Posts Tagged party
An Affair to Remember
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Single Edition on February 11, 2013
Good Things Do Come in Small Packages!
Valentine’s Day will be upon us before we know it. I myself have never celebrated Valentine’s Day. I haven’t much had the chance to be honest. I’ve only ever been in a one relationship that spanned over the “greeting card holiday,” but when that day came, I was traveling domestically for work.
As we close in on V-Day, I thought it would be nice to shine a light on some of NYC’s finest establishments. This weekend I had the pleasure of attending Sweets in the City, an event hosted by Single Edition. Originally planned as a bus tour of some of Big Apple’s most romantic locations, the recent blizzard forced plans to be altered. Instead, Single Edition scrambled to gather all these great NYC treasures in one place.
Certainly when I say cupcakes and New York City in the same breath, most think Magnolia’s. I’m here to change that. The first confectionary I’d like to share with you is Sprinkles Cupcakes. Located near Bloomingdale’s between 60th & 61st streets, this purveyor of pure, delicious, uncomplicated, scratch-based cupcakes has blown me away.
The days of sharing a late-night romantic slice of pie at a diner have gone by the wayside. And, since the cupcake craze hit the scene, I personally (and unsuccessfully) have been trying to supplant it with a pie craze. After my first bite into a Sprinkles cupcake, my struggle ended and I was officially onboard.
Sprinkles has struck the perfect balance of cake and icing ratio. Most cupcake peddlers botch this entirely, forcing me to scrape half-a-pound of icing off my dessert before biting into it. Sprinkles has mastered this art, and made me reevaluate my love-hate relationship with cake’s red-headed stepchild. But enough about my cupcake hang-ups!
I got to sample Sprinkles’ decadent red velvet. Much to my delight, I didn’t have to sink my teeth in to find out what flavor awaited me. They’ve devised a brilliant color-coded system of dots adorning the cupcakes, revealing the flavors hidden within. Although not all flavors are available every day, they’ve developed a calendar telling you when your favorite flavors will be available.
When I got home from the event, I plopped down on the couch for a romantic evening and split the cupcake in half. The portion size was perfect for sharing, although truth be told, it was so sinfully good that my better half nearly missed out on his half. The cake was incredibly moist and scrumptious, the icing was perfection, and my teeth didn’t ache from sugar overload.
On top of their first-class cupcakes, Sprinkles offers great service as well. No matter the occasion, they can accommodate — weddings, parties, gifts for all occasions, last-minute orders, deliveries and more. They’ll even print your logo, monogram or any graphic on a sugar decoration. The pleasant surprises didn’t end there. When discarding evidence of my indulgence, I was also pleased to see my treat was packaged in a tiny, recyclable and aesthetically simple brown box. Who doesn’t love an eco-friendly, green company these days.
Disappointed you can’t experience this decadence because you don’t live in New York City? — Not to worry. They are baking cupcakes specially for you in Chicago, Washington DC, Dallas, Houston, La Jolla, Newport Beach, Palo Alto, Scottsdale and their flagship store in Beverly Hills. You too can find true love in the bottom of a small brown box.
So this Valentine’s Day, show that special someone just how much they mean to you with one of NYC’s true treasures — Sprinkles cupcakes.
Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 8, 2012
It had arrived. Although this would be my third year “participating,” I was legitimately scared. I wasn’t sure why it was so scary, but honestly, I was petrified for so many reasons.
My first interaction with Pride Weekend was a mistake. I was making my way to Governor’s Island for a polo match with my family when we found ourselves “stuck” in the parade route. The following year was the first year I was out when the weekend came around. It wasn’t pleasant as I witnessed my relationship crumble before my eyes like an out-of-body experience. I missed the parade that year, but I got a sampling of the other aspects of the festivities.
My fear was grounded mainly in the unknown. While I am a gay man, I do not participate in the typical gay culture. I’ve never been a big fan of gay clubs and what goes on there. I come from a background of a traditional relationship. In the gay world, that is like finding a diamond in the rough. The clubs seem to be the antithesis of this. They are a hot-bed of drugs, promiscuity and raunchy behavior. I know all gay men who go to bars don’t fit into this stereotype, but this stereotype is founded in truth. While I’ve been to a handful of gay clubs, and my comfort level was rising, I still had no idea what to expect. Never before had I been to a circuit party. I was venturing into the abyss, and this caused me incredible anxiety.
While I have learned to let go of the men in my past, I still carry the scars of my relationship with them. They’ve all hurt or used me in some way, shape or form. My biggest fear in life is being alone, and this fear is fed by thoughts of cheating, which is birthed from my baggage. The idea of CK with another man broke my heart. I had clear definitions of cheating, but there were worse things floating through my imagination — Like cheating in a form I feel is unfaithful, but the offender does not.
My relationship with CK was building a great foundation, however, the cement was still wet. We were only dating two months and ten days — Very young for any relationship. In the first month, I had strong suspicions I wasn’t the only man entering his bed. Things didn’t always line up and some of the clear indications were there, however, our relationship was still just forming. I knew there would be a transition period. While he told me he was only interested in me, and I was the only man entering his bed, I was aware how we met. I was also aware of his intentions before we even met through his first major slip-up on Grindr. I couldn’t expect monogamy from the first night — That wasn’t realistic.
While I was fairly understanding and looked the other way early on, I was not going to tolerate infidelity as our relationship progressed and strengthened. For starters, my heart wouldn’t be able to handle the pain, and lastly, it wasn’t safe for my health. I needed to trust him to be faithful. Outside the heartbreak, frankly, we were having unprotected sex. We’d been tested, but there are no guarantees. I trusted him with my life, literally, and if he was sleeping with other men, he was treating my life carelessly.
I sincerely had a feeling his intentions had evolved, but I couldn’t be sure how he would react when faced with temptation. I hoped I was the only man for him. As a result, I was petrified for the life of our relationship. I’d watched my relationship with N publicly combust the previous year, and I didn’t want a repeat.
I’m sure many of you reading think I am overreacting. It’s just a party… It’s just a parade… It’s just a weekend… Well, not to me. To me, it was a litmus test for the strength of my love for CK. I didn’t want that love to be tested, and I didn’t want to have to make a decision that could end my relationship with CK. He was my Superman. He was my world. If I lost him, my world would come crumbling down.
We had plans to go to a huge party at XL Friday night, Matinée circuit party Saturday, and the parade Sunday afternoon. I was venturing into this unknown abyss with faith and hope I could persevere. The thought of CK dropping X and losing control of his inhibitions with some other guy caused me great pain and panic attacks. The idea of another man’s hand groping his package caused me panic attacks. Picturing him dancing shirtless against another shirtless man caused me panic attacks. Every time these scenarios and many others entered my brain, my heart rate would increase drastically, I would start to sweat, and I would get light-headed.
All this added up to me being petrified and frustrated. When I asked CK what clothes I should pack to bring to his apartment for the weekend, and I didn’t get any cooperation or help. It all became overwhelming. To begin with, this wasn’t something I was looking forward to, and his lack of cooperation made me lose my sh*t. “Okay Babe. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Have fun tonight!” I said on the verge of tears as I hung up the phone on him.
I think that was the wake-up call CK needed. I don’t think he fully understood how much anxiety this all created for me. I voiced my frustrations for weeks leading up to Pride Weekend. I told him I was going out of my comfort zone, but I was willing to do it as long as I got some hand-holding. I needed help to get over this. It was just another fun weekend for him, but it was a big deal to me.
After a few minutes, he called me back. We discussed things a little more rationally, and CK’s tone changed. He finally realized I was struggling and tossed out the life-preserver. Now that I knew I had him in my corner, I was a little more relaxed, however, I still wasn’t completely comfortable. It was going to be a long, stressful and exhausting weekend both physically and emotionally. I bit down then and there, and braced for impact as I packed my bag and walked out the door.
Spring Fling
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 8, 2012
SPRING! The first day of Spring finally arrived. We didn’t have a very rough winter, but I was certainly ready for spring. I had no work obligation, so I rang in the new season from the comfort of my bed watching TV.
About 1:00 am, I got a booty call. There was a guy I had been in touch with for over a year and never met. He was a very sexy Hispanic man who it seems swam in the same circle as me. This wasn’t just any random booty call, however. He was over at a friend’s place, and they were looking to have some fun.
They didn’t want to have a threesome in the sense I’d recently been in. They were more looking to watch porn and jerk together with some light fun. Things got particularly uncomfortable when he asked if I party. I am NOT into drugs mixed with sex. It’s not my thing. I was pretty clear about this. I don’t feel comfortable around it at all. I told them if partying was in, I was out. They were fine with that. They didn’t think I was coming, but in the end I agreed to come by.
I quietly snuck out of my apartment and hopped on the motorcycle. I made my way in the chill of the night over to Jersey City where his friend lived. When I got there, I couldn’t figure out where to enter the building. I finally found it when the Hispanic guy came down to meet me. I finally got to meet him in person. He was hot and was an impressive presence. He was well-built and very tall. I shook his hand and rode the elevator up with him.
When we entered the apartment, I was greeted by a gorgeous dog. It was the Hispanic guy’s dog, and he put him in the bedroom so he wouldn’t be a bother. It was a gorgeous apartment. The owner was sprawled on the couch in front of the porn playing on the big screen TV. I was introduced and removed my jacket. I was encouraged to make myself comfortable. All three of us began to strip. I wasn’t attracted to the owner of the apartment at all. He wasn’t attractive, and he had a very distant look in his eyes. He kinda creeped me out. I had my suspicions he had already partied. He had a beer in his hand, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the culprit.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. The three of us laid on the couch watching porn together exciting ourselves. Then the kissing began. I started kissing the hot one while the ugly one started kissing all over my body and began orally pleasuring me. He was constantly going deeper to the point of making himself violently gag. I was petrified he was going to vomit in my lap. I tried to concentrate on the hot one. He was very normal and enjoying himself.
The ugly guy was almost like a dog on me. He kept climbing on me, and I really wanted him to go away. The Hispanic guy kept making comments about him and to him. He, however, wasn’t speaking at all, only grunting. “She’s a big old bottom,” the Hispanic said. I fully understood that by him nudging his hairy a$$ toward me constantly, but I was not interested. He wanted me to penetrate him, but I was not going anywhere near that, even with a condom on. I was cordial to him, but I never purposely engaged him in any way. He kept getting in the way of me enjoying time with the hot one, whimpering by my face waiting to suck on my mouth.
A few times I contemplated leaving. I never did anything I wasn’t comfortable with, but I wasn’t really enjoying myself. Periodically, the porn would freeze to buffer, and the “dog” would have to fix it. It was a nice reprieve from him being all over me.
After some time, the hot one decided it was time for him to head home. He needed to get the real dog back and settle in for the night. If he wasn’t staying, neither was I. I stood and told them I was heading out as well. I started to get dressed. The ugly dog on the couch was confused by all this and still in a haze. The Hispanic guy asked if the other guy could give him a ride home. After some confusion, he agreed. I was very happy I wasn’t in that car. I wasn’t sure he’d be ok to drive. I waited for the other two to finish getting ready and dressed to head out.
The Hispanic with the dog told us he needed to go downstairs to let the dog relieve itself. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being left in the apartment with just him. I stood by the door, and the other guy got ready quickly. We ended up all riding down in the elevator together. When we got downstairs, we all said goodbye. I hopped back on the motorcycle, sped home and hopped in the shower.
When I got back to my apartment, I got a text from the Hispanic guy. “Sorry. I think my friend was into you. I felt kinda out-of-place. LOL.” I responded back after I got out of the shower, “Hey dude. Great body. Seem fun. No offense, but your friend isn’t really my speed. Sorry. Not sure if you had fun with me, but feel free to hit me up sometime.” That’s when I got the full story between the two of them: “Him and I hooked up when we first met and no more after that. Sorry if I came off rude. I had fun with you. Definitely. But, he was trying to have you for himself. I got the hint. He’s my bud, so I was trying not to f*ck it up. I wasn’t sure if you were into him or not. You were kissing each other. Plus I had my pup with me.” I explained to him the confusion: “I was more just letting him play. Didn’t want anyone to feel left out. LOL. I was trying to get more of you ;)” He told me, “I would chill again whenever.” I quickly responded, “Cool dude. You have my number. Anytime. Trying to go on a Grindr diet… Obviously failed tonight.” He finally added, “It’s cool. Had fun. Finish some other time. ;)” With that, I hopped into bed.
I finished myself off and passed out. I didn’t set an alarm since I had nothing to wake up for early in the morning. This post should have been titled I have no willpower. Hopefully the next day I would be able to stick to my new diet.
Follow @onegayatatimeA Perfect Weekend
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 20, 2012
PR and I had a lovely dinner and topped out night off with a scary movie marathon. When we were sufficiently scared and tired, we went to bed.
I purposely turned off my alarm that night because there was nothing pressing to wake up for in the morning. We could sleep in and enjoy each other’s company in my uber comfortable bed.
I liked sleeping with PR. We snuggled and cuddled before finally dozing off. He didn’t wake me throughout the night with tossing and turning like so many others do. We slept well together. Of course, in the morning, we shared more than just cuddling or spooning. There was still plenty of snuggling, but things escalated to a new level with the discovery of his matching morning libido. We didn’t have “sex,” as in we didn’t have penetration, but we did just about everything else.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. While our mouths went wild exploring every inch of each other’s bodies while our hands enjoyed the touch of skin in symphony. I was constantly lingering at his back door as well. I was testing his limits. I wanted to see how comfortable he was with me back there.
He even mentioned his interest in bottoming for me, but it wasn’t going to happen immediately. He needed to warm up to it first; rightfully so, considering it’d been years since someone penetrated him. I was willing to be patient. I was just concerned that it would happen at all. His willingness to play ball in down the road was reassuring.
It was late when we finally motivated ourselves to get out of bed. I think it was our grumbling stomachs that finally inspired us to make moves. I cooked us another breakfast while he sat on the island chatting with me. I was getting used to having him around, and I liked it. He was a very caring and sweet guy — A hopeless romantic much like myself.
After we ate breakfast, we cuddled a lot on the couch. I was still horny from the morning romp and started to get frisky, pulling down his shorts and exposing his ass. He was getting a little bashful since we were in front of my apartment widows with the street below, but chances are no one was able to see him. At one point, I even completely removed his shorts. It was cute watching his bashful squirm. I was starting to get off on it.
We decided to go to the gym, so we finally picked ourselves up off the couch and went to the bedroom to get ready for the day (now that it was about 3:00). Of course we didn’t simply get changed and head to the gym. We got frisky once again as I pulled him onto the bed. He certainly wasn’t complaining.
My motivation to have bigger biceps finally overtook my sexual desires, and I suggested we finally get ready for the gym. He went home to change, and I got dressed. He was starting to take a long time, so I told him I’d just see him there — I was on my way.
I nearly finished my workout before he arrived. It was slightly awkward cause I wanted to kiss him when I saw him, but I didn’t want to make a scene. We had plans to go to a Super Bowl party together, so I told him I was going to head home to shower and get ready. I implored him not to doddle since I didn’t want to arrive at the party after the start of the game. He assured me he’d be ready in time.
Once again, he was running behind, but after hopping in a cab, we arrived at the party just in time for kickoff. A lot of my friends were there, so I introduced him to everyone. This was going to be a test. He would he interact with my friends? Would he be outgoing? Would they like him? I care a lot about what my friends think of the guy I’m dating. I was trying out a new strategy this time around. I was introducing him to them much sooner than guys past.
The whole time, I sat next to him on the couch watching the game, I wanted to hold his hand or have him sit in front of me in my arms, but it wasn’t that kind of party. I would keep my hands to myself. I wanted to jump his bones the whole time we were there. I was showing restraint however.
When the game ended, we walked home with D. The majority of the second half, I kept expressing my desire for cake, so we decided to stop at the A&P and grab something. D got some cake as well, and since he lived nearby, we made a pit stop at his place to relieve our bladders and snag a bite of his cake.
PR came back to my apartment to share the carrot cake I bought for us. While we walked, he asked me the most forward question any guy on a date has ever asked me: “Have you ever had any STDs?” I paused for a moment in shock. I indeed did, and it was an embarrassing story. I wanted to know if he equally shared in my shame before I would volunteer that information. He told me he did, so I explained the time I contracted chlamydia. He then recounted the story of the time he got crabs. It was a bizarre but interesting conversation.
While we ate cake, we discussed zodiac signs. We looked up each of ours and checked the compatibility. I don’t believe in that sort of thing, but it was fun and something to pass the time. We moved things to the couch to relax and discussed everything. I told him about all my exs and he told me about all his. We sat there talking until we realized it was 2:00am. I asked him if he was going to stay the night, and he graciously accepted.
Sleeping with him just felt so right. I was happy to have him there. He was a good guy, and I was really enjoying his company. I liked where this was going, but his future was a little uncertain. He was applying for numerous jobs and attempting to figure out a more permanent living solution. For the meantime, we were meshing so well, and I was enjoying every minute of it.
Follow @onegayatatimeA Pointless Cancellation
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 25, 2012
When Smiles and I spoke on the phone Sunday night on his way home from a party in Connecticut, I asked him to come to my apartment for a special dinner Monday night. He told me he had to work, but he was going to leave early and we’d just eat a little later. I told him this was perfect since it would take some time to cook the roast after work.
I’d told Smiles about my standing rib roast before, and he didn’t quite get what it was. I explained to him the similarity of it what one might be served at a carving station at a wedding reception. He got a clearer picture, but it still wasn’t crystal clear.
I had a rib roast in my freezer with our name on it. I finally had a chance to cook it for us, and he was on-board. I was excited. It was a plan.
Monday morning, before work, I took the roast out of the freezer to thaw for that night. I planned out the accoutrements as well. I was very excited for our romantic night. It’d been a while since we spent time together. I wanted a night of beef, wine, couch, and bed. The thought sounded spectacular to me!
What excited me even more was the idea of my sanity back. I planned to ask Smiles that night where we stood. I didn’t need a title. I didn’t need to be his boyfriend. I just wanted to know where his head was at.
I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but that’s what my inner dialogue is. I get fixated on something, and it exhausts me until I get some closure on the issue.
Much to my chagrin, at 1:00 that afternoon, Smiles sent me a text with some bad news. “Looks like I have people coming tonight so I’m not going to be able to sneak out. I don’t think dinner at 11:00 would be the bet. Do you want to have an early dinner here in the city before he show?” Very disappointed, I agreed with a “Sure.”
I was p*ssed. It wasn’t his fault, but I was a little crushed since I was taking so much care to plan out the evening, and it all went to sh*t. He suggested we do it another night, but came up with a consolation prize. He suggested I come over to his apartment for dinner instead before the screening. I begrudgingly agreed to the idea since it’d been so long since I’d seen him, and I sent my roommate a text asking him to put the roast back in the freezer.
When I finished work, I made my way downtown to his apartment. When I arrived, I was shocked to be received with a nice big kiss. Maybe he missed me. Maybe I wasn’t just a seat warmer in this relationship. There was actually emotion behind that kiss. I was happy.
I was a little anxious because I was still planning to ask him where we stood that evening.
He told me he had food in the fridge to make and suggested we cook that instead of going out for dinner. He preferred that since he wasn’t feeling well, and he was exhausted. It made no difference to me. Asking him my question in the privacy of his apartment sounded like such a better idea than in a restaurant anyway.
I ended up cooking the pork chops and asparagus for the two of us since Smiles wasn’t quite himself. We sat and ate — Him at his computer chair working while he ate and me on the couch. Not nearly the romantic meal I planned for the evening. When we finished, I helped him clean up and put the leftovers away. He started getting ready for the rest of his night, and we talked about my plans. He asked if I was planning to spend the night. “Well, I guess the first question I should ask is if you were planning to come to the screening tonight,” he added.
This was the first I was hearing this. I was quite open to the idea, but I told him, “I have nothing for work tomorrow. You were supposed to be coming out to Hoboken, remember.” “Right,” he responded. I reminded him I’d seen the movie twice now, but if he wanted company, I would come with him. I asked if he actually watches the movie, or if he does other things during the film. He told me he usually watches most of it. Things remained unsettled as he made his way over to the couch to take a quick nap on me.
That was my opportunity to ask him my burning question. Every moment I tried to open my mouth, I froze. Nothing would come out. I was suddenly transported back to when I sat on the couch trying to tell my parents I was gay. The anxiety was making my heart pound out of my chest. I tried over and over to ask him, but I couldn’t muster the courage. I’m not sure what I was afraid of, but it was driving me insane.
After a half hour of this, it was time for him to get up. I asked him if he wanted me to sleep over, or did he want to get some rest alone. We made a final decision. It was better he get some uninterrupted rest that night since he was so exhausted as much as I wanted to spend the night with him. He told me, “It’s very sweet of you to offer to see the film again to spend the night with me.” I liked hearing that. He recognized the sacrifice I was willing to make to spend time with him.
With that, I said goodbye, and he made his way to the screening while I made my way to the PATH — Without my answer.
I was so p*ssed at myself for getting so worked up about a stupid question. What was wrong with me?! Obviously, I needed someone to talk to. I tried Boston, my therapist. I needed him to talk me off the ledge and help me make sense of the situation. I couldn’t do it on my own. We talked it over for over a half hour and he convinced me I had no choice but to blatantly ask him where we stood. We even helped me nail down the phrasing.
When I got to the other side of the tunnel in Hoboken, I got a text from Smiles telling me he was on his way home. His friends never showed. My blood was boiling. We cancelled our dinner plans for NOTHING. I still had no closure on where I stood with Smiles. It certainly was going to be a toss-n-turn kinda night…
Late Night Check-In
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 24, 2012
Sunday morning, I woke up alone. It’d been a few days since I saw Smiles. I wished he’d been with me that night, but he was at a party in the city — God knows what he was up to.
I was feeling a little down. I wasn’t happy with how things were looking between us. Every time I seriously doubted his investment in our relationship, he would do something to show he still cared, but shortly after, I’d step back and wonder if it was worth it.
I had a few errands to run that I put off the day before — Mainly getting food for the week at the grocery store. I wanted to be as efficient as possible, so I took the motorcycle out to run my errands. When I finished, I came home and crashed on the couch with my laptop and a few movies.
I stayed there until the sun went down. I got up only to get food and use the facilities. I wasn’t in a funk, but I was feeling rather lonely.
Shockingly, Smiles called me late that night. It was around 10:30, and he was making his was back from the final party. It was in Connecticut, and he decided to take the Mustang out. He was just making his way back to the garage when he called. It was sweet of him. He wanted to hear all about my weekend and wanted to tell me a little about the party. I was still a little sour grapes having to hear about a party I wasn’t invited to. I knew if the shoe was on the other foot, I wouldn’t have thought twice about inviting him. I would have wanted to spend the time with him.
He also told me he was beginning to get sick. It was no wonder considering he was up until 4:00am three nights straight. He’s no spring chicken and he certainly can’t party and hang. I told him my concern, especially since it wasn’t that long ago he had surgery. Suggested a few remedies to help him feel better.
However, I still found it sweet of him to call just to chat. I was very pleasant and cordial, but I was also in the middle of a movie. When the conversation hit a lull, I told him I was going to get back to the movie I was watching. It was something he’d done when I’d called him before, so I didn’t feel guilty. I started to get the feeling he called because he was lonely and bored on his way home. He’d probably made all his business and friendly calls for the night on the drive, and he thought to circle back with me before the weekend was over. I was annoyed at the thought, and I didn’t want that to come across on the phone.
He detailed for me the long journey home ahead of him. All I could think in the back of my head was, “Well… You could have had company if you’d just asked.” He was making me feel like a complete “woman.” I hate feeling like that. It wasn’t that I was being emotional, but I felt clingy and like I was chasing him — Not a good feeling.
We said goodbye. I went back to my movie, and he made his way to the subway to head home.
When he got home, he sent me a text to let me know he made it home. Here is a clear indication something is wrong in your relationship — When you get that message, and you think to yourself, “Who cares?”
Things needed to change. I didn’t like what I was becoming or what was happening. Change was inevitable…
Follow @onegayatatimeCleaning Up
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 13, 2012
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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