Posts Tagged meaningless sex

Southern Hospitality

After my lukewarm date with the doctor, I was ready to get back out there in search for a man.

I’m happy to report, which I’m sure some of you may have suspected otherwise, I was doing a great job of staying off Grindr. Granted, it was a short period of time, but I was thoroughly proud of myself. I felt like I’d joined GA. Every day not having meaningless sex was another day of Grindr sobriety.

Tuesday after work, I arranged another date with Southern Drawl. The last date was a bit crazy. Footsie under the table. Shenanigans in the bathroom. I was curious if he’d be able to behave this time or would he be looking for another quick trip to the bathroom.

We texted during the day to lock things down. I proposed The Breslin. I’d always loved their food, their drinks and their ambiance. He shot the idea down because he said the place was always full of hipsters. I had always been a fan of Sala 19 in the Flatiron District, so I proposed we go there for dinner. It worked out well because it was halfway between our offices. He agreed.

I had to wait at work for him to finish. When he did, I made my way south to meet him. I met him on the street corner, and we walked to the restaurant.

Dinner was very nice. He was well-behaved, and the conversation was good. I told him about my allergist appointment, and he told me about his day. We talked frankly about our last date. We discussed what went on. I learned he’d never done anything like that before. I was also learning about the guys he’d dated since living in New York City. When we originally spoke on the phone, I was under the impression he was new to the gay world. I thought he’d never really dated anyone before. Now, I was learning about all the guys he dated in NYC, as well as the guy he dated through college that he said I so strongly reminded him of and resembled. It was a bit unsettling.

In the middle of dinner, he told me he’d ended things with the guy he was seeing. He explained they’d only been seeing each other for two weeks, and things were never that strong. When I probed him to ask if he left the other guy because he met me or if he did it because he wasn’t satisfied with the previous guy, he told me it was the latter, but part of it was also due to meeting me. A big red flag went off in my head. Would he leave me for a better model?

I still wasn’t sure about him. I liked talking to him. I liked being with him. He was smart. He was nice. He wasn’t flamboyant, however, I wondered if maybe he was too “straight.” He was a bit homophobic. I’m not the most open about my sexuality. I’m not out to everyone at work. I don’t openly advertise my sexuality. However, if he wasn’t comfortable with himself, how could we be comfortable with each other. I couldn’t be sure about him. Was he right for me? I had no idea. Only more time could tell. I was keeping a distance as we moved forward. We had a connection, but was it strong enough to last? Was it what I wanted?

In our conversations, his southern entitlement shined through. It was an incredible turnoff. Where was the southern charm I’d seen so many times in movies. When I think of the ideal man, I think of Matthew McConaughey. He definitely has an ego and self-confidence, but he also exudes charm and sexuality. His confidence is not in your face, and he seems down-to-earth. Southern Drawl fit the other Hollywood archetype — The Southern plantation owner. He had an air or superiority that was hard to swallow. Many times, he laughed off these comments, making them seem like a joke, but I wondered if there was really something deep down that was more genuine. I wasn’t ready to date a snob. That $hit wouldn’t fly with me. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, and I’d already started calling him on it.

When we finished eating, we split the bill and walked north to the PATH station. I said goodbye to him ont he street with barely a hug. He was uncomfortable exchanging a kiss with me in front of a city of strangers. I wasn’t thrilled by that.

On my ride home, I questioned why I was continuing to see Southern Drawl. He was definitely interested in me, and I was still intrigued by him. I wasn’t ready to write him off just yet, but I didn’t see a lot of promise or potential. I would continue to see other men and continue to see him until I was ready to make a definitive decision.

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Dr. Nice

Since ending my slew of hookups, I decided to put full effort behind building up a new roster of guys. This time it would be for meaningful dates, not meaningless sex.

Over the course of a month or so, I corresponded with a guy on adam4adam.com. He seemed like a really nice guy — Almost too nice. But, what the hell? I hadn’t done the nice guy thing yet, so why not give it a shot?

He wasn’t the most attractive guy on the site, but he certainly wasn’t unattractive. I also like him because he seemed eager to meet me. I hit him up and asked if he had time to meet.

We agreed to meet up for drinks and maybe a bite on Friday after work. This was my first non-half-day Friday in two months, so it wasn’t a hassle to schedule something that evening. I wouldn’t need to commute back into the city for the date. He lived on the Upper West Side, so we agreed on a spot at the northern end of Hell’s Kitchen.

I arrived at the bar before him and waited for him to arrive. When he did, we decided the bar was a little packed to be able to hold a conversation. We crossed the street and sat outside a Mexican bar/restaurant.

We ordered chips and guacamole and beers and chatted a bit. I asked him to remind me what he did again. I went into the date very blind. I should have at least looked back over his messages on a4a, but I had a hard enough time scheduling the date in the first place. Maybe I wasn’t putting a full effort into finding a guy this time around after all.

He explained he was working his way towards becoming an anesthesiologist. I was very impressed, but a big red flag popped up in the back of my head. I have never been thrilled with the idea of dating a doctor because they don’t keep regular hours, which makes it difficult to spend time together or plan getaways. I began to ask about his schedule and what he does with his time off.

I was very surprised to hear how much free time he has. He talked about hiking trips not only in upstate New York, but also in other countries. He explained he had mainly regular hours with the occasional outlier.

The conversation started getting more relaxed, and we were really finding common ground. I kinda thought about this guy as a wildcard, but he was really surprising me. There was still something holding me back. I was realizing that I wasn’t truly an equal opportunity dater. I was actually quite shallow. I saw this guy in front of me with a lot of things in common with myself, but I just wasn’t physically attracted to him. He was kinda cute in his own way, but it just wasn’t doing it for me. He was a lot shorter than me as well.

As we chatted, I thought in the back of my head how great he would be as a friend, but that’s a tough transition when you’ve asked someone out on a date. How do you tell them you just want to be their friend? That says, “You’re fun to hang out with, and we can do a lot of things together. But, I just don’t want to sleep with you because I don’t find you attractive.” Not the nicest impression to make on someone.

When we finished our beers and the temperature dropped below a comfortable level to remain sitting outside in short-sleeved shirts, we parted ways. It didn’t end with a hug or a kiss. We simply just said goodbye and went our separate ways. I felt a little guilty, and I wasn’t ready to cut him from the roster, so I sent a followup text: “Very nice meeting you tonight.” He responded with the same sentiments and suggested we find time to meet up again. I agreed. In the end we never communicated again. What is meant to be will be, and what isn’t, won’t.

After saying goodbye to him, I went on with the rest of my night — Another date I was meeting down the street…

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Déjà vu

Thursday night, after my usual volleyball game, I grabbed my roommates and took them to my favorite local watering hole. It was going to be the perfect drama-free night I needed. We were gonna have fun! I invited N, but he had plans to go to dinner with friends and said he had to be at work at 6am.

However, we arrived at the bar only to find it DEAD. No one was out. We didn’t let that get us down. I took the opportunity to introduce the new roommates to all the bartenders, bouncers and even the manager. I went to this bar every weekend, and they treated me like family. I wanted my roommates to be shown the same love. The bartenders poured us drinks all night, and we all got properly drunk. We were also dancing up a storm with the five other people in the bar.

All night long, I was getting texts from Mr. Grindr. He was out and wanted to know what I was up to. Turned out, he was at the bar next door. I told him to come by, but he didn’t. When it was about closing time, I told him to come over to my apartment. He was a little weirded out because I was walking with my roommates, but I told him they were cool. He met us when we were halfway to the apartment. I hung back from the roommates and chatted him up on the walk home. He wanted to know why I wasn’t calling to hang out. I said the same thing back to him. If he wanted to hang out, he could just as easily pick up the phone and call me. I wasn’t all that thrilled about hanging out with him, but I wasn’t opposed to exploring the benefits of being friends.

When we got back to my room, of course the conversation started to revolve around N because he was texting him once again while he laid in my bed. For some reason, Mr. Grindr felt the need to show me some of the texts N was sending. One jumped at me. It said “baby boy” in it. Another little piece of my heart broke at that moment because that was something N called me all the time. I thought it was a term of affection he used towards me, but apparently it also went for guys he was trying to have sex with. Looks like I was simply one of those guys after all. When Mr. Grindr didn’t respond to the texts, N responded, “Well. Have fun with whoever you’re with.” Mr. Grindr suggested a threesome at this point. “If you think that’s happening, you’re nuts!” I responded.

Mr. Grindr told me he felt weird again because he had been talking to N before he even met me. Once again, I imagined they would have hooked up sooner if both weren’t in the closet to their roommates.

We started hooking up and things got hot. We had sex multiple times that night. At one point, he tried to insert himself with great force without any preparation. I’m not a fan of being a bottom to begin with, but this was unbearable. I nearly flung him off the bed and ran into the bathroom to make sure I was alright. That certainly was not going to happen again. I decided right then and there, that was going to be a prize possession only a special few would receive in the future.

In between sessions, we had a conversation about him staying or leaving for the night. We also somehow got on the topic of his parents being in the middle of a divorce and the issues it was bringing up for him. He was drunk, but the conversation was getting heavy beyond my comfort zone. He also mentioned something to the effect of him wanting to invite me to his brother’s wedding in the coming week. I quickly changed the subject because that was NOT going to happen, and I had no idea where that came from. We ended up both falling asleep and him spending the night. He certainly liked to cuddle and spoon. The next morning, he woke up and had to rush home to get ready for work. I texted him after he left, mentioning us grabbing a drink a the bar sometime, and he agreed. This was the last time I saw him, and I don’t plan to see him again. He carried a lot of baggage I didn’t want to get into.

I hopped on Grindr to see who messaged me overnight. I noticed N was signed on and only a few feet away. So much for being at work at 6am. He didn’t owe me an explanation, but he was starting to really show the pattern of a pathological liar. I don’t know why he even felt the need to lie. He could have said, “I don’t feel like going to the bar tonight, but thanks.” I would still try to be his good friend, but trust would always be an issue between us.

Ironically, I found solace through this whole breakup in a Beyoncé song. I found the lyrics exceptionally poignant. If you’ve gone through a recent breakup, I highly suggest listening to it.

The next day I felt myself feeling empty from my recreational sex. I spent 26 years masturbating. It was nice to have sex on demand, but it was emotionless and empty. I didn’t like who I was becoming. I needed to change. I decided then and there I wanted to find a boyfriend, and I needed to stop trying to fill the void in my life with meaningless sex.

That weekend, many of my friends went away. N went down to the Jersey Shore, and I was jealous. I was unhappy and lonely. I needed to learn how to be alone again. That night, I went to bed and had many dreams about men and Grindr. This proved it was consuming my life. I needed to cut back, or I would become one of the gay men I despise so much…

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