Posts Tagged HR
This is a follow-up post to the earlier “Round 2” post…
HR and I were finally able to set a time to go on a second date.
This time, we agreed to go to Industry, a popular gay club in Hell’s Kitchen, after work. I had never been before, but this was happy hour on a Monday, so my fear of gay clubs was a little easier to get over.
I walked uptown to his office and waited for him to finish his workday. When he came down, I noticed he obviously changed his clothes. He wore a suit to work every day, and today, he was wearing very tight brown pants and a polo shirt. He looked gayer than a $2 bill. Yes, I know how bad that sounds.
Thinking back, I think it was then I realized we weren’t a match. Maybe that makes me shallow, but I’m really more into masculine guys. However, I still didn’t completely write him off.
We got our drinks and found a comfortable couch to relax on in the back of the bar. We talked casually, facing each other. I was trying to convey a more flirtatious body language. I could tell he was doing the same. After some time passed, I placed my hand on his leg when talking to show my interest.
Out of the blue, one of the drag performers began practicing “her” sets. Drag queens make me feel very uncomfortable, but I’m cool with them as long as they don’t try to interact with me. I don’t need to be a part of the show. When I thought it couldn’t get more awkward, the drag queen came on in nothing but a feather boa barely covering the necessary parts. HR and I discussed drag queens and our feelings about them. I respect them and their choice. I admire their confidence in themselves and their apathy towards others’ judgement.
We talked more, but then the night began to get a lot more physical. At one point, I just went in for the kill. We were facing each other, and I took the opportunity to kiss him. After our missed opportunity to kiss last time, I decided one of us needed to make a move. I usually never have the courage to do so, but tonight, I was properly lubricated and just went for it.
We spent a majority of the rest of the night kissing and cuddling. He had his hand in the top of my polo and was rubbing my chest. He expressed how much he enjoyed it, and said, “Even if you tell me to stop, I don’t think I will. Your chest feels too good.” I was enjoying it, so he had no complaints from me.
Before we knew it, it was 11:30. I couldn’t believe how late it was, and I needed to get home. He both walked over to 9th Avenue, kissed, said goodnight and went our separate ways.
I expressed how good of a time I had that evening, and we talked about seeing each other again…Follow @onegayatatime
MonGAY night happy hour…
After my first failed a4a date, I was a little leary. However, I was also excited, because if I could deal with that awkward situation with such poise, I felt I could deal with whatever else was thrown at me.
I’d been talking to “HR” for quite a while. We started on a4a, and quickly exchanged numbers. We texted periodically and tried to set up a date, but it always seemed to conflict with one of our schedules. He was out of town on business, but when he came back I’d have to go away.
One Saturday, he went up to Providence to see Sara Bareilles in concert, and we texted for the majority of the day. By the time he was on the train coming home, we finally set up a date for the following Monday. I suggested Arriba Arriba for margaritas, and he quickly agreed, and we set a time.
I got there before him, so I carefully selected a two-top facing the door in the corner of the restaurant for privacy. When he came through the door, he found me immediately. After apologizing profusely for being late, and for bringing his briefcase and laundry with him (since he was doing so much business traveling), we dug into a bowl of guacamole and frozen margaritas.
The conversation began awkwardly, but we quickly became much more comfortable with each other. We talked about work for a bit, and then moved the discussion to stories from adam4adam.com and Grindr. He had his horror stories, and I was beginning to build up quite the portfolio of outlandish responses from men.
In the middle of the date, I really started sizing him up. He was a really nice guy, and he definitely had a very stable and successful job in human resources. I was also intrigued by his musical background. I never really felt strong chemistry, but he was worthy of getting to know better. We had some good laughs and continued the conversation for three hours. By then end of the date, I was staring at his lips while he spoke wondering what they felt like. I couldn’t wait to experience them with at least a goodnight kiss. Finally, I asked if he wanted to get out of there. He was heading uptown, and I was walking down to Port Authority to catch a late bus home. We said our goodbyes a block from the restaurant.
Goodbyes have always been my biggest weakness. I’m terrible at making the first move. I didn’t know how well the date went. I wasn’t sure if he was interested or just polite. So when the time came, we hugged, and I awkwardly said, “I’ll be in touch.” He looked at me puzzled, and I immediately realized what I did. I recovered quickly by saying, “Yea… I’ll have my people contact your people.” We had a quick laugh, and he hopped in a cab.
While walking to the bus, I decided to text him. “So I’m going to break dating 101 rules since that’s my style and text you right now, but I had a great time tonight!”
Coincidently, he texted me at the very same moment, “It was seriously so great to meet you! In the spirit of being honest, I found you to be incredibly sexy and attractive but was trying to behave.”
Immediately, a wave of disappointment ran across my body. Why can’t I ever muster the nerve to go in for the kiss? The only reason I was able to plant one on Boston in Miami was because I was properly lubricated. So, I immediately responded with a text, “Next time lay one on me.. I get a bit shy… Only regret of the night was not kissing you goodnight…”
To which he responded, “Please. I’m about to turn this cab around and come to port authority. Now I know for next time (and there better be a next time).”
But that’s another post for another day…