Posts Tagged elevator
The Move
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 19, 2012
Nothing really puts stress on a relationship quite like a move. One year had gone by for CK in The Big Apple. He moved to the city in a hurry, finding a nice apartment in a convenient neighborhood, but because of the rush, he ended up paying more than one would like living in New York City. There are plenty of things to see and do in the city that never sleeps, so spending all your money on rent is no fun!
He decided when his lease was up, it was time to find new living quarters. This was quite stressful, not only for him, but also for me. Selfishly, he lived two avenues and a few blocks from my office. I could easily walk there, and commuting to his place from mine in Hoboken was a snap. Chances are, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
When he told me he started looking on the Lower East Side, I was nonplussed. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hike to get to his place every time I came to see him. The Lower East Side is only convenient to get to from one place — The Lower East Side. But, in the end, this wasn’t my decision. I was there to be supportive while he went through the stress of trying to find a new place.
When the search expanded out to include Brooklyn, I nearly had a panic attack. Screw hike — Brooklyn was going to be a day’s journey to get to from Hoboken. I was petrified for our relationship. I wasn’t sure at the time if our relationship could survive the stress on a day-to-day basis.
Finally, after his mother flew to NYC to help him pack and find a new apartment, he landed in a sweet spot. I was thrilled with the final outcome. He managed to find a room in an apartment in a managed building in Hell’s Kitchen with two roommates. I had experience in Hell’s Kitchen. Broadway lived in Hell’s Kitchen, and I was able to walk to work from his apartment. It was also very convenient for me because Port Authority wasn’t far from his apartment, so I could use the bus system. It was the quickest way to travel when heading to or from that part of town. I felt very comfortable in HK as well. I’d taken more than a handful of dates to that neighborhood. The gay population was large enough that no one looked twice at two men holding hands or sharing a kiss.
When the time came to move, I wanted to run and hide. I’d dealt with CK’s attention span before, but nothing of this caliber. I thought it nearly impossible to keep him on task so this move would go as smoothly as possible. Even with the help of his mother, there was still a lot of work to be done. CK isn’t the best planner in the world either. While the idea of booking moving men a few weeks in advance or gathering boxes crossed his mind, the action and follow-through never occurred.
I was trying to be patient. He was going through a lot. I was going to help him, not out of obligation, but out of love. He needed me, and I was going to be there for him, however, it was going to take a lot of strength and biting my tongue to get through this.
I agreed to help him pack things up Thursday after work. I had limited time, however, because I had a volleyball game that evening. I left work as soon as I could and arrived with flat boxes for him from my mail department. We made a lot of progress, but it certainly wasn’t without a lot of comments. I do have to say, it went a lot better than I expected. It certainly could have been a lot worse. Luckily I had a built-in time limit, and the time came for me to head back to Jersey.
We both took the following day off from work. After many failed attempts to get a truck, borrow someone’s car, book movers, we decided to try to rent a Zipcar. This of course wasn’t going to work because there is an application period. Although we were able to walk over to one of their offices in New York City, we had to wait for him to be approved to rent a car. We wasted most of the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what to do and lying around. After growing incredibly frustrated with the poor use of our time, I decided to stop worrying. I tried to keep my frustration to myself. While I was going to be there to offer my support, in the end this wasn’t going to be my problem. If he drug his feet long enough, this was either going to become his huge hassle or it would increase his financial burden.
There were rides in the back of a van with boxes and potholes. There were things packed at the bottom of a box only to be torn open again. There were enough dust bunnies to start a farm. The list goes on…
Of course, there were copious amounts of arguing. We rarely agreed on anything, but we did both make an effort not to rile the other up. When we finally got all his things in a rented U-Haul van, we had to wait outside in the cold/drizzle until his roommate came downstairs to let us into the elevator bank. His roommate still hadn’t given him the key, so we had yet one more person to rely on to be responsible.
After a little blood, a lot of sweat and almost some tears, we managed to get everything into his apartment. Beyond that, we managed to get all of his belongings into his bedroom. The only thing that saved us was the fact that he didn’t have a bed yet. He left his old bed behind in the previous apartment and hadn’t ordered a new one yet. Of course, it would take some time before things got unpacked. The lack of bed also meant we had to head back to Hoboken every night so we had somewhere to sleep.
It was a very stressful weekend, but in the end, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, it could have gone smoother, but in the end, everything worked out. I was happy to help my man, and I know he truly appreciated my help. And the fact that we survived something as stressful as this told me we could survive just about anything.
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 11, 2012
Another Monday. Another day at work. My staycation was officially over. Another day periodically checking Grindr.
I spent my vacation getting myself back. The only problem was I only repaired the physical me, not the mental and emotional me. I wasn’t on Grindr all day long, but I would periodically check it to see if anyone had messaged me. I was simply a Grindr fish. No longer would I be a fisherman.
I had a dermatologist appointment in the middle of the day. While walking to my appointment, I fired up Grindr. I was curious to see if anyone was scoping me out. I was also in a new neighborhood. I was hoping to find something new and unexpected. In the short window it took me to walk about twenty blocks, I’d managed to strike up a conversation with three different guys. All seemed to be quite level-headed. I told them all I was looking for dates, and all of them seemed excited at the prospect. It was difficult trying to keep three conversations going at the same time. I told them I was walking into my appointment and asked each of them for their phone numbers. I managed to pick up a lawyer, an actor and someone who worked for a magazine rating cruise ships. I asked each of them for their pictures to add to my roster and went to see my doctor about lightening up a scar.
When my appointment was over, I thought I’d make my walk seem shorter by checking messages on Grindr once again. A guy near my office was on and started messaging me. He seemed pretty hot and well fit. He was staying at a hotel near me and was anxious to give head. I told myself not to even continue the conversation, but once again, I found myself thinking with the wrong head. I entertained the idea and asked him what he was proposing specifically. He told me he had to catch a flight in a short while, but wanted some fun before leaving New York. I immediately knew which hotel he was staying at and his occupation. “You’re a flight attendant staying at the Radisson, aren’t you?” I asked. “Yea. How did you know?” he replied. “Not the first one I’ve talked to at that hotel. You guys love that hotel, and you guys love Grindr. So what exactly are you looking for?” I texted.
He asked me to come to his room. He would leave the door ajar. I would walk in, he would tear off my pants and just begin orally pleasuring me. I wouldn’t have to touch him or do anything to him. He just really wanted to blow someone. I knew better, but I still bit anyway. I figured, “What’s the harm?” Work had no idea how long my appointment would last, and it was a slow day at the office. I decided to take a detour, but I basically had to run to his apartment. Thank God I have long legs to get me there. He was anxious because his checkout was very soon.
He was very worried about STDs and HIV. I assured him I was clean. I also asked if I would be allowed to play with his manhood if I chose to. He enthusiastically said yes.
I arrived at his hotel in time for an afternoon tryst. I hopped in the elevator and made my way to his room. I’d been here before. This wasn’t my first b.j. from a flight attendant at the Radisson. I really needed to stop making that a habit, but at the time, I was excited to get off in the middle of the afternoon. I arrived at his room, and the door was left ajar.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I walked in and said hi. He immediately began lifting my shirt and sucking on my nipples. I lifted my shirt off, and he undid my pants. Just then, he turned to me and asked, “You’re really clean right?” I assured him I was. “You can never been too sure,” he added.
He began pleasuring me. After a few minutes, I made my way to the bed and laid back. I wanted to fully enjoy him. It wasn’t too long before he worked his magic, and I was able to conjure up exciting mental images. I shot in his mouth and all over his face and chest. He spit on my chest and began working on himself. Seconds later, he shot all over my leg. “Let me grab you a towel,” he said immediately. I wasn’t moving. I was quite anxious to get both of “us” off me.
I cleaned up and began to exchange small-talk with him. He was Austrian and was headed home that evening shortly after I would be departing his room. I needed to get back to the office, and he needed to finish getting ready for work. He told me how much he enjoyed himself, and with that, I made my way out the door.
Shamelessly, I had a smile from ear to ear. I was still high from the endorphins. It felt amazing. I was ashamed and proud in the same moment. I still knew I was broken inside and needed to stop having these trysts with strangers, but I was also enjoying my sexual liberation. Somewhere, there had to be a happy medium. It was up to me to find it…
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 8, 2012
SPRING! The first day of Spring finally arrived. We didn’t have a very rough winter, but I was certainly ready for spring. I had no work obligation, so I rang in the new season from the comfort of my bed watching TV.
About 1:00 am, I got a booty call. There was a guy I had been in touch with for over a year and never met. He was a very sexy Hispanic man who it seems swam in the same circle as me. This wasn’t just any random booty call, however. He was over at a friend’s place, and they were looking to have some fun.
They didn’t want to have a threesome in the sense I’d recently been in. They were more looking to watch porn and jerk together with some light fun. Things got particularly uncomfortable when he asked if I party. I am NOT into drugs mixed with sex. It’s not my thing. I was pretty clear about this. I don’t feel comfortable around it at all. I told them if partying was in, I was out. They were fine with that. They didn’t think I was coming, but in the end I agreed to come by.
I quietly snuck out of my apartment and hopped on the motorcycle. I made my way in the chill of the night over to Jersey City where his friend lived. When I got there, I couldn’t figure out where to enter the building. I finally found it when the Hispanic guy came down to meet me. I finally got to meet him in person. He was hot and was an impressive presence. He was well-built and very tall. I shook his hand and rode the elevator up with him.
When we entered the apartment, I was greeted by a gorgeous dog. It was the Hispanic guy’s dog, and he put him in the bedroom so he wouldn’t be a bother. It was a gorgeous apartment. The owner was sprawled on the couch in front of the porn playing on the big screen TV. I was introduced and removed my jacket. I was encouraged to make myself comfortable. All three of us began to strip. I wasn’t attracted to the owner of the apartment at all. He wasn’t attractive, and he had a very distant look in his eyes. He kinda creeped me out. I had my suspicions he had already partied. He had a beer in his hand, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the culprit.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. The three of us laid on the couch watching porn together exciting ourselves. Then the kissing began. I started kissing the hot one while the ugly one started kissing all over my body and began orally pleasuring me. He was constantly going deeper to the point of making himself violently gag. I was petrified he was going to vomit in my lap. I tried to concentrate on the hot one. He was very normal and enjoying himself.
The ugly guy was almost like a dog on me. He kept climbing on me, and I really wanted him to go away. The Hispanic guy kept making comments about him and to him. He, however, wasn’t speaking at all, only grunting. “She’s a big old bottom,” the Hispanic said. I fully understood that by him nudging his hairy a$$ toward me constantly, but I was not interested. He wanted me to penetrate him, but I was not going anywhere near that, even with a condom on. I was cordial to him, but I never purposely engaged him in any way. He kept getting in the way of me enjoying time with the hot one, whimpering by my face waiting to suck on my mouth.
A few times I contemplated leaving. I never did anything I wasn’t comfortable with, but I wasn’t really enjoying myself. Periodically, the porn would freeze to buffer, and the “dog” would have to fix it. It was a nice reprieve from him being all over me.
After some time, the hot one decided it was time for him to head home. He needed to get the real dog back and settle in for the night. If he wasn’t staying, neither was I. I stood and told them I was heading out as well. I started to get dressed. The ugly dog on the couch was confused by all this and still in a haze. The Hispanic guy asked if the other guy could give him a ride home. After some confusion, he agreed. I was very happy I wasn’t in that car. I wasn’t sure he’d be ok to drive. I waited for the other two to finish getting ready and dressed to head out.
The Hispanic with the dog told us he needed to go downstairs to let the dog relieve itself. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being left in the apartment with just him. I stood by the door, and the other guy got ready quickly. We ended up all riding down in the elevator together. When we got downstairs, we all said goodbye. I hopped back on the motorcycle, sped home and hopped in the shower.
When I got back to my apartment, I got a text from the Hispanic guy. “Sorry. I think my friend was into you. I felt kinda out-of-place. LOL.” I responded back after I got out of the shower, “Hey dude. Great body. Seem fun. No offense, but your friend isn’t really my speed. Sorry. Not sure if you had fun with me, but feel free to hit me up sometime.” That’s when I got the full story between the two of them: “Him and I hooked up when we first met and no more after that. Sorry if I came off rude. I had fun with you. Definitely. But, he was trying to have you for himself. I got the hint. He’s my bud, so I was trying not to f*ck it up. I wasn’t sure if you were into him or not. You were kissing each other. Plus I had my pup with me.” I explained to him the confusion: “I was more just letting him play. Didn’t want anyone to feel left out. LOL. I was trying to get more of you ;)” He told me, “I would chill again whenever.” I quickly responded, “Cool dude. You have my number. Anytime. Trying to go on a Grindr diet… Obviously failed tonight.” He finally added, “It’s cool. Had fun. Finish some other time. ;)” With that, I hopped into bed.
I finished myself off and passed out. I didn’t set an alarm since I had nothing to wake up for early in the morning. This post should have been titled I have no willpower. Hopefully the next day I would be able to stick to my new diet.
Follow @onegayatatimeThe Horror!
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 28, 2012
Touchdown! After a long flight of writing a lot of blog entries, I finally landed in San Francisco. I was very happy to be away from New York. This was forced time to clear my head. It would be impossible to try to find a guy for a date from thousands of miles away, and I needed a break. Don’t get me wrong, I want a man to call my own, but the process of finding one is exhausting.
I rode to my hotel with a very chatty driver. He had lots of questions and comments for me. Many of the comments referred to women and our “shared” desire for them. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was gay. I just let him continue talking. It wasn’t that long of a ride.
I got to my hotel, and took my good ol’ time getting to the office. They didn’t know exactly what time I landed, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have any work for me yet anyway.
I was right. When I arrived at the office, they had no work for me the entire afternoon. This worked out quite well. It allowed me to update the blog and go for a nice long delicious lunch I didn’t have to pay for. When the workday was coming to a close, I made my way back to my hotel.
I’d been on Grindr all day hunting for a guy to either meet for a drink or have some fun with. Nothing was turning up. I recalled the last time I was out there. Originally, I had the same luck. That is, until I picked up signal from San Francisco. No such luck that day.
I thought about the other weapon in my arsenal. I could pull up adam4adam.com and see who was in the area. I managed to find a few sexy men to message. It was only a matter of time before one of them messaged me back. A few did, but many of them were flakes. A few of them were unattractive as soon as I saw their faces as well. I asked a few to hang out, and the ones only interested in sex, I proposed coming to my hotel. Some of the guys on Grindr offered bl*wjobs, but I was looking to get it in.
One guy was very willing to make the journey to my hotel, and he was a bottom and looked pretty sexy. I told him to come by and gave him the details. I had one failsafe. They would not be able to come up to my room without me picking them up from the lobby. If I was unsatisfied with what showed up, I could hop back in the elevator and shut the door. That’s terrible, I know, but you never know what will show up when push comes to shove.
I was doing it again. I ended a relationship and simply fell back into old habits of hooking up outside of a relationship. I wasn’t thrilled with myself, but I was giving myself a free pass while in San Francisco.
I would have to put off dinner until after my evening tryst arrived. I was hungry, but I wouldn’t have time to get dinner before he came by. When he arrived, I collected the man from the lobby. He was a good-looking Aussie.
We got up to my room and talked about where we were from and our stories. He sat on the bed and talked with me. He seemed like a pretty cool guy. He was a bit of a vagabond. I liked his traveling experience. I was envious of it.
When the moment was right, we both went in for a kiss. This was followed by LOTS of kissing. Lots! He seemed quite nervous. I was trying to get him to relax a bit. I took my time with him gently feeling his body. He was a good kisser. This was a good sign.
Slowly I began peeling off some of the many layers he was wearing until we were both naked. He had a decent body. He was skinny, but not exactly muscular and defined. The kissing became more passionate and the petting grew heavier. When we were pretty far along, I whispered in his ear, “I want to be inside you.” He responded the same sentiment, so I reached for the condom and lube I had in the nightstand drawer.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Now I know I say this in a lot of posts, but this time, it may be too graphic for even those who are normally turned on by my warnings. Just be forewarned. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so!
I inserted myself inside him. He felt great. He seemed to really be enjoying himself as well. We were about two minutes in when something didn’t feel quite right. I took a whiff of the air, and immediately knew what was wrong. I looked down in horror, and it was all I could do to keep myself from vomiting all over this man.
I immediately pulled out and hustled to the bathroom. We both knew what was wrong. I tossed the condom in the trash and began scrubbing myself. I casually suggested a shower. I was trying to maintain my composure so this man wouldn’t feel worse than he already did. This was horrific, but I still had the man’s ego in the back of my mind.
He suggested I go first. I’m not sure why. All I could think about was his uncomfortable state while I showered. He made his way to the toilet and took care of himself while I washed up in the shower. When I finished, I left the bathroom so he could do whatever he needed to do.
I was still a little shaky and trying not to think about what just happened. I’d encountered this before, but never to this extent.
When he emerged from the bathroom, you could have knocked me over with a feather. He actually suggested we keep going. I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. At this point, I no longer had the man’s feelings in mind but only my own sanity. I told him, “No. I think I’m done for the night.” He didn’t stop apologizing. “Don’t worry about it. It happens. Part of the territory,” I reassured him while he got dressed.
And then, when I didn’t think this man could surprise me any more than he already did, he suggested we grab food since he hadn’t eaten anything yet either. “No. I think I’m just going to order room service or something but thanks,” I added.
Just as he was walking out the door, my phone rang. It was San Francisco. I explained to my departing guest that I needed to take the call and gave him a wave goodbye. I couldn’t wait for him to be out of my sight so I could stop thinking about what happened.
“Helloooooo. How are you? Are you Grindring?” he said as I picked up the phone. All I could think in the back of my head was, if you only knew! I simply replied, “I’m single. I can do whatever I want.” We talked about our schedules for the week and planned a night we could grab a drink together. He suggested we meet in The Castro since I didn’t make it up there during my last visit. Once our plans were solidified, I hung up and tried to figure out what to do for dinner.
Joe’s Crab Shack was a block away and was one of the few places still open at that hour. I decided to go there. This would be the second mistake of the night, as this was the worst seafood I’d ever had. I couldn’t finish it. I was literally wiping the seasoning off the crab legs with paper towels, and I still could barely tolerate them.
If this was a sign of what was to come from my San Francisco trip, I was going to lock myself in my hotel room when I wasn’t at work. The positive was, it certainly couldn’t get much worse…
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 20, 2012
I woke up after a night of passion and disappointment with Smiles quite confused. I was trying to decide if my dream was reality or my imagination while feeling the disappointment of the truth of the situation.
I was suddenly aware once again how he shot me down when I wanted to discuss things with him the night before. He may have won that battle, but I wasn’t admitting defeat. It wouldn’t be long before we had that discussion. I was just waiting until the next comfortable moment to pop the question.
We woke up at a reasonable hour. Being the night after the office party, I wasn’t expected on time or to be particularly productive that morning. I had nothing planned for the day, so I took my time making my way to work.
I showered and prepped for work while Smiles checked his emails and got dressed. We decided to go downstairs from his apartment to a small diner for breakfast. Smiles grabbed the paper as we walked out the door, and we made out way downstairs.
We sat in a booth and had an interesting interaction with the hostess. It was obvious Smiles was a regular. He came there for breakfast about three times a week. She knew he didn’t need a menu, but handed me one so I could decide what I wanted for breakfast.
When the waitress approached, I witnessed yet another interesting interaction. The two of them went at each other with witty comments like an old married couple. We got our coffee and Smiles opened the paper. I know he had his morning routine, but was he really going to read the paper with me sitting there. Heaven forbid we actually talk to each other.
He perused one article about a woman who died in an elevator at a NYC ad agency. I was quite knowledgeable about the incident, so we discussed it a bit, and surprisingly he put the paper away. I think he realized how rude it was.
We got our food and the chatter was minimal. After we paid our check, I walked back upstairs to use his restrooms before heading uptown to work. I also brushed my teeth since I finally remember to bring a toothbrush. So many times I spent the night, and had no option for brushing my teeth other than a toothpaste covered finger. After I finished, I informed Smiles I would be leaving the toothbrush in his medicine cabinet. At this point, I didn’t ask. I was telling. He didn’t have a choice here. I know the toothbrush can become a symbol in a relationship for taking things to a new level, but I didn’t care. If he wanted to read into it, so be it. Didn’t matter to me — The toothbrush was staying.
He walked me to the door, and we have a very unceremonious goodbye. It was very awkward, and I wasn’t sure what the deal was.
As I walked to the PATH to head to work, I started to think about Smiles and I. Things had to change. I’d had enough of the run-around. I needed to know what we were. I didn’t need a label. I just needed to know how he felt about me. I was done putting so much of myself into something I was so unsure about. I couldn’t read him. We were going to have that discussion, and we were going to have it soon. I needed answers, because I wasn’t going to drive myself crazy trying to figure him out anymore.
Later that day, I invited him to come with me to a birthday party the following night, Friday. He informed me he was already triple booked for the night and wouldn’t be able to come along.
This was yet one more confirmation for me he wasn’t that into me. I had a party to go to, and I didn’t think twice about asking him to come with me. He already RSVPed for three parties and didn’t invite me to a single one. I also learned he had two parties on Saturday and one on Sunday. Yet more things in which he didn’t think to include me.
I resolved myself at that point to waiting him out. If he was interested in me, he was going to have to start chasing me a little bit. I wasn’t going to call. I wasn’t going to text. If he wanted to talk to me, he’d have to make the effort…
Follow @onegayatatimeMoving Date
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 2, 2012
After my impromptu date with Smiles Monday night, I sent him a text telling him how I truly felt. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable doing it, but that’s who I am. I speak my mind. I realized I needed to start being myself and stop worrying about “auditioning” for Smiles.
The next morning, I received a very surprising text from Smiles. “Morning handsome, sleep well? I woke up at 4:30 ready to go for the day! Weird huh? Guess that happens when into bed at 10:00. LOL. Hope you have a good day.”
He never sent me text messages like that. Maybe I’d opened up a new door that granted me access to his feelings. I shot him a text back as I walked to work: “Morning sexy. Slept great! Can’t believe you were ever up that early! Good luck with your client today!” The previous night, while talking with my roommate in my bedroom, I noticed written among the list of other things actually in the box on one of the packed boxes on my bookshelf was “Sex Toys.” After asking my roommates and my sister if they were the culprits, I snapped a picture with my phone and sent it to Smiles with the caption. “Btw… Was this you?” He copped up to doing it.
“LOL. Now I’m that guy walking down the street laughing to himself that everyone looks at like he’s nuts…” I responded.
I went on with my workday and didn’t hear from him again. Late that night, I sent him a text: “Hey babe. How’d your day go?” but sadly, I received no response.
I woke early the next day to begin my long arduous day of moving to a new apartment. This was no small feat. I own a lot of things, and we weren’t able to procure a moving team since we were moving mid-week. Myself and my three roommates were going to have to work overtime to get it all done in one day. I had been dreading it for two months.
The morning was spent retrieving a UHaul truck and loading it up. That was the easy part. We had an elevator for that part. The hard part would come when moving into our new apartment. In the middle of all this, I got a text from Smiles. It was a welcome distraction, but I barely even had the time to look at the message. “Hey there. Find anything to do today?” I responded indignantly, “Are you kidding me?! So sore already.” He responded with laughter and a wink. “Presentation to dr.’s went well today. Just finished grabbing lunch and getting back to work,” he detailed. I congratulated him and went back to lifting heavy boxes and furniture.
After hours and hours of grueling lifting, walking and carrying, I took a break to eat something. I realized I’d forgotten to eat all day, and I was starving! As I was finally putting food into my face, I received another text from Smiles. It was just the little pick-me-up I needed to get me through the rest of the night. “How did the move go? Ya worn out yet? I’m not looking forward to this surgery Friday. More on my mind than it should be. :(” He scheduled an appendectomy for himself in the coming days. Apparently it was weighing on his mind. In this respect, Smiles is a delicate flower. He was stressing himself over routine surgery. I found it cute. I was happy to be seeing his fragile side.
After reading his message, I tried to call him. I received a text message in response: “At Webster Hall. A friend from L.A. is performing tonight.” I’d forgotten he had plans for the evening. “Oh yea… I’m pooped but far from done… Don’t worry about your appendix. Call me later if you’re not too intoxicated ;),” I responded. I knew I would be up for a few more hours if nothing more than to find some sort of bed to sleep on. Smiles responded, “LOL. Light drinking. I promise.”
He called as he was making his way home for the night. I was exhausted from working to the bone all day. I swear I lost ten pounds that day. I become so much more energized the moment my phone rang. I knew immediately it was from him. We talked about my grueling day and what he did to occupy himself for the day. He told me about his friend and the concert that night before we said goodnight. That little call was all I wanted and was looking forward to all day.
I could go to bed happy, even though I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor amongst a sea of boxes.
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 
Typical Tuesday
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 28, 2013
It was the middle of July in NYC, and while many might find the thought of that heat taxing, I’ve always enjoyed the summertime. People are out during all hours of the day and night. The city comes alive because people are willing to spend more of their time outdoors.
We dropped our bags and immediately took the elevator to the penthouse floor. A few others share the same thinking we did, and they were enjoying the days final rays with a few cocktails and some light-hearted conversation. CK and I made our way to the far side of the roof and swapped stories about our days. Through the course of our conversation, I learned he had some work left to do for the evening. It just so happened to be my expertise, so I offered to help when we finally made our way back downstairs. I told him this would have to wait until after we ate dinner of course because I was starving. As the last few beams of light disappeared behind the buildings on banks of the Hudson River in New Jersey, we exchanged a romantic kiss and made our way back downstairs.
It was a really nice night. We’d fallen into this routine finally, and I was really enjoying it. We were a couple, and there was no fighting. When the good times came, I genuinely appreciated them. I was beginning to wonder if we were a Ronnie and Sammi kind of couple for a little while there (Couldn’t resist the Jersey Shore reference there). That was a scary thought. I didn’t want to be the couple who constantly fought. We loved each other far more than that.
When I finally woke, it was much later, and I suggested we go to bed. I could see CK was tired, and it was obvious I’d had enough with the day. We made our way to his room and slid into bed. I didn’t even make the pit stop to brush my teeth. I’m not sure why I was so exhausted, but I’m pretty sure I was asleep before my head came to rest on the pillow.
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