Posts Tagged hangover

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After an arduous morning dealing with a nasty hangover and an overly energetic Hip, CK and I managed to finally emerge from our hibernation. But, not before we washed away the stink from the night before.

CK and I have been saving the planet for months now. Whenever we showered, we conserved water by showering together. We helped each other ensure all our crevices were clean. We brushed our teeth and got ready to face the world outside.

We decided to head toward Central Park, but we never quite made it there. Put an establishment like Shake Shack in front of three hungover guys who love to eat, and the rest of the world disappears immediately. We hopped in line and discussed at length all the food we were going to consume. Shakes, fries, burgers… The works! As we were paying, CK suggested we take our food to go and enjoy it outside. Hip and I agreed. When our food was ready we grabbed our shakes and sucked them down like someone might steal them.

We were out the door headed straight to Rockefeller Center. It was actually shaping up to be a nice day. We sat on the benches in front of 30 Rock Center and watched the tourists while we ate. In true CK fashion, he found a group of Spanish-speaking women who were visiting and needed help getting everyone in the group shot. I was simply happy to be out and about in the sunshine rather than being cooped up in CK’s apartment. It was a good distraction. Surprisingly, it was actually helping me get over my massive hangover. That, and the greasy burger and fries and a milkshake. While I was slowly getting over my hangover, I wasn’t quite getting over the night before. I suppose I was putting on a decent face, but deep down inside, I was hurting. I was appalled by how CK treated me after dating for three months.

When we finished eating, CK explored all of Rockefeller Center taking pictures as he moved along. Hip recently had hip replacement surgery, and he was starting to feel it. I kept him company as we sat playing Where’s Waldo in the crowd of people to find CK. When he circled back around, I hinted to him that we should go so Hip could get off his feet. He still had to head back to Brooklyn as well.

On the walk home, CK proposed we try to go to the concert again. I wasn’t so sure I was up for it. I told him we’d discuss it when Hip left since he already expressed his lack of interest in trying to go again.

When it was just the two of us again, we discussed things. Like I said, I still wasn’t quite over the night before, even if we did discuss it that morning and fooled around. When I got it all off my chest, we discussed the concert that night. CK was scheming to get in some way, shape or form. He was hoping to sweet-talk the ticket collectors into letting us in. I told him I would go, but I made no promises how long I would stay, and in full disclosure, I told him I certainly wouldn’t be the most energetic with the effects of my hangover still lingering.

We got ready and made our way to Terminal 5. When we got to the door, CK did all the talking, but it was no use. They weren’t feeling sympathetic at all. The person in line behind us, however, was. While CK was busy sweet-talking, I began chatting with the guy behind us in line. He asked if we needed tickets, and when I explained what happened, he offered us his two extra tickets at no charge. CK was still arguing with the ticket collectors when I finally got him to shut up. I handed them our tickets, and we walked in the door. CK had the most confused look on his face as I explained what happened. We immediately thanked the guy in line over and over and over again. It was truly a generous gesture — A serendipitous moment.

We made our way inside and both grabbed waters from the bar before finding a spot to watch the concert amongst the crowd. Our luck was really turning around, and CK was being extra sweet. It was like night and day from the previous night. I think it was then that I was beginning to forgive him.

When the concert started, I got a little more energy from the crowd. I suppose it was a little infectious. We danced shirtless and laughed and had a good time. Scissor Sisters really do put on a good show. They’re one of the most genuine bands I’ve ever seen perform. You could tell they were having as much fun as the crowd was. This was the final night on the final stop of their tour, and they played it out. There were even points where CK was on my shoulders with me jumping up and down. At one point, CK cut through the crowd like a razor to get to the stage as Jake Shears began crowd-surfing. He came back incredibly excited he touched his hand.

Throughout the night, there were guys aggressively grinding up on my a$$, but I ignored them. However, they started getting a bit more aggressive and overt. I didn’t need this. I was there with my man, and this was quite obvious for all to see. I gently pushed back and then took a big step forward so they could clumsily lose their balance and fall backward. After a few rounds of this, they got the hint I wasn’t interested nor a poll to rub their a$$ on.

At one point, I noticed the assistant of the guy I dated ever so briefly before meeting CK. It was a bit awkward after all. Things didn’t exactly end on good terms there. I avoided eye contact, but as he was leaving, he stopped to say hi. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. I was glad to see he could separate himself from his boss’s issues. That being said, Monday morning, I’m sure he was right back at the office saying, “You’ll never believe who I saw last night!”

When the concert was over, CK was raring to go and wanted to go to a bar. I was spent. I barely made it through the whole concert. I could tell he was disappointed, but he did a good job of hiding it as he took me home. I was happy to see the CK I knew and fell in love with again. When we got back to his place, I was still feeling a bit of the infectious energy from the crowd, and CK was still in concert mode. We stripped down to get ready for bed, but instead of falling asleep, we had the most epic sex we’d ever had to date. It was incredible! It was exactly what we needed. All our frustrations and cares were gone. It was a bit mind-blowing. It was passionate love-making at its best. It was all there, and I was truly happy again.

After our epic romp in the sheets, it was time for bed. We had plans for the following day, and we both had a very long and eventful weekend already. With that, we turned out the lights, and I fell asleep with CK nestled in my arms.

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Cooler Heads Prevail

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Ladies and Gentleman, My Boyfriend

The morning after my “wild night,” I woke early. I was happy to realize I didn’t have a hangover, but I had a lot to do. I sat at my desk and went through circulars to make a grocery list, I went over my to-do list, I cleaned my bedroom, did two loads of laundry and sorted through my clothes to get rid of some of them. It was a very productive morning. The only thing I didn’t get done was to make it to the gym.

Around 11:00am, CK called. I didn’t want to call him because I was afraid of waking him. I knew he wasn’t a morning person. I was happy to hear his voice. He told me he needed to do laundry and wouldn’t come to Hoboken until about 2:00. I was fine with that. It allowed me to finish what I needed to get done for the morning.

I planned to head over to the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival around 2:00. That’s what I told P and my sister. As I was walking out the door, he called to apologize for running late. He was just walking out the door to hop on the PATH. Obviously he wasn’t going to arrive at 2:00. I told him I’d be at the festival, and I would make my way to him when he arrived.

I managed to find P, my sister and her friend without much effort. P had her dog, Baby, with her and needed to find her water. I told them I needed to make my way to the PATH to get CK, and they were welcome to join me. They all followed. We waited at the PATH for some time before he finally arrived. It was close to 3:45 before he finally arrived. He was running late as usual. I happily introduced him to the three of them, and we made our way back to the festival to find lunch.

Before he arrived, I had a worry in the back of my head. We were used to showing affection openly, but not in Hoboken. I still wasn’t out to everyone I knew around town, and I had my reservations about PDA. I was trying to get over it. There was no reason I shouldn’t feel comfortable being myself. But, I can’t lie. I was very nervous.

That being said, I greeted him with a hug, and we spent a large portion of the day holding hands and our arms around each other. This was a first for me. I did relax a bit and began to let my guard down.

We found the steak sandwiches I’ve gotten many years in the past and hopped in line. My old roommate (also my favorite roommate) was making his way toward us, so I told him where we were. I introduce him to CK, and he reminded me I’d met the girl he was with in the past.

As we ate, we walked uptown chatting. He mentioned wanting to do something special for my birthday that Friday. He asked if I’d be able to get out of work early, and I told him it shouldn’t be a problem. All I knew about this surprise was that it would cater to my adventurous side. I thought it was incredibly sweet of him to plan something special for me.

When we reached the north end of the festival, I was ready for dessert. I hadn’t passed anything along the way I really wanted, so I decided to hit up Ralph’s for some cream ice. I ordered the peanut butter cookie dough, and we shared it. It was utterly amazing.

P, my sister, her friend, CK and I were all heading to City Bistro to grab a drink on the rooftop bar since it was such a nice day. We found a seat and relaxed. I could tell one of the guys on the roof was making comments about CK and I, but I didn’t care. I continued resting my hand on his leg or putting my arm around him. I noticed two guy I thought might be gay and informed CK of the “Pickle game” I’d learned from Boston in Miami. We agreed they were gay.

The time came for us to head out. CK wanted to go for a ride on the motorcycle, and I needed to start dinner. We had to stop at ShopRite on the way home for supplies, and it was a bit of a walk home. CK wasn’t happy, but he did it — Not without complaining most of the way.

When we got home, we cuddled in bed for a few minutes before I told him I wanted him to help me with dinner. As I put the beef roast in the oven, I asked him to slice the potatoes for the scalloped potatoes on the mandolin. I warned him quite pointedly to be careful since the blade was so sharp, and I’d already cut myself pretty severely on it once, as did my mother. When he was cutting the last potato, he sliced his finger pretty badly.

I immediately ran to his rescue. He was bleeding pretty bad, but not enough for stitches. He sliced off a small piece of the tip of his thumb. He was now the third person to cut themselves on that mandolin (Him, my mother, and myself). He couldn’t believe how well I was handling the blood. I told him I was a lifeguard for seven years and had my own share of accidents involving a lot of blood. “Awww. Baby, you’re my lifeguard,” he said. I bandaged him up, told him to hold his arm above his head, gave him some painkillers and told him to sit on the couch. Maybe asking him to help was not a good idea. I thought it would be romantic, but it turned out tragic.

When dinner was ready, we ate in front of the TV. He raved about how good dinner was. We watched the shows I normally record on a Sunday night. It was really nice to have him fit so nicely into my routine. That was a sign our relationship had a solid foundation.

When we got tired, we made our way to my bedroom. He must have been really tired, and he kept dozing off. I wanted sex, but it was quite obvious that wasn’t going to happen. It’d been quite some time since we had sex, but I would have to settle for some cuddling instead.

He was out cold, so I brushed my teeth and came back to bed. I must have roused him, because he too got out of bed to brush his teeth. We turned out the light and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It’s rare to find me happier than when I wake up next to him. It’s impossible not to have a smile from ear-to-ear. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. As per usual, he began to give me a bl*wjob. It was one of his favorite morning activities. He told me he wanted me to finish for him. This is an immediate killer for me. I begin to concentrate on that alone. (I really need to see someone about this!) After a while, I told him it was time to shower. I scooped him up and carried him to the shower. He began bl*wing me outside the shower as well. I was too distracted in the bathroom, so I grabbed his hand and led him back to the bed. He felt amazing, and when he began teasing my boys with his tongue, I used my hand to get me over the edge.

“Baby. You taste so sweet today!” he told me. I was a bit shocked to hear this considering N told me I tasted awful. This made me like CK so much more in that moment. Seconds later, he exploded all over his own abdomen. It was incredibly hot to watch.

We went back to the shower and cleaned up. That morning, we joked about water sports. He threatened to pee on me in the shower. I told him if he did, I would certainly be returning the favor. When I saw his warm stream hitting my feet, I delivered on my promise. Both of us immediately got weirded out, and that ended immediately. “Yea. That’s definitely not going to be a thing!” I exclaimed. He nodded his head in sever agreement. Afterwards, I bandaged his finger once again and gave him a band-aid for the road.

We got ready and made our way to the PATH. I had to say goodbye to him in Hoboken to get my allergy shot, and he hopped on the PATH.

Monday, he called me as I was picking out a wedding card at CVS. He wanted to know if I was still in the city so we could meet up for a bit. I’d just gotten off the PATH five minutes prior. He was hopping elevator, so he told me he’d call me when he got up to his apartment, but I didn’t hear back from him.

I sent him a picture message of a t-shirt saying “I would cuddle you so hard.” He didn’t acknowledge the message. When I called later that evening, he seemed weird. He told me he was reading Hunger Games and sounded like I woke him up. The conversation was very short and awkward, so I just said goodnight and went to bed.

We made plans for Tuesday, but work got in the way for him. I proposed getting together Wednesday night at my place for Revenge again instead. I also left work early to pick up my new custom-made bed. I was so excited! I brought it home and assembled it. It was amazing. I sent him pictures, and he responded, “Can’t wait to break it in!” He also asked me if I would be interested in a show at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. I told him that sounded great. Later Tuesday night, I texted him, but got no response until 12:30, just after I dozed off.

The question of fidelity did cross my mind for a hot second. I wondered if we needed to have the exclusivity conversation or was that covered under the can I be your boyfriend conversation? It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but my mind can run wild at times. I was just going to keep it in the back of my mind until I decided whether it was necessary to bring it up…

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Cleaning Up

My night had gone pretty smoothly. I had a great time, there was minimal drama and I ended the night with a great guy, Smiles.

I did my best to put all the food away before heading to bed the night before. It was a fairly easy cleanup. However, that left all the dishes to be done and a lot of cleaning around the apartment.

I woke at a decent hour and didn’t even have a hint of hangover, which is surprising considering I drank sangria most of the night. My teammate from Maryland woke shortly after me. She needed to go into the city to catch a bus home, but was going to stick around for breakfast before she left. She asked if she could have some of the leftovers, and I prepared a few things for her.

In the meantime, Smiles emerged from my bed, and we made coffee for ourselves with my Keurig Elite Brewer coffee machine. It’s perfect because we can each pick our flavor of tasty Green Mountain Coffee, and we don’t have to wait for a whole pot to brew. It’s absolutely great! (Yes, I’m plugging them because I absolutely love that thing, and I’m hoping they read this and feel gracious enough to reach out to me… Wishful thinking…)

After she ate, my teammate asked for directions to the bus back into the city to Port Authority and was on her way. Smiles had made his way back to my bedroom and got dressed to head home. I was hoping he’d stick around for a little bit (I wasn’t expecting him to help clean), but I was mistaken. I would have liked to spend a lil more time with him, but he had plans.

I said goodbye to him with a kiss and a hug as I thanked him for everything from the night before.

My other roommate who was stuck in Canada arrived home in the meantime. He asked about the party. He was very disappointed he missed it. He’d been to three of the previous four even though we’d only been roommates six months.

Then, I was left with my mess. I did all the dishes and ran the dishwasher. I put all the wine in the wine fridge. I poured all the leftover sangria down the drain trying not to gag. I put all the liquor no one drank away. And then I swept the floors. They hadn’t been swept since we moved in.

I did all this while my roommates sat on the couch watching TV. My happy mood had soured. I didn’t expect them to help. I made it clear to them it was my party. Therefore it was my mess to clean up. However, after asking for permission, the roommate that was away had no problem scarfing down a plate of the food and leaving it in the sink for me to clean up. And, the other roommate, who attended the party and did nothing to help me prepare didn’t lift a finger. I didn’t resent that they weren’t helping me clean up. I more resented that I worked my ass off to get the apartment in shape, and they didn’t offer one iota of gratitude. Sure, it was out of selfish desires that I worked so hard and fast. But, they both greatly benefited from my efforts.

The cleaning was over surprisingly fast. When I finished, I planted myself on the couch for the remainder of the evening.

Later than evening, I witnessed my roommate come out of her room and heat up a plateful of the leftovers from the night before. I really resented this, purely because she didn’t take the two seconds to ask me if she could have it. I can be generous at times, but she didn’t pay one cent for it and did nothing to prepare it. The least she could do is ask.

So, I did what any mature roommate would do. When she went into her room, I left a passive aggressive post-it on the fridge saying, “If you didn’t lift a finger to purchase this food or make it, then don’t lift a finger to eat it.” I’m not sure why I was in such a p*ssy mood, but it really got under my skin. I think I was just feeling very under-appreciated overall, and I was taking it out on her.

Later she emerged once again from her room. As she passed the fridge, she read the note, made a noise of discontent and returned to her room.

I had the immediate satisfaction of getting under her skin as much as she did mine, but I would certainly have to deal with the ramifications of that later. I returned to watching TV and being in a cranky mood for the rest of the night. I wished I’d spent the day with Smiles. I was in such a good mood from spending time with him the night before. Hopefully tomorrow would bring happier times…

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Waking Up Drunk

When I woke up in the morning, I had little recollection of the night before, even leaving the bar. I could only remember a flash of about ten seconds of sex, and I actually remembered enjoying it. It was a scary feeling.

As the morning progressed, I didn’t let on that I blacked out the night before. I was hoping Smiles would divulge enough details for me to start piecing things together. I had so much to drink, I was still drunk when I woke that morning.

He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to lean off the bed to retrieve my boxers and put them on.

I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up as best I could. I tried to fix my hair, but it was no use. I made a comment to Smiles about this, and he noted it was because I showered the night before. I showered the night before? I did not remember that AT ALL!

I wanted nothing more than to brush my teeth. Of course, Smiles didn’t have an extra toothbrush. I squirted toothpaste on my finger and brushed my teeth Survivor style. This was turning out to be a pretty sh*tty morning. I asked Smiles if I could borrow a t-shirt instead of my button-down from the night before.

Smiles detailed what he wanted to do with his day. He had a lot of boxes in his apartment he wanted to get into storage. He was able to procure a storage unit across the street from his apartment. It was necessary to transport his belongings from a storage unit in Harlem. I volunteered to help him since I had no plans for the day and was looking forward to spending more time with him. I had no idea how big a mistake that would be.

We began our journey at Starbucks. He ordered his favorite “salty pretzel drink,” and I ordered a coffee, a brownie, and pound cake. I was starving. We quickly snagged a cab to stay on schedule and sped up the FDR Drive. The cab wasn’t able to drive all the way to the storage facility because the New York City Marathon route was between us and the facility. We arrived at the storage unit just before his appointment only to find that the storage shuttle he booked was unable to make it to the facility. The trek uptown was for not.

We walked to the nearest subway stop downtown, and hopped aboard. At this point, my hangover was kicking in hardcore. I was feeling very sick. With every subway stop, I climbed deeper and deeper into the misery hole. Smiles was trying to talk to me, and I was giving him “um hm’s.” When we were about three stops from getting off, I started to feel extremely nauseous. I was not going to vomit in front of Smiles and in front of everyone else on the subway. I was going to make it, even if I had to run to a trash can on the street. I used all my being to keep it down and not give it up. Smiles could see I was not doing well, and suggested we hit up a bodega for a bottle of water. The minute I entered the fresh air, I felt infinitely better, but I still wasn’t 100%. I downed a bottle of water and soldiered on.

We walked around a bit and did some window shopping before stopping to grab lunch at Lucky Strike. I ordered a sandwich, but I wasn’t able to eat it. Smiles was very sweet all day long trying to take care of me. He gave many suggestions for ailments, but many of them involved liquor. No matter how small the amount, the mere thought was triggering my gag reflex. I asked the bartender to box up my lunch so I could eat it later in the day when I was feeling better. He provided me with some relief by offering peppermint essential oil to rub on my temples and under my nose. Surprisingly, it worked quite well.

We walked back to Smiles’ apartment so I could gather my things to head home. It was clear I was no longer a human being. I was a mere shell of a man. I kissed Smiles goodbye and walked north to the Christopher Street PATH station.

I went home and curled up on the couch and watched TV while I contemplated my recent life choices. After about an hour I was able to eat my croque-monsieur, and it was delicious. Hopefully my day would end better than it started.

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Back On Top

In unrelated news, I came across this video from my fellow blogger, http://www.ty-curious.com/. He shared it with me, and I think it’s spectacular. Totally safe for work! Hope you like it! Take the time to check out his blog too. Great guy!

On with the story…

After my ride back to Hoboken, Smiles and I chatted on Facebook.

He described his drunken night involving too much Patron and a lost iPhone. He hadn’t had a chance to track it down, so I offered my assistance to make some phone calls for him. He was grateful, but had it under control. While he described his night, I described my time out in the sticks with no power or technology. “Yeah… It was a real Amish paradise,” I said.

Once again, I had to facilitate plans with him. He typed, “Okay. Off to go get food. I’m starved.” I quickly replied, “What are you doing later?” I knew it would be difficult getting ahold of him the second he signed off for the day. It’d been a while since I’d seen him, and I was anxious to do so. “No plans, although I may go back to the bar tonight for a Halloween thing,” he declared. I wish he had the same desire to see me to invite me without provocation, but I’ll take what I can get. “Wanna try to get together later?” I asked.

“Jump on the bike and come over and have brunch with me,” he finally stated. I explained the bike was snowed in with a dead battery, but I told him I’d meet him for brunch. I quickly made my way into the city to meet him at the Christopher Street PATH station. I arrived well before him and waited for him to show. I couldn’t call to find out what was keeping him, so I tried to occupy myself with my phone.

When he finally arrived, I wasn’t greeted with a kiss. I could have initiated the situation myself, but again, I was still in the mindset to play a little hard-to-get. We walked to a nice brunch spot neither of us have tried before, Barbuto. It was great. We got a nice seat next to the kitchen, which in most situations is a bad thing, but in this case, was entertaining.

Smiles ordered a beer after wavering between that and a bloody mary to help cure his hangover, and I ordered a glass of red wine. We took the time waiting for the food to arrive to catch up with each other. He was a little quiet, but I had plenty of stories to tell from my time home. We talked a bit about his family as well, and I started to get a better picture of the dynamic going on there.

Our food arrived, and we were both very pleased with the results. After we paid our tab, we decided to walk around a bit since the weather was so gorgeous. We walked to Doma Coffee Shop to grab coffees while we walked around. We had no plan for our day. After we grabbed caffeine, he turned to me and asked what I wanted to do. I told him I was just happy to be out, and it didn’t matter to me what we did. We started to walk around aimlessly. When we came upon Pleasure Chest sex shop, he suggested we pop in. This wasn’t the first time walking into a sex shop with him. I was game.

We looked at all the toys in the place and even asked one of the workers there to explain one of the feminine toys to us. We had more than a few laughs as we perused the store.

We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around SoHo looking for hats to replace the one he lost. I was happy to spend the day with him. We did some shopping for other things while we searched for hats. While I was checking out to pay for the flannel shirt I picked up, I could see in his eyes he was exhausted. He was fading fast. He suggested we go back to his place to take a nap. I myself wasn’t feeling very sleepy, but I rather liked the idea of napping with him.

We got back to his place and climbed into bed. I put on my new flannel and got comfortable. Surprisingly, I passed out rather quickly. He, on the other hand had a hard time falling asleep.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. After about an hour, we were both awake. He turned to face away from me, so I decided to make a move. I engulfed him in my arms and spooned with him. After some time passed, I gently began caressing him all over and slid my hand between his thighs. I began massaging him until he turned his head back to kiss me. It was on — FINALLY! Things only got more passionate from there. It wasn’t long before he pulled out a condom, put it on me, and climbed on top. I was finally getting my turn as top dog (even though I was on the bottom). The sex was good, and I enjoyed having sex facing him with the lights on. However, once again, he finished, and I wasn’t able to.

Embarrassment came flooding in.  I was very attracted to him, and I enjoyed the sex, but something underlying wasn’t allowing me to relax and fully enjoy the moment. I was very close, but I just couldn’t get over that last hump (no pun intended). This wasn’t the first time this happened, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

After sex, we both showered and cleaned up. He had plans to meet friends at his favorite restaurant to say goodbye to a bartender friend who was leaving for another restaurant. I was a little curious why he didn’t extend an invitation, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. We made some progress, and I wanted to concentrate on the positive. I was doing my best to play hard-to-get, but I really liked him. I wanted this to continue. I wanted to get to know him more. I wanted to be closer to him physically. I wanted him.

We got dressed and walked towards the PATH and Extra Virgin, where he was headed. When we reached a crossroads, we said goodbye with a quick kiss and went on our separate ways.

Later that night, I got a message from him complaining about having to go to the bar to see if his phone was found. I sympathized with him and wished him luck.

When he got back from the bar, he messaged again to tell me he had no luck. I felt bad for him, but selfishly, all I could think about was how hard it was going to be to get ahold of him without a phone. The next couple of days would pose an interesting challenge.

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A Night Away (Or Not)

Time away. Time away from work. From stress. From my relationship problems. Time away from N. I just needed time away to escape it all.

Following work that Friday, I hit the road to the Jersey Shore at 1:30 with one of my best friends, D. We were getting a head start on the mass exodus that happens every weekend in Hoboken. We really lucked out and didn’t hit any traffic. My stomach was very gracious for this because my hangover was just starting to kick in. I woke earlier that morning, and I was still drunk. I walked into work with my sunglasses on and asked everyone to leave me in peace if at all possible. My wish was granted. Now I was stuck in a car and the positive effects of the alcohol were wearing off.

I thought my conversation with N ended for the day when I signed off Gchat. We had a decent chat, but things certainly weren’t casual yet. Exchanges were still slightly awkward, especially since I tried to drag him to my bed the night before.

However, N wasn’t done talking to me apparently. About half way down to Belmar, I received a text from him. “How was your half day? Are you dts yet?” I read it on my phone and grumbled out loud. Even though I was the one who made it awkward the night before, I didn’t even want to think about him. I turned to D, who had just been filled in on the details of the night before, and I told him what the text said. I asked him what I should do. He said, “You’re trying to put distance between you two right? Then ignore it!”

I took his advice, and I was happy about it. I put the phone back in the console and continued to suffer through my hangover in silence. However, the silence was broken ten minutes later when I received a call from a blocked number. I picked it up and of course, no one was on the other side. I wondered if it was N. Was he calling to see if I was ignoring him? I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me enough for me to ignore him, so I thought it best to respond to the text. “Half day was necessary. I was still drunk at work. We’re still in the car…” After that, I got radio silence.

An hour and a half later, I received another text from N asking about traffic and our time of departure. I simply ignored this one. I was going to let him hijack my weekend. It would just ruin my weekend with my friends if I spent all my time texting with the guy I just “broke up” with. After some more time, N felt the need to inform me his roommate was down the shore as well. At this point, I was very short. I simply responded, “I know. We’ve been texting each other.” I was hoping he’d get the hint that he was not included in the nights festivities and his services were not needed. He either got the hint or found something else to entertain his time.

At this point, D and I had been drinking for a few hours. We were both six beers deep. D was starting to feel drunk, but I felt NOTHING. This was a typical occurrence for me. I have a very high tolerance, but I was hoping to get drunk. I turned to D and said, “I think I may switch teams this weekend.” I knew I wasn’t going to find a guy down at the Jersey Shore — not in Belmar anyway. I figured why not find a pretty girl to flirt with and see where things go. Not like I’ve never been there before. D laughed and I could see the excitement in his eyes. He knew if this was going to happen, he was going to have entertainment for the rest of the night. He had a girlfriend who was on her way to meet us, but at least he could watch me hit on hotties.

There was one particular girl I was watching from afar. I liked her interaction with her friends. She was participating in their festivities, but always kept herself slightly detached and available. We made eye contact once or twice, so I promised myself I would talk to her once I was properly lubricated. I would never get the opportunity, however. The group of them walked outside into a torrential downpour of rain. In the next minute, I found myself very attracted to her. Her solution to the rain was to rip off her dress, crumple it in her hands, and sprint through the rain in her bikini. She gained major cool points right then, but it was too late. She was gone in a flash (or should I say splash).

Over the next few hours, I switched from beer to vodka sodas and got properly wasted. My sister and K arrived, shortly followed by D’s girlfriend. We were all having a blast. We were at D’Jais afterall, so my fist was pumping hard. I danced my ass off, stuffed my face, and went back to the sh*ttiest hotel I’ve ever been to with D and his girlfriend.

On the way back to the hotel I checked my Grindr out of curiosity. No quality bites, as I expected. One bite I wasn’t expecting was from N. I checked what the message said. “Having fun finding ZERO gay men in the Belmar/Manasquan area?” I immediately rolled my eyes. What was he doing!? I tried not to think about it and laid my head down on the pillow and fell asleep. He wasn’t worth losing one minute of sleep over anymore.

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