Posts Tagged phone call
Today is a Fast Forward Monday!!!
My apologies to those who have come to expect Fast Forward Fridays. I have been traveling for work/pleasure, and I got caught up in things. I haven’t had a chance to write the second post, so I’m making up for it today. Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!
Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…
After missing the opportunity to finally meet my online friend after almost a years time chasing each other around, the day finally arrived when I was scheduled to finally meet him in the flesh. This was well overdue, and I was quite excited. I wasn’t about to get ahead of myself, but the suspense had been building up for quite some time.
We discussed where we would go for drinks or dinner and finally settled on Charritos, a Mexican restaurant I’ve been to on numerous occasions. In fact, this wasn’t the first date I took there. We planned to meet at 7:30. I knew the place didn’t take reservations, but it was a Monday night on a holiday weekend. I figured everyone was home getting ready for the coming workweek. It also wasn’t the nicest night, as snow was in the forecast, so I thought we’d be alright.
When I arrived, I was immediately proved wrong. I stood in front waiting for him to arrive noticing every table (all 8 of them) filled with diners. Finally, he arrived, and we attempted to go inside out of the cold. Even this proved difficult since there was nowhere to go once we were in there. While we waited for a table to clear, we awkwardly chatted.
This was surprisingly difficult. He seemed so incredibly flirty online and charismatic, and the man standing in front of me was a very shy reserved individual. I couldn’t get over it. Where was the guy I’d been chatting about my body and sexual interests in detail? Where was the flirt?
We talked about work and the weather. It was a struggle to find a topic to discuss. Everything felt forced. It wasn’t awful, but it certainly wasn’t what I expected.
Finally we got a table and sat. After we ordered, we started to chat a bit more. I asked most of the questions. He always responded in detail, but he never asked a question in turn. That may have helped the conversation flow much more freely, but it wasn’t there. I had to volunteer all my information. I feel awkward talking about myself when I wasn’t asked to. It was as if I was interviewing him for a job.
One topic we got on was siblings. I don’t know why, but that topic has been coming up more and more frequently on my dates. I’ve actually noticed it and tried curbing it. I learned about his siblings as well. It was nice to hear he came from such a similar family dynamic.
We talked about his job as well. I was very intrigued by it. He told me all about his schooling, his specialty in the field relevant to the gay community, his boss, the clinical work he does… This was really shaping up to be quite the catch of a man. He was very sweet and thoughtful. However, our chemistry was not mixing AT ALL! It was so disappointing. On paper he looked so good. Online, he seemed a sexual match for my libido. In person, he was a mouse. Night and day from my expectations.
After quite a while, the waiter basically asked us to leave. There were people waiting for a table, so they kicked us out. I was more than a little p*ssed, because I thought it was very unprofessional and rude, however, it was time for the date to conclude.
We’d already talked about him coming over to my apartment before the date. I was still very sexually attracted to him. I wondered if he’d relax when he was out of the public eye. As we walked outside, I asked him where he parked and told him I’d walk him to his car. I was hoping for a signal along the way to show his interest. I thought he’d drive me to my apartment and come up.
I thought we’d at least say a proper goodbye. I was hoping for a kiss considering all I could think about during the meal was how good his lips would feel. When we got to the car, I stood on the sidewalk, and he walked to the front passengers panel in front of the rearview mirror. That would have been fine. I may have even used the car as a backboard for a strong kiss, BUT there was also a chopped off parking meter between him and myself. Yes. A metal pole about four feet tall was between the two of us. I don’t think he could have strategically showed his lack of interest any more other than to simply get in the car and drive away.
We said goodbye, and I told him it was nice meeting him. He said, “Likewise.” That’s when I grew some balls and took what I wanted. I moved forward, reached my long arm over the pole, hooked it under his arm around his back, and pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t a long kiss or a makeout session, but I certainly wasn’t going to be satisfied with a peck.
And with that, I turned and walked home in the flurries falling from the sky. I was still a little blown away by the lack of spark during the date. I wasn’t even ready to go home. I decided to stop by my friends’ place on the way home and say hi.
I came in and we caught up on what’s going on with each other before I told he and his wife about my awkward date. He was a little baffled by it as well. He couldn’t understand what was going on. He really loved the parking meter pole story as well. I was so nonplussed.
I sulked home after saying goodnight to my friends. When I got home, I was curious to see if he was back on a4a. Surprise! I was right. I wasn’t going to get past this immediately. I needed to ask him about what happened.
“Surprise, surprise. Look who’s on here,” I messaged him. We chatted a bit awkwardly about the date. He messaged me back: “I was waiting for you to ask me to come back.” He wanted to come back to my apartment. He even brought his c*ck ring and poppers with him. I was so confused, and I made that clear to him. He wasn’t aware of his mixed signals, nor was he aware of the pole. He just thought I wasn’t interested since I walked him to his car. It was all a big misunderstanding. “I had a good time. I thought the conversation was nice,” he added. That doesn’t make up for the awkward date however. That just cleared up the mixed signals at its close.
Just to satiate my curiosity, I told him we would have to try to fix what went wrong when I got back from my work trip to San Francisco. He agreed, so we kept in touch over the next week.
I decided to see what was going on with the southern guy. He texted me to see how my weekend was, so I picked up the phone and called him. Again, we talked for almost an hour while I packed. This completely made up for my awkward date. I was really looking forward to getting back so I could finally meet him. Hopefully this one wouldn’t be as big a disappointment.
In the morning, I had a message from my new southern gentleman caller. He was asking for a picture of my “morning excitement” we’d discussed previously. I denied his request and told him he’d have to wait to see the real thing. This was my way of getting him on the ball about meeting up with me.
I also got a text message from my friend and recent neighbor. It was very sweet of him to do so. I needed to make it a priority to hang out with him when I got back to New York.
All that would have to wait on the backburner… The following day, I was headed to San Francisco for the week for work. Waiting for me were two men. One I attempted a long distance relationship with whom I would meet for a cocktail. The other, a great confident and online friend whom I was extremely excited to meet in person, especially in the bedroom…Follow @onegayatatime
Monday would pass by and I would not see Smiles. As was typical with Mondays, he had to work an event, so we wouldn’t spend the night together.
Monday I reached out to him to ask if he wanted to see the newest Twilight movie after watching the third together. I also have free passes to the movies in Hoboken because my friend lets me use his discount card on free movie Tuesdays. He was interested, so we made plans to see the movie.
When Tuesday arrived, he asked me if I minded putting the movie off until later and seeing it in the city. His friend was doing a gallery showing in Brooklyn, and he wanted to go out and support him. I was fine with this. The only thing it meant was the movie wouldn’t be free anymore.
When I finished work, I made my way down to his apartment. As I walked to his place from the subway, I called him to see if I could get him anything at the Starbucks a block from his apartment. He told me he would just meet me there. I placed my order and played on Twitter while I waited for him to arrive and get his coffee.
We walked to the subway while we talked about our days since we last saw each other. Luckily, the subway ride out to Brooklyn wasn’t too long because the train was packed. We spent most of the ride not even standing next to each other.
When we got above ground, he told me he needed to make a phone call for work and asked if I could find our way to the place. I pulled up the map on my phone and pulled him around while he talked to someone else. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with this, but I dealt with it. A few blocks before the place, he finally hung up and explained what it was all about.
When we arrived, we made our way to the back of the bar where his friend was showing his photographs. He gave his friend a big hug. Then, as he turned to me, words that felt like daggers came out of his mouth: “This is my friend, [OneGay AtaTime].” I wonder if my expression gave away my pain.
We’d been seeing each other for two and a half months at this point. He’d referred to me as the guy he was dating previously. Why now was I just a friend? I would have been happy without the descriptor. He could have just used my name. From then on, I was a little turned off. I began to analyze our relationship a bit. I looked back at a lot of our interactions with a fine tooth comb.
I was shying away from the boyfriend term because I’d had bad pervious history with it, but it was a term I wanted to use. It seemed he was avoiding using even the phrase dating. Was I getting ahead of myself, or was he way behind?
He bought me a drink at the bar, and we walked around with the photographer as he described his process. I was still distracted by my own thoughts.
When we sat down for a bit, and man approached and asked how we knew the photographer. Smiles described how he is an old friend from work projects and how he took pictures at his birthday gathering. The man explained his relation and told us what he did for a living. Smiles and he got into a long discussion about production. I sat quietly by, nodding my head. I didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation.
When Smiles tired of the man, he used me as an excuse. “I’ve gotta get this guy some food, or he’s gonna kill me,” he said. He told his friend we were heading out to get dinner, and I said goodbye.
As we walked back to the subway, Smiles b*tched about the conversation he had with the man. It was getting into a bit of a p*ssing contest towards the end. Then, he realized he needed to call someone else about the work project, so he was on the phone the entire walk back to the train once again.
I was feeling pretty unappreciated to begin with, but this was really getting to me. Why was I with him? He should have just canceled on me. I was still analyzing our relationship over the past two and a half months as I always do, and I wasn’t thrilled with the results.
We made our way back into the city and debated whether we would grab quick dinner and still try to catch the movie or just go for dinner. We wouldn’t decide until we were above ground and checking out showtimes for the movie…Follow @onegayatatime
I picked him up on Grindr one late night in the city. He was a very attractive lawyer who seemed pretty normal and very masculine. He went to the gym a lot, so his body was tight, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. We exchanged numbers shortly after we began talking on Grindr. I texted him a few times while on vacation with my family to make sure he was still thinking about me periodically while I was gone. He was another guy I thought had a lot of promise.
The night before, while waiting for the bus to meet the southern gent, I called Harvard. He picked up, and we chatted a bit. I told him about my vacation and he told me how similar his family is. He had a trip coming up in a few months and felt the same way about it that I did about mine. It was easy to talk to him. He sounded great too. No flamboyance at least. I was looking forward to meeting him in person. I thought to myself, “Maybe a phone call should be a new part of the screening process before the first date. I could eliminate a few bad apples this way.”
On the walk home from my date with the souther gent, we texted each other. He managed to slip in a comment about how much he liked my body. I certainly appreciated the compliment and threw one right back in his direction.
We scheduled a date that Monday evening at Blockheads, and outdoor Mexican restaurant. This would be my third date in two days — I was speed dating over the course of a few days. I arrived early, so I put our name down and sat to read Chelsea Handler’s My Horizontal Life until he arrived. (She’s part of what inspired me to write this blog, so I thought I should at least read her books).
When he arrived, we were seated immediately. We had a nice table for two on the rim of the crowd. A few birds flew around our feet, and he started to freak out. I get weirded out when pigeons do it, but these were tiny little birds, not the flying rats I want to punt every time I see them. Now, I’m not judging, but it was a bit excessive. He freaked out and told me how much birds skeeve him out, but I was still a little weirded out by how much it bothered him.
I started to size him up. He looked like his pictures and he filled out his polo very nicely. Great arms and a great chest. I could tell he was a regular athlete who hit up the gym. This is important to me since I am so active. I need someone who can keep up with me.
We started on the small talk. We chatted about college, family, vacation, where we grew up, what we did for fun. It was almost as if he was reading from an interview script. The conversation was alright, but it certainly wasn’t relaxed. I was a little turned off because everything he said had a slight air of superiority to it. He was trying too hard to impress me, and if there’s one thing that turns me off with people, it’s that. He even wore his pretentious college ring. He was a nice guy, but I couldn’t take the high brow attitude.
In between all this, the waiter came by to take our drink orders and then our dinner orders. Every time he came by, Harvard started flirting with him. It was obvious this guy was a ‘mo, but he wasn’t even attractive. The waiter is supposed to flirt with you for a good tip, not the other way around.
We both enjoyed our meal and continued the “interview” while we ate. He told me about his “type.” I fit the mold perfectly as far as physical looks went, but I have a feeling he was looking for a younger or more subservient guy. We would butt heads, and I think he was looking for a guy he could rule over.
When the date ended, we hugged goodbye. We didn’t even talk about follow-up. We both knew there were no fireworks there. On my walk home, I texted him, “It was nice to meet you.” He responded, “likewise.” After that, it was simply on to the next guy on the list…Follow @onegayatatime