Posts Tagged hotel
Wednesday night arrived. It was “date night” for San Francisco and I. We were meeting in the Castro to grab a drink and maybe some dinner together. It had been a while since I’d seen him last, and we were due for a catch up.
Since work was paying, and I was too lazy to learn the public transit system in San Francisco, I decided to take a cab. We arrive in The Castro neighborhood, and I witnessed the largest rainbow flag I’d ever seen in my life. The only thing I could compare it to (for the Americans in the room) is the giant American flags that adorn the poles in the parking lots of Perkins across the country. If you read my blog, you know how much I’m not a fan of the rainbow. However, I’m embarrassed to admit, the sheer size and presence of this thing actually made me a little proud.
I got out of the cab and met him on the street as we exchanged a hug and a kiss. We made our way to Badlands just up the street just in time for some happy hour specials. We caught up on the other’s dating life over the past few months. I learned San Francisco is currently casually dating someone. In the back of my mind, I’m very happy to hear this news. I didn’t want things to escalate beyond drinks for us, and this news was reassuring.
I told him the abbreviated story of Smiles and what I did on New Year’s Eve. He was a little surprised, but certainly didn’t judge.
As the alcohol flowed, his emotions escalated. He became much more affectionate, and even started to get a bit hot n’ heavy. I just went along with it. I had no emotions attached to these actions. I was fully over San Francisco. I tried changing the subject so he wouldn’t keep putting the moves on me.
He talked about the possibility of moving back to New York, but said it would be very different this time around. He’s a completely different person. Everything he was saying were basically the reasons why I ended things with him. It was as if he’d read the blog. (To my knowledge, he still does not know about the blog).
We started talking about his dream of opening a bar in Hawaii. We talked a great deal about even the smallest details in his dream. I suggested a name for his bar, and he immediately fell in love with it. He even went as far as to register the domain immediately from his BlackBerry. I told him how to do all this with my advertising background and knowledge and my recent experience of purchasing my own domain for this blog.
He then brought up the possibility of checking out a drag show that evening, but then he remembered it wasn’t my thing. Instead, he suggested we grab dinner at one of his favorite restaurants.
The meal was spectacular, and it wasn’t that expensive. I was also introduced to one of his friends who is a server there. As the night went on, San Francisco grew more and more inebriated. He wasn’t’ too much to handle yet, but he was drawing closer. He started growing louder and more indignant.
When the bill arrived, I think he thought I was going to take care of it. I think he thinks I have an unlimited expense account (which isn’t the case at all), when in reality I paid for his meal the last time I was out there because I wanted to thank him for hanging out with me that night. We split the check and made our way for the door.
The whole time, I was trying to send a pretty clear signal I wasn’t interested in hooking up that night. I was failing. He asked if we should go back to my hotel or hit up his apartment. Then he answered his own question when he realized how close to his place we were. Again, I just went with it. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t just go home. I think I thought I could get him home and then say goodnight.
While we rode in a cab to his apartment, he asked me about the stuffed animals and orchids he sent me for my birthday. I explained that was over nine months ago. I was lucky I kept the orchids alive for six months. As far as the stuffed animals, I told him I gave the mistaken monkey away, but I still had the bear (of much more significance) at my parents’ house.
When we got to his place, I met his roommate for the first time. One had only seen me on Skype and heard lots about me, and the other had never met me. Ironically, the other share the same unique name as me and joined on as a roommate shortly following our breakup. I’m not going to lie; I thought it was a bit weird.
When we finished tormenting the roommates with S.F.’s drunken antics, we went into his room. It appeared I was spending the night. However, it was just going to be that. I was not having sex with him.
Of course the makeout session ensued. I thought to myself, “At least he’s a good kisser.” Then the makeout session morphed into more passionate actions, and I found myself with no clothes on. S.F. put me in a position to begin to penetrate me, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. I kept casually squirming so it wouldn’t be possible. He kept gently trying, but I wasn’t going to give in. There was no way in hell I was going to have sex with him, but I also knew I was dealing with a drunk man. I gently whispered into his ear, “Let’s just spend the night together.”
With that, he rolled over into little spoon position. I curled up with him and went to bed. In the morning, when my alarm went off for me to head back to my hotel to go to work, I found myself with his mouth on my “morning excitement.” I had forgotten how good he is at that. It didn’t quite matter. I wasn’t in the mindset to finish with him, and we know how difficult that can be even when I am in the mindset.
I got dressed, and he remained in bed. I could tell he was disappointed, but I didn’t care. I was not going to revisit old territory.
I didn’t hear from him until much later the next day. He told me how hungover he was in the morning, proving to me how drunk he was. He asked what my plans were for the remainder of my trip, but we didn’t discuss meeting up again while I was there. I was happy to dodge that bullet.
I let things go further than I wanted, but at least I didn’t hurt his feelings too harshly in the meantime. In my mind things wouldn’t quite be the same for us going forward. No longer did I feel the urge to call him just to chat, which is sad. It appears I have collected what pieces of my heart I left in San Francisco…
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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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Goodbye 2011 and all the hardship that came with it. 2011 was a tough year, and I was ready to kiss it bon voyage.
New Year’s Eve had arrived, and so did Boston. He came to New York City to celebrate with some friends. They were staying at a hotel in Hell’s Kitchen and going to a bar to ring in the new year. We’d been in close contact about meeting up while he was visiting for some time.
We made plans to meet that night before I met Smiles for dinner, however these plans would be broken. As the night’s close grew nearer, Boston realized he wouldn’t have time, so we agreed to try to meet on New Year’s Day.
Instead, I killed time spying on my neighbors across the street with my roommate before venturing into the city for the night. It appeared we’d discovered two ‘mos living over there after some close examination. However, their blinds have been drawn now for quite some time, hindering further “study.”
Smiles and I had been texting about our plan for the evening. We were going to grab dinner somewhere along the way to the party on the Lower East Side, but when he tried to make a reservation for the restaurant downstairs, he realized the difficulty that may pose. Instead he proposed to make beef stroganoff for the two of us at his apartment. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea because I was looking forward to a romantic dinner for two, but it would have to suffice. (Now you can begin to see why I hate New Years).
After we finished eating, we took a cab to the apartment. Smiles spent a good portion of it on the phone with his mother. I’d already made all my new year’s calls on the walk to Smiles’ apartment from the PATH. I didn’t want to be on my phone the rest of the night trying to call people so I got it out of the way before starting our night together. I thought what he was doing was rude. When he hung up, you could cut the tension in the cab with a knife. Neither of us had anything to talk about. The night was not off to a good start.
We arrived at the party and were greeted by a very nice gentleman who was not the host. He was one of the guys Smiles had gone to Six Flags months earlier (whom he didn’t remember without a reminder). A trip I wasn’t invited on and still bitter about. When the host emerged from the shower, Smiles volunteered to run to the corner store to get necessary supplies. Apparently he wasn’t the best of hosts (or so said Smiles). He asked if I wanted to join him or stay and made sure I was okay with staying.
I took the opportunity to get to know the guy who greeted us while I waited for Smiles to return and more guests to arrive. More people joined us in waves, and it was a pleasure to meet them all. I sat on the couch talking to one in particular for some time. He seemed like a really great guy. Later in the night, I would learn from Smiles that this guy told him how great I was after learning we were together. “He had nothing but glowing praises for you,” Smiles divulged.
A majority of the night, Smiles wasn’t paying attention to me. He was far more concerned with standing in as host. He made sure everyone had a full drink at all times, including me. I had to tell him to cool it because I was getting too drunk too fast. I don’t think he realized I was also filling my own drinks besides what he brought me. I was making plenty of conversation with a lot of the other guys at the party in the meantime. Ironically enough, we were talking about dating. I was giving some of the younger guys my “fatherly advice” from my experiences, which is absurd considering I’m out less than two years. I did all this without mentioning my blog once, no matter how much I wanted to direct them to it. Smiles was still unaware I was writing OneGayAtATime.
When the ball was about to drop, the whole crowd gathered around the TV in the host’s bedroom. Smiles asked if I wanted to pile in, but I told him my lack of interest in watching the ball drop. We huddled by the door as Smiles snapped pictures of the group from the doorway. When 2012 arrived, he turned to me and laid a nice kiss on me. When he pulled back, he went in a second time. It was one of his better kisses and it was sweet, but I’m not sure it could make up for the lack of attention I received all night. It was like we were at the same party, but we certainly weren’t together.
As I talked to the other guys, I felt like I was revealing a big secret that Smiles and I were dating. No one knew, and it was as if I was letting the cat out of the bag. I felt uncomfortable about that.
The music came up and the furniture was pushed aside. The living room was now a dance floor. Smiles and I have never gone out dancing together, so I was relishing the opportunity to have a little fun with him. I started dancing with him, and he started laughing at me. It wasn’t completely insulting, but it was also a slightly belittling. I think I was making him uncomfortable (and I am not a bad dancer by any means!).
When I went to refill my drink, Smiles was in the middle of the group dancing up a storm just as I’d seen him bust a move in Central Park. I was hurt. He didn’t want to dance with me, but he did want to dance with everyone else. When I looked down, my cup had only ice in it. So I made the conscious decision to drink away my sorrows. Johnny Walker Black and I huddled in the kitchen and had a good time together.
When someone asked if I wanted to go smoke on the balcony, I jumped at the opportunity. When I got out there, there was a small group including the guy who told Smiles how great I was.
This is where the night gets foggy. There was a guy who was late to the party who was fawning all over me from that point on. He told me I was gorgeous and paid me more compliments than I can remember. I vaguely remember pointing out to him that I was dating Smiles, but that didn’t stop him. He kept laying it on thick.
From that night, the next thing I remember was walking home behind him p*ssed because I was chasing after him. We weren’t walking together. I was walking about ten paces behind him.

Smiles woke me in the morning. I was naked, so I knew we had sex, and I had an uncomfortable moist feeling between my cheeks, so I knew I was the bottom. I thought back and could remember flashes of sex from the night before, but I couldn’t remember anything about leaving the party.
After I searched for my underwear and my dignity, neither of which I could find without assistance, I picked up my phone to check messages. Apparently in my drunken stupor, I wiped out my phone trying to get into it too many times with a failed password. It was back to factory settings.
I told Smiles, and he recounted the walk home. It involved me arguing profusely that we were headed in the wrong direction (Isn’t that ironic). It involved me tapping a French woman on the shoulder and welcoming her to the country. And it involved Smiles being annoyed by my antics.
“And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.
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After breakfast at the hotel, we got back on the road to my great-aunt’s house in Mount Vernon to drop off the keys and make our way home. It was surprisingly fast.
I was really disappointed I never got to chat much with the bride. It’d been years since I’d last seen her, and we only speak on the phone about once every four or five months.
During the whole ride, I had a lot of time to think. For me, this is deadly. When I have time to think, I crawl up into my own head and start digging around where I shouldn’t be digging — This is why I lead such an active lifestyle. Thinking depresses me.
A lot of thoughts about Smiles were going through my head. I was a little hurt and upset my advances were rejected in the morning. I also was very disappointed I didn’t get to grab brunch with him. Overall, I guess you could technically deem the weekend with him a success, but I still wasn’t thrilled. I was on unstable ground. I had no idea where I stood with him, and it was getting to me. As usual, I was over-thinking everything.
When we got back to Hoboken, we stopped at the grocery store. I decided to call Smiles to see if he wanted to come over that night. I wanted to make him a nice home-cooked meal since he never cooks for himself. We always go out for dinner or order take-out. He agreed to come by. I also had ulterior motives. I wanted make-up sex for Saturday morning when I was denied.
That evening, when he got off the PATH, I hopped on the motorcycle and rode down to pick him up. I was happy to finally get him out on the bike. He’d been on one before, so it wasn’t as exciting as the first time I’d taken motorcycle virgins on the bike, but it was nice to have him so close to me. We rode back to my apartment with his arms tightly around me. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I started us off with some artichokes while the fillets finished grilling and the rest of the meal finished cooking. I made more food than the two of us could possibly finish. When we had our fill, I cleaned up, and we made our way to my bedroom for the night. He asked if he’d be spending the night. “Of course you’re spending the night! Did you think I was going to kick you out now?” I responded. “I don’t know. Some people need their rest before Monday morning,” he said. I reminded him the size of the California king bed and assured him he wouldn’t disturb my slumber. If anything, he would enhance it.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I started getting frisky. After not getting any the morning before, I was even more geared up for some great sex. We undressed each other and jockeyed for position once again. I wasn’t making the same mistake again. I made sure I was in position to top this time. When I pulled out my night-stand drawer to get a condom and some lube, he made a comment about the large dinner and not sure it was a good idea. I surrendered, and we decided to use alternate methods. He climbed on top and used his hand behind his back. I was impressed with his ingenuity and his willingness to try alternate methods. However, it wasn’t quite enough for me. It felt great, but I couldn’t quite get over the final hump, as is my issue often.

We stopped and just enjoyed each other’s bodies laying next to each other before we both cleaned up and hopped into bed.
When I woke in the morning, I snuck quietly into my bathroom to shower so he could fall back asleep. If he wanted, I was going to let him sleep as long as he wished and just pull the door shut behind him. However, he had a few things he wanted to get to Monday morning, so he joined me on my morning commute.
We casually walked to the PATH and hopped on. When the time came for him to get off, we exchanged a quick kiss. A lot was going through my mind before that. I was a little afraid to do it because I knew all eyes would be on me as soon as he got off. However, I was the one who initiated it. It was subconscious, but I wasn’t going to let fear of others’ reactions rule my actions anymore. I didn’t care who knew I was gay anymore.
I rode the rest of the way to work not making eye contact with others. I wasn’t 100% comfortable in my own skin, but I was still growing with every day. Things were progressing nicely with Smiles, and they could only get better with added confidence.
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After Smiles left for New York to return the rental car with the two other girls from the screening, I sat around waiting for my roommate to wake up. When I got bored with that, I hopped in the shower, repacked my bags and laid everything out to get ready for the wedding. The night before, I promised her I wouldn’t wake her before 10:30. Obviously, all that didn’t take and hour and a half.
Finally, the time came to wake her. I sat impatiently while she got ready. She suggested we go eat and come back to get ready for the wedding. I agreed. However, when we couldn’t find a place to get brunch for about 45 minutes, we gave up and decided to go back to the house to get ready. We would grab breakfast at the first decent place we passed on the way to the wedding.
I was ready in about 10 minutes and had to wait another 40 minutes until she finished getting ready. WOMEN! This always makes me realize part of the reason why I’m gay! I’m sure my straight male readers can relate to me on this one!
We found a nice place to grab some great coffee and breakfast sandwiches. It was owned by a brother and sister pair far older than I. At one point, while talking to the gentleman in the booth behind us, they started to bicker. I put my head down and began to chuckle to myself. “Excuse me sir! I don’t think this is very funny,” the sister said towards me in a semi-joking tone. Now, I was laughing blatantly. “What’s so funny?” she asked. I explained my relationship with my older sister and how I could easily relate to the brother. I immediately was on her bad side, but I could tell deep down she really liked me — It was all an act. Everyone was eying us up ever since we walked in the door. I was wearing a dapper suit and my roommate had on a hot dress. There was no way to simply blend in now.

We finished our breakfast, we made our way for the door. The sister made a point of making eye contact with me and giving me a dirty look, but the brother also made a point to wish us a pleasant day.
Once we got back on the road, I was reminded once again how bad a driver my roommate is. She was all over the road and scaring the crap out of me. In fact, as we approached a cop on the side of the road, she veered off the road once again.
We got to the hotel and settled in. As we checked in, I noticed a guy in a tux (who I would later find to be the groom) who resembled me. I pointed him out to my roommate and she agreed. When the time came, we made our way to the church. We barely made it in time. We were actually running from the car.
After the wedding, my roommate and I walked downtown to take a few photos and buy some chocolates for my great-aunt. We had a lot of fun.
We made our way back to the hotel to hang out at the bar with my friends from college before we hopped on the bus to the reception. While closing my tab, the uncle of the bride asked me if I was a relative. I was a little perplexed since he was a relative. He should know if I was family. Then I realized there were two families coming together that day. I told him I swam with the bride in college. “Oh. You look a lot like the groom — Like you could be his brother or something,” said this man. I laughed and said I noticed the resemblance as well.
At the wedding reception, I really came to appreciate my roommate. As a gay man, I have limited resources for a wedding date since I wasn’t in a relationship. I planned to go with another female teammate who is still a great friend, but she went and got pregnant on me so she couldn’t travel. I floated the idea to my roommate to be my date months prior, and she jumped on the opportunity. She went to the same college as the bride and I, so I knew she’d fit right in.
I witnessed another friend from college sitting at our table arrive to the wedding and the reception stag. We had quasi dated in college for a very short period. The bride actually tried to set us up. She was the only single person at our table (I’m not exactly sure how you get a table with an uneven number). I felt really bad for her, but I was also very happy I didn’t show up stag myself.
I got myself nice and lubricated with about half a bottle of scotch and had a blast the rest of the night. The only time my roommate and I weren’t on the dance floor was to walk outside so we would stop sweating. Then, we’d make our way right back to the floor. The girl who came alone even came up to my roommate and made a comment about how lucky she was to have such a great wedding date (or so I was told later by my roommate). I had so much fun at this wedding – The most fun I’d had at any wedding I’d been to before. This is all for one reason. I had a great date! It makes all the difference. Who’d have thought taking your roommate to a wedding could be so much fun?
After the reception, we went back to the hotel bar to hang out some more. The problem was, all my friends left, and my roommate and I were exhausted. Half an hour passed, and the bride was nowhere in sight. While we waited, I took the opportunity to text Smiles: “Sooooo much fun! Missing you!” We were ready to give up and go to bed, but not before we raided the cereal bar for a late night snack in our room.
In the morning, we went down for the complimentary breakfast in hopes of seeing the bride again. I learned she wasn’t coming down because they had to get on with their honeymoon plans. I also learned I missed her last night at the bar, had I only stayed a little longer. I also received a text while we ate from Smiles. “Morning! Glad you guys had fun. I wish I could have spent the afternoon out there with you!” It was a very nice sentiment, and it brightened my day a little.
With that, we took coffee to go and got back on the road home…
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That time of year finally arrived — The end of summer. It’s always both a sad time and a happy time for me. I am a sun worshiper. I love the beach, and I love a good tan. It means the days get shorter, and the nights get longer, which isn’t necessary a bad thing when you have someone to share those nights with. Of course if you’ve read this blog at all, you know I don’t have that someone. However, it is a happy time for me because it means the annual Martha’s Vineyard trip many of my friends and I take has arrived. We always have a blast, and it’s one of the best crews I’ve ever traveled with. Everyone is mature and responsible, yet they still know how to have fun.
Since things ended with N, I kinda went on a whoring rampage. My time in OCMD was nothing short of scandalous. But, I was having fun. And, why shouldn’t I? I’m a single 27 year-old who is still finding himself in this new gay world. While everyone was having sex in high school and college, I was a good boy. I had my share of awkward hookups with women, but nothing successful enough to blossom into a relationship and rarely something worth revisiting again. Plus, the only way I would get better at sex was practice. So practice away I shall.
We hopped on the ferry to the island, and I fired up Grindr. I was beginning this trip with five other straight friends and ending it with ten. I knew I would crave some stimulation from other like-minded gentleman. Many of my friends were in relationships, some of which were tagging along on the vacation. I didn’t want to always be the third wheel. I made an effort to find someone to maybe sneak off on my own with.

Of course I found a few attractive men right off the bat, but pickings were actually quite slim. Many of the attractive ones happened to be on the mainland. One guy in particular messaged me. He was on the Vineyard covering the President’s vacation and had stayed on longer to cover Hurricane Irene as a photojournalist for CNN. He was staying in Vineyard Haven, where we were pulling into port around 9:00am. He could see my ferry coming in to port from his hotel window. He suggested I come by. I was definitely intrigued since he appeared to be quite an attractive man — Fit and handsome. I was also intrigued because originally he told me he was a CNN journalist in the President’s press corp. I thought it would make for an interesting story for the blog (This thing can be such a bad influence on my decision-making process sometimes!). He was a bit older, but I was on vacation, so my standards could also take a vacation. I explained to him I was just arriving on the island and would need to get settled in. Coming over for a quickie was not a solid option. That didn’t deter him. He certainly was persistent. He was waiting for a ferry, but was unsure which one he would get on due to the cancellations from the hurricane.
We arrived at our house and began unloading the car. We settled in and unpacked. I was originally under the impression we’d be heading directly to the beach, but everyone seemed to be lounging about. I inquired if I would have time to go for a run before we went anywhere. Everyone agreed they weren’t heading anywhere fast. I wasn’t really all that into meeting this guy, but at this point, there was no reason why I couldn’t. Am I proud of this? HELL NO! I was stupid and saw it as a challenge. So, I told the guy I was on my way.
In my haste, I left for the run shirtless. I hate running in a soaking wet t-shirt, so I left it behind. I wasn’t thinking ahead to the part where I would be walking into a hotel without a shirt on soaking wet from a run.
I texted him the whole way, almost getting hit by a car twice. He told me his room number and planned to leave the door ajar. He would be waiting for me in the bed. I was not really comfortable with this. I really felt like a gigolo, only I wasn’t getting paid. I explained my need for a towel when I arrived to help with the sweat from the 1.5 mile run, so he left one hanging on the door knob for me.
When I arrived, I walked right past the front desk straight to the elevator. When I go to the door, I entered the room. He was waiting on the bed for me. I removed my shoes and began to take off my shorts. He pulled me in, and we started to make out. I didn’t realize from his pictures he was quite the redhead. His entire body was freckles. He was my first ginger. Without getting into the details, we had our fun. SAFE fun. When all was said and done, I picked up the towel again and cleaned up as best I could. He couldn’t stop telling me how sexy I was and how great my body was. I don’t embarrass easily, but he was certainly making me start to blush. He told me if he didn’t get on the ferry that night, he would be calling upon me to go on another morning run the following day. I knew this wasn’t going to happen, but I humored him anyway. We exchanged a kiss, and I was back off on my run home.

Of course, the second I left for my run, everyone back at the house began speculating on my reason for leaving. I knew this was going to happen, and I could tell the second I walked back into the yard they had been discussing this. One my friends, a very loyal reader, immediately grilled me on how my run was. I saw right through her intentions, and I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of being right — Until now. I lied. I denied any lewd behavior on my part. I simply told them I was stuck on the other side of the drawbridge and had to wait for it to be lowered again. They bought it, and with that, I went in the house to shower and get ready for the day.
Ironically, later that night we had dinner on the beach in Menemsha. We stayed to watch the sunset and had a blast. We had no cellphone service out there because it is a remote part of the island. When I arrived home, I notice a message from the ginger mentioning seeing me on the beach that night. It was a little creepy knowing he didn’t take a ferry that day and saw me that evening. I was very grateful he didn’t walk up to me and say anything. And, of course, the following morning I had a request for a repeat, but there was no need to revisit that again.
I wasn’t on the island an hour, and I had already gotten myself into trouble. This was certainly going to be an interesting vacation…
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Out of the entire roster I built before I went away, I had the highest hopes for one in particular. His picture on Grindr was of his face. What a nice change from the torsos that scattered my screen. And, not just any face. This man was sexy. He had dreamy eyes and perfect lips. I couldn’t wait to meet this man in person.
When we first started chatting on Grindr, I favorited him. I noticed one night he was very far away and asked where he traveled to. I learned he lives in my old neck of the woods in Pa. He explained he lived out there, worked in the city, and one or two nights a week, he would buy a hotel room so he didn’t have to commute. I suggested we grab a drink sometime. “Def man. I’m game for that,” he responded. And with that he gave me his phone number.
We were unable to set up a time for drinks before I went on vacation. He was polite enough to hit me up while down there to see how I was doing. One night, while texting each other, he decided to pick up the phone and call me. I couldn’t answer because I was riding in the car with my family, but he left a very sweet message. He gained a lot of points in my book for calling that night! It meant a lot to me.
When I returned to Hoboken, we finally set up a night to grab a small bite and drinks together. I already liked his style. He suggested tapas because if the date didn’t go well, we weren’t stuck together He booked a hotel room for Wednesday night, and I picked a restaurant. He was my fifth date in four days.
The night of our date, he was running late. He apologized and explained this was standard protocol for him. I told him not to worry about it because I was usually the one running late. To kill time while I waited for him, I strolled through Eatily. When the time for out date was approaching, I walked to the restaurant to get us a table. When I arrived at Boqueria in the Flatiron District, there were about fifteen people standing in the rain waiting to go inside. I didn’t panic. I tried the backup restaurant, Sala 19, but they had a 45 minute to hour wait. I called (Let’s call him “Pillow” since his lips looked like two little pillows I couldn’t wait to smooch), and told him of the predicament. I also explained I would be trying to find a new place and would meet him on the street corner. I did some research and found two other places. The first couldn’t seat us for another two hours. The second, Aldea, had no wait. We met and shook hands, I suggested we go there since it was two blocks away. He agreed.
When we arrived at the restaurant, I almost suggested we leave. It had awful ambiance, and NO ONE was there. It already made the date feel awkward. They sat us upstairs, and we both ordered drinks. When my sangria arrived, it was clear, served in a Tom Collins glass and topped only with green grapes. I don’t think it was sangria, but it was good, so I drank it. We both struggled to find anything on the menu we liked. I am NOT a picky eater, but this menu was a challenge! I suggested we just leave after the first drink and find a bar. He said we should stay and we ordered the almonds and olives plate, as well as a shrimp appetizer. We talked about the possibility of hitting up a bar after dinner as well.
The conversation started off dry and forced. This date I had such high hopes for started off on the wrong foot. I didn’t know how to rescue it. I never realized how much the setting could ruin a date, however, we were able to find some common ground. We both worked in advertising. I was happy I never asked him about it before, since it gave us something to talk about to break the tension.
When we finished, they brought us chocolates, we paid and went back out into the rain. We started walking up Broadway towards my office and somewhat towards the hotel he was staying at. As we passed the Ace Hotel, I stopped him and asked if he still wanted to get another drink or did he need to get back to his hotel. I was giving him an out. He said he’d be down for another drink, so I suggest the Breslin at the Ace Hotel. I had been there many times and really enjoyed the vibe there. I was also glad he wanted to continue hanging out with me.
There were no seats available at the bar, so we found a nice plot of space in the corner to lean against the wall. Once we had our drinks, things got a lot more relaxed. I said, “We should have just come straight here. That place was awful!” He told me I shouldn’t worry about it. We stood there for another round. With every drink, the mood got lighter, and I became more attracted to him. After the second round, he asked if I minded if he have a cigarette. I said, “Only if you don’t mind giving me one.” We stepped out into the rain and found a doorway to huddle in to smoke. We talked some more and the body language was very positive. I debated if I should have kissed him right then and there. But I didn’t of course.
We went back inside and managed to find two stools. We sat facing each other and he began to lean in much more when we spoke. His body language was becoming more and more provocative with each sip. After that round, we both had another cigarette. When we returned this time, the only space available was at the bar. I ordered us another round of drinks and an order of fries considering we basically had olives for dinner.
I was having a good time with him. He was charming, had a good job, family oriented, very good-looking, mature, etc. It was about time I finally had a good date. The whole date, all I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss him. Around 11:30pm, we finished our drinks and closed out the tab. We spent the last four hours together. I wasn’t sure we’d make it past the first forty minutes when we stepped into the first restaurant.
I told him I would walk him to his hotel since it wasn’t far from my office, and I had to return there to get my things. When we got to the front of the hotel, I expressed to him how much I enjoyed the night first verbally, and then physically. I leaned in for a kiss and got exactly what I was hoping for all night. I pulled back and said, “And a good kisser too. It’s a shame I waited til the end of the date for that!” With that, we started kissing and embracing more while the doorman stood watching us. Finally, we both pulled back. As I started to walk away, I turned back and said, “We do this again? Soon!?” He nodded in agreement.
I walked away with the biggest smile on my face. What started out bad, ended really well. I couldn’t have been happier. On my way home, I texted him telling him: “I had a great time with you tonight!” He responded, “More to be had. I had a great time and now that we met, I can loosen up a bit.” Then we got into the conversation of the compatibility of our astrological signs. Then he said, “Yea. I wanted to bring you up, but it’s a first date. I try to be reserved. LOL Did I want to? No. But, I was good.”
I was thrilled. This meant he was really attracted to me and wanted to start something real, not just a hookup. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, nor did I want to put all my eggs in one basket, so I didn’t toss the roster out just yet. But, I certainly had a front-runner.
That weekend, I texted him a few times, but got no response. I wasn’t thrilled with that sign. I questioned if it was just the alcohol talking after our first date, but I didn’t panic. I would see if we could meet during the week again when Monday rolled around…
Ace Hotel, Aldea, ambiance, astrological signs, astrology, Boqueria, Breslin, Coming Out, Date, Dating, dinner, Eatily, embracing, Flatiron District, Friendship, Gay, Gay dating, grindr, Homosexual, Hooking Up, hotel, kiss, kissing, lips, love, New York, New York City, olives and almonds, relationship, running late, Sala 19, sangria, Sex, sexting, shrimp, texting, Tom Collins
Day three of my dating marathon arrived and I still had no prospects for second dates. I was definitely widdling down the roster, but I wasn’t finding the quality I was hoping to find. That Tuesday, I planned a date with one of the guys who was particularly interested in me when I was texting him from Ocean City, Maryland. We started chatting on Grindr before I left for vacation, and we continued to do so when I returned.
We agreed to meet up for a bite following work. He worked as a concierge at a hotel near my office, so we picked something somewhat local to both of us. When work ran over for me, he decided to run a few errands. He hit up the gym and then moved onto a manicure. Already I was worried he was going to be yet another flamboyant ‘mo, but I would give him the benefit of a doubt.
After chasing him around to different locations, we finally met on the street corner. He was not what I was expecting. His pictures on Grindr portrayed him as a mysterious and sexy tattooed guy, but in reality, he looked kinda dorky. I knew immediately this was not going anywhere. If I was smart, I would have suggested a pub right then and there and made it a one drink date, but I wasn’t quick enough. I let him decide on the location. He chose Bare Burger on the East Side.
We sat at a table in the restaurant and ordered our beers while we decided what we wanted to eat. The conversation mainly started with work and ended with work. It was all he knew to talk about. I learned about all the hotels he’s worked at and all the perks he gets. I heard about the free Broadway shows he left half way through because Broadway wasn’t quite his thing. Once again, someone was sitting in front of me trying to impress me instead of just being real. I don’t just want to know what your job can do for my social life. He also talked about people getting starstruck in his line of business, but then proceeded to name all the famous people he’s hung out with. He was a walking contradiction. On top of this, he lived on the opposite side of the island we like to call Manhattan. Astoria, Queens would be a very long ride from Hoboken, NJ.
I couldn’t wait for the date to be over. When he excused himself to go to the bathroom, I flagged down the waitress and asked her to bring us the check. I gazed out the window people watching hoping for this date to end like the ripping off of a band aid. The only saving grace was how tasty the food was.
When he came back, we split the bill and started to walk towards the PATH/his subway. When we got to a crossroads in which we were heading in different directions, I said goodbye with a hug. He suggested we go out again. I blankly said, “Yea. We could do that.”
Just before getting to the PATH, I received a text from him saying, “Get home safe! It was nice meeting you!… shorty ;)” He was taller than me by a few inches, but did he really just call me shorty? “I just responded back with a “likewise.” The next day, I received the followup text: “How’s it going?” Of course, I didn’t respond. And that was the end of the concierge. NEXT!…
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