pointing this guy out in front of N, but he talked about the guys in the gym on a regular basis, so I didn’t feel that terrible. We all have terrible gaydar, but I thought our forces combined would be able to work it out. We couldn’t come to agreement, so we sent in the troops. Boston volunteered to walk past him on his way to the bathroom and cup his ass with his hand while he did. We would hypothesize his sexuality based on his reaction.
When Boston returned from the restrooms, he informed us how much of this guys ass he grasped. “I got a serious handful and a long feel. He didn’t budge an inch. I can’t decide what that means!” So, it would still remain a mystery.
The rest of the night was spent drinking a lot more and dancing our asses off. We had a blast. When the closing bell rang, Boston, N and myself walked back to my apartment. We hung out on the balcony for a while until I fell asleep on N’s shoulder. At that point, he tried to carry me to bed, but only woke me up. I walked to my bed while they walked to get slices of pizza. I immediately passed out again as soon as I hit the sheets. I only know N spent the night because he was in my bed the next morning…
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 14, 2011
The day after my spectacular night and romantic dinner date with N, I was heading home to Pennsylvania for my cousin’s graduation party. It was father’s day weekend, and I hadn’t been home in a month or so, so my sister and I visited until Saturday evening.
Days before I left, N came over and had a serious conversation with me. He told me his roommate was having a birthday party and wanted to invite my friends and I, but this was something we needed to discuss. I could see how uncomfortable he was, but I could also see he really wanted me to come. He said so. But, since he wasn’t out to his roommates yet, he didn’t know how to handle having me there. Who would I be? Why was I there? How did I know Amanda? All questions that would have to be answered.
I looked him in the eye and cut him off at the pass. I said, “Hey. We don’t have to do this. I know you want me there, but if this makes you uncomfortable I get it. And, I’m sure Amanda will understand too. I was in the same position you are in a year ago. I know what you’re feeling. And, trust me. I will not put any pressure on you whatsoever. You have to do this on your own timeline when you feel comfortable. If that means me not coming to one party, I’m ok with that.” Immediately his eyes lit up. I could see how relieved he was. I told him to think about what he wants and let me know when he decided.
So, on my way back to Hoboken from PA, I was texting N to find out his decision. However, I wasn’t really getting a response. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a bad idea, and I shouldn’t go. Even if he told me he wanted me to come, I was probably going to tell him no for his benefit. He made the decision very easy when he didn’t respond. I decided to make other plans with other friends in town.
A friend of mine met a guy at the gym and found out he was gay. I’ve been waiting for this to happen. His immediate response to him was to send him my way. I had my first gay set-up. He told him I was gay and directed him to this blog. So, I hit him up to see if he wanted to join us at the bar. He obliged. This wasn’t to make N jealous or anything. I had a man. I didn’t need another. This guy seemed very nice, and I thought it polite to meet him and maybe make a new friend.
As I was about to walk out the door to go to the bar at 10:00 p.m., I received a text from N saying, “Ok. You can come over, but remember. Be discrete and we’re just friends.” I told him of my other plans and said maybe I would see him later that night.
I met the guy from the gym at the bar with my friends and we sat on the rooftop and chatted. I introduced him to everyone, and he began to tell me his story. He was in a 9 year relationship that didn’t make it for all the wrong reasons. My heart was breaking when he told me his story. I wanted to give him a big hug right there. He seemed a little broken, but I could tell it was helping him to tell his story. I told him about my ex-“boyfriend,” as well as N and how things were going between us.
Then, late in the night, N texted me telling me he was coming to the bar I was at with the birthday party. When he arrived, he came running over, very drunk, and kissed me on the forehead. I introduced him to the guy from the gym. We didn’t hang out much at the bar, mainly because he was there with a bunch of his friends who didn’t know he was gay. I was okay with it. Again, on his terms. On his schedule. No pressure.
At one point, N realized he lost his phone and was panicked to find it. He tried calling his phone and the cab company he used to get to the bar. He wanted to go home to check if he lost it there. I told him I was ready to leave, and we could go back to our apartments so he could find it. But, only after we got pizza. He agreed. We grabbed a few slices and hopped in a cab back to our apts. The cab dropped him off and he ran in, yelling back, “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
I took his slices, my friend’s and mine, and we went into my apartment. Quite some time passed, and I realized N wasn’t coming over. I chalked it up to one of those nights, got my friend settled on the couch, and went to bed. Alone.
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 7, 2011
That Friday night, N went to his friend’s birthday party at a bar in Hoboken. I was pretty beat, so I decided to stay in for the night. I had 2 Netflix waiting to be watched.
At this point, N is only out to 3 women in his life. His mother, his roommate and a friend in Florida. He was going to the party with many of his college friends, none of which knew of his penchant for men. Earlier that day, we discussed our plans for the night, and N mentioned I could pop by the party unannounced. He wanted to see me, but no one knew about us, so we’d have to be discreet and “just friends.” They were going to a bar that I have frequented a lot. I could have easily gathered a few people and gone, but I knew better.
First off, I had no desire to go out. Secondly, I knew he wasn’t really ready for that step yet, even though he was half extending the invitation. We would be trying to hide it so much it would be obvious. Instead, I stayed in, receiving picture messages of him in the mirror of the bathroom.
I made dinner and plopped down on the couch in a pair of gym shorts; a perfect night if you ask me. One of the movies I had from Netflix was Amistad. I had never seen it and remembered it getting a lot of hype when it came out. Half way through it, I realized it was not a movie for a Friday night. I had no idea it was so heavy. It was almost as bad as watching Schindler’s List.
Late that night, around 1:00 in the morning, I got a call from N. He told me he had someone who wanted to meet me, and asked if he could bring her over. I assumed it was his roommate. He had spoken about her many times and told me how badly she wanted to meet me. When I finally buzzed them in, much to my surprise, it was not his roommate at all.
N was very drunk. He had a stain down the front of his shirt and was slurring his words. He introduced me to his friend and went on to tell me he told her he is gay that night at the bar. Apparently she didn’t take it very well, but was consoled by his roommate who also knew. But after that, she was dying to meet me.
This gave me warm fuzzies. He was so excited about us, he couldn’t wait to tell someone and was now bringing her home to show me off. It was a big night for him. He took a big step forward as a gay man, but we also took a step forward as a couple.
Shortly thereafter, his friend left so we could do our thing and go to bed. N was so drunk, he slid down the back of one of my living room chairs and broke the leg off. I picked him up and we moved to the couch to snuggle. It was nice having him there that night. I was very happy to see him. We watched TV for a short period before he fell asleep on me. I tried to wake him, but no matter what I did, he just lay there. I even gently slapped him across the face, but no movement, just grumbles. He is too big of a man to when he’s dead weight to carry, so there was nothing I could do besides leave him sleeping on the couch. I managed to lift his legs up onto the couch so he would be comfortable, and I went to bed.
In the morning, I woke and came out to the living room to find him still sleeping. I began to make breakfast, and shortly after he woke up. He told me at one point he woke up on the floor pinned between the couch and the coffee table. I told him that’s what he gets for not coming to bed with me.
We sat and ate breakfast and rehashed the night before. He didn’t remember a lot of the things I told him, so it made for an interesting conversation.
I was really starting to enjoy this new groove we were getting into. When I was with Broadway, I barely saw him. It was usually only to sleep together. With N, I was really starting to build a relationship with a strong foundation.
Follow @onegayatatimeAt the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
One Gay at a Time 