Posts Tagged enamored

Is This Really Working?

Since my last date with Southern Drawl, he had been bothering me for another date. I was trying to take things slow with him. I wasn’t gaga for him by any means. He was growing on me a little, but he still left a lot to be desired.

We made plans to make plans after work Tuesday evening. I left work when he was about finished after trying to bang out a blog entry and made my way downtown to his office. I waited for him on the street corner to finish work for about ten minutes when it began to drizzle. I had not expected rain at all and had no umbrella. I was growing impatient. I called him, but he didn’t answer. Finally, I noticed him walking up to me at a very slow pace with his headphones attached to his phone.

Normally, I would greet someone I’d gone on this many dates with a kiss, but not him. He was too self-conscious. He was not out and was not comfortable with public displays of affection. This bothered me. I needed someone who could love himself enough to not care about everyone else.

We decided to walk downtown on the High Line. I climbed the stairs, and he walked behind me. We took a nice stroll south to find a place to grab dinner. We didn’t have a place in mind, but we had a neighborhood — the West Village. We talked about our days while we walked. Once again, he made a crack, and I didn’t respond well. It was always hard to gauge his sense of humor. We never seemed to be on the same page. If I joked back, he would tell me I was getting defensive and loud. It was insulting. He obviously didn’t get my sarcastic sense of humor.

When we reached the end of the High Line, we descended the stairwell and walked to find food. We passed more than a few places that looked good, but they didn’t have any available tables. They were either too crowded or they appeared non-desirable. We finally came to Frankies 570. I had been there, and the food is amazing. I hesitated going there for a solid second because I already had memories with Smiles there. We shared a really nice meal there one night after work. Then I thought about it, and it made more sense for me to expunge those memories. I could overwrite them with new ones. I didn’t exactly have positive associations with him. I felt used by him as a meal companion.

I suggested it to S.D., and we perused menu before going in. He agreed on the spot and was seated by the front widow at a nice table for two. We ordered drinks and chatted casually. It was nice to sit and relax and just talk about things and my day. We discussed his coming trip home. He was very excited. This would be the last time I saw him before he left. He told me he’d be sending me a lot of pictures from home and would call periodically.

Throughout dinner, he was much more demur than usual. There were no overtly sexual comments and no innuendoes. It was kinda nice. He asked a lot of questions as well. Usually, he was just talking away. It was nice to talk about our upbringings and his home, however, his sense of entitlement was still shining through. He spoke about politics and slavery. He told me stories of his family and how they basically still had slaves. He certainly wasn’t winning me over. I was never all that thrilled with the South’s way of doing things, and he was certainly perpetuating the stereotype in my mind. I also learned how important money is to him, and it was a real turnoff.

Slowly but surely, I was realizing this guy really wasn’t right for me. We had so little in common. I was simply enamored by someone paying attention to me and being interested in me. We were in a downward spiral.

On the positive side, my meal was spectacular. I ordered the rabbit ragu and enjoyed every bite. My drinks was pretty amazing as well.

When we finished eating, we sat there talking a bit more before heading out. When we finished our drinks, he accidentally spilled his water all over me. It was a bit humorous because we were just joking about it, and it embarrassed him immensely. The table next to us took notice of the large commotion this caused, as did the wait staff. We paid our tab and made our way out into the street.

He walked me to the corner to say goodbye. I could tell he was very uncomfortable. I was a block from the PATH and ready to head home. I was not going to a second location, and I was not going home with him. I think he was itching to hang out more, but I wasn’t interested. Just as I was about to go in for a kiss, he turned his head. I was partially p*ssed and partially happy. This was creating an out for me. I scoffed at him and began to walk across the street to go home. He chased me and stopped me on the other side of the street. I told him what he did was not cool at all. As he went in for a kiss, I played along, and at the last second, I too turned my head. Just then, a man was crossing the street and witnessed this. He began to chuckle to himself, and I pointed this out to S.D. He was embarrassed. It served him right. If he thought he had a chance with me, he’d have to sack up. I wasn’t about to date a closet case. I’d moved past that.

We said our goodbyes, and we finally did share a kiss. There was nothing magical. He was still self-conscious. He may have made a good friend, but I couldn’t see myself with him in a relationship. I finally came to see the light. I said goodnight and hailed him a cab. I put him in the cab and said goodbye. I wouldn’t see him for over a week. This would give time for things to settle and fizzle out. I wasn’t going to end things over the phone across state lines, but I wasn’t going to make myself available while he was gone.

After all, I was back out there searching for a real prospect. I needed a real man who could make me happy. I didn’t need to settle on a guy like this. I live in NYC. I fired up Grindr to check my messages on my walk home. There are great gay men everywhere. Now, they just needed to find me…

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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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Special Forces

My time in San Francisco ended. I was thrilled I finally got to meet the online friend I’d shared so much of my life with over the past two years. We grew much closer in the little time I spent with him. I was already looking forward to the next time I would get to see him.

Early Saturday morning, I made my way to the airport. I was off to Chicago to finish out my week-long work trip. I’ve actually begun to look forward to these plane trips. It’s one of the few times I can sit and concentrate on writing blog entries without any distractions.

As I boarded the plane, I made my way past first class to my standard seat. I was happy to see it was a newer plane with slightly extended leg room. Being 6’2″, flying has become quite uncomfortable these days. I look forward to the day I get an upgrade, but those days seem to happen about once a year, even with status.

I was also thrilled to find I was sitting next to a very good-looking man with a great body. I could tell this guy was no weekend warrior. He spent a lot of time taking care of himself. I was enamored by his square jaw line and cute dimples. He started chatting me up when they announced the upgrade of six passengers to first class. Since we are both larger gentlemen, we jealously talked about their comfort levels with a certain level of “good for them.” I asked him what he does and learned he was a green beret in the Army Special Forces. I scolded him for not making that known. “If you were in uniform, you’d be first in line to get one of those seats!” He was such a nice guy. “It’s cool. I’m fine here,” he replied nonchalantly. It was such a nice change of pace not having to sit next to someone fat who stole half my seat or who smelled and ruined my entire flight.

Apparently, I wasn’t going to get through very much writing on the plane. So much for no distractions. I asked him if he was headed for business or pleasure. He told me he was flying to Brussels for an internship in defense analysis for the next three months. He told me all about what he does and how much he loves doing it. He also took the time to ask me what I do. I was proud to be sitting next to this man. To me, he was bigger than sitting next to a celebrity. I’ve always had a major soft spot for the military service men and women. Not necessarily in a sexual way. Being in the Navy was my grandfather’s proudest accomplishment. I regularly donate to the USO in his memory partly because I know how much it meant to him, but more so because I know what they have to give up to serve our country. I have friends in the service, so I’ve seen first hand what they sacrifice to keep us safe.

Through chatting with him more, I also learned his girlfriend is also in the Air Force. They were both stationed in California while he was finishing up at the Naval Postgraduate School and got to see each other on the weekends. They had it rough. They got to see each other so rarely, my heart really went out to him. We talked a great deal about his relationship and how they make it work. He realized it wasn’t ideal, but they make it work. I admired his convictions. I asked if she’d be coming to visit him while he was abroad in Belgium, but they have yet to determine if it would be worthwhile since he doesn’t know what his leave will be yet.

The more I talked to him, the more I realized how polite, cute, smart and sexy he is. I wanted to be friends with this guy. I wanted to hit up the bar and buy him a beer. It was completely in a non-sexual way too. Since I was young, I’ve craved to have “the guys.” I’ve never had a group of guys I’ve hung out with regularly. And, I’m not talking about a gaggle of gay men either. I’m talking about a group of men, gay or straight, who hung out all the time and were just real. We could rely on each other to have our backs, no matter what. He seemed like a guy who would fit that mold. He was a genuine good guy. I always try to surround myself with individuals like him, but it’s not easy.

When the flight attendant was coming by handing out drinks and asking for food/snack orders, I wanted to buy him one of my favorite United Tapas snack boxes. Had she not asked him before she asked me, I probably would have done it, however, looking back I’m not disappointed it didn’t work out. It may have made him feel awkward or uncomfortable. I just wanted to show my appreciation first-hand for what he does, however, I didn’t want to do it at the expense of his comfort. He probably had no idea I was gay, but some people are uncomfortable taking handouts. I also loved watching him flirt with the flight attendants. He was quite a smooth operator without being overt or corny.

When the plane landed, he proved once again his gentleman status. He was “Mr. Chivalrous” helping all the women with their bags. I glanced over at his boarding pass for his connecting flight to Brussels and caught a glimpse of his rank, Major and his name. He turned to me just before stepping into the aisle and wished me luck on my pitch.

As we exited the plane, I snapped a picture as he walked away (trying not to be creepy!).

When I got to my hotel, I hopped online to see if I could look him up. I wasn’t going to stalk him. I was just curious to know more about him. I found him on LinkedIn and learned more about his educational/occupational background. It is vastly impressive. I resisted the urge to add him as a connection on there and went about my day.

While I was in Chicago, I planned to visit my friend who moved there a few months prior. I hit him up when I landed because I was going to try to meet him for dinner/drinks that evening instead of dining with my coworkers. He replied telling me he had a fever and wouldn’t be able to make it out while I was in town, and we’d connect at a later date.

This was going to truly be a work trip, so I dove in full force to make sure I delivered.

In only somewhat related news…

A photo I came across in my Facebook feed over the past week makes me smile every time I see it. I dove into researching all about it. I am fascinated by it and love the media attention it is receiving. This shouldn’t be getting media attention. It should simply stand on its own as an amazing display of love and affection. But, until homosexuals are treated as equals, I welcome the attention. I hope it inspires you to be more courageous in your life, as it has inspired me.

If you’d like to read the full story of what is happening in these images, click here.

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