Posts Tagged Port Authority
Nothing really puts stress on a relationship quite like a move. One year had gone by for CK in The Big Apple. He moved to the city in a hurry, finding a nice apartment in a convenient neighborhood, but because of the rush, he ended up paying more than one would like living in New York City. There are plenty of things to see and do in the city that never sleeps, so spending all your money on rent is no fun!
He decided when his lease was up, it was time to find new living quarters. This was quite stressful, not only for him, but also for me. Selfishly, he lived two avenues and a few blocks from my office. I could easily walk there, and commuting to his place from mine in Hoboken was a snap. Chances are, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
When he told me he started looking on the Lower East Side, I was nonplussed. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hike to get to his place every time I came to see him. The Lower East Side is only convenient to get to from one place — The Lower East Side. But, in the end, this wasn’t my decision. I was there to be supportive while he went through the stress of trying to find a new place.
When the search expanded out to include Brooklyn, I nearly had a panic attack. Screw hike — Brooklyn was going to be a day’s journey to get to from Hoboken. I was petrified for our relationship. I wasn’t sure at the time if our relationship could survive the stress on a day-to-day basis.
Finally, after his mother flew to NYC to help him pack and find a new apartment, he landed in a sweet spot. I was thrilled with the final outcome. He managed to find a room in an apartment in a managed building in Hell’s Kitchen with two roommates. I had experience in Hell’s Kitchen. Broadway lived in Hell’s Kitchen, and I was able to walk to work from his apartment. It was also very convenient for me because Port Authority wasn’t far from his apartment, so I could use the bus system. It was the quickest way to travel when heading to or from that part of town. I felt very comfortable in HK as well. I’d taken more than a handful of dates to that neighborhood. The gay population was large enough that no one looked twice at two men holding hands or sharing a kiss.
When the time came to move, I wanted to run and hide. I’d dealt with CK’s attention span before, but nothing of this caliber. I thought it nearly impossible to keep him on task so this move would go as smoothly as possible. Even with the help of his mother, there was still a lot of work to be done. CK isn’t the best planner in the world either. While the idea of booking moving men a few weeks in advance or gathering boxes crossed his mind, the action and follow-through never occurred.
I was trying to be patient. He was going through a lot. I was going to help him, not out of obligation, but out of love. He needed me, and I was going to be there for him, however, it was going to take a lot of strength and biting my tongue to get through this.
I agreed to help him pack things up Thursday after work. I had limited time, however, because I had a volleyball game that evening. I left work as soon as I could and arrived with flat boxes for him from my mail department. We made a lot of progress, but it certainly wasn’t without a lot of comments. I do have to say, it went a lot better than I expected. It certainly could have been a lot worse. Luckily I had a built-in time limit, and the time came for me to head back to Jersey.
We both took the following day off from work. After many failed attempts to get a truck, borrow someone’s car, book movers, we decided to try to rent a Zipcar. This of course wasn’t going to work because there is an application period. Although we were able to walk over to one of their offices in New York City, we had to wait for him to be approved to rent a car. We wasted most of the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what to do and lying around. After growing incredibly frustrated with the poor use of our time, I decided to stop worrying. I tried to keep my frustration to myself. While I was going to be there to offer my support, in the end this wasn’t going to be my problem. If he drug his feet long enough, this was either going to become his huge hassle or it would increase his financial burden.
There were rides in the back of a van with boxes and potholes. There were things packed at the bottom of a box only to be torn open again. There were enough dust bunnies to start a farm. The list goes on…
Of course, there were copious amounts of arguing. We rarely agreed on anything, but we did both make an effort not to rile the other up. When we finally got all his things in a rented U-Haul van, we had to wait outside in the cold/drizzle until his roommate came downstairs to let us into the elevator bank. His roommate still hadn’t given him the key, so we had yet one more person to rely on to be responsible.
After a little blood, a lot of sweat and almost some tears, we managed to get everything into his apartment. Beyond that, we managed to get all of his belongings into his bedroom. The only thing that saved us was the fact that he didn’t have a bed yet. He left his old bed behind in the previous apartment and hadn’t ordered a new one yet. Of course, it would take some time before things got unpacked. The lack of bed also meant we had to head back to Hoboken every night so we had somewhere to sleep.
It was a very stressful weekend, but in the end, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, it could have gone smoother, but in the end, everything worked out. I was happy to help my man, and I know he truly appreciated my help. And the fact that we survived something as stressful as this told me we could survive just about anything.Follow @onegayatatime
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Things were going well for PR and I. He was turning out to be a great guy.
One evening after work, we made plans to finally go see The Woman in Black in the city. We both shared an interest in horror/scary movies, so I agreed. It sounded like a nice date too. I was sure it would involve some intimate hand holding in the theater and a nice night on the town for us.
I stayed at work killing time by writing a few blog posts until the time came to go to the movies. We agreed to meet in midtown by the PATH station and walk to the theater together. I didn’t hear from him for quite some time. It was getting very close to showtime, and I was getting annoyed. Why wasn’t he answering me? We were going to miss the movie.
Finally, I got a call from him. I met him on the street after learning he’d already started walking towards the theater. When I met him, I informed him we missed the movie. We needed to go to a different theater or find somewhere to grab a bite before the next showtime. He was very apologetic, but I was okay with everything. I didn’t have a schedule for the evening. I was just happy to be spending it with him.
PR tried to pay for my ticket, which I thought was very sweet of him, especially since he was just working part-time until he found a full-time position. I thanked him for offering as I put my own credit card into the ticket vending machine to buy my own ticket. He tried to fight me, but it was no use.
We grabbed a big bag of popcorn and sodas and found our seats. I enjoyed holding his hand or rubbing his arm while we watched the movie. He was an affectionate guy like me. I liked that we were a match in that department. I was falling for him pretty fast, and we were spending a lot of time together over a short period of time.
The movie was decent. I don’t know that I would have picked it, but I was entertained and was happy to be out with PR.
We decided to grab dinner back in Hoboken. PR had only lived there a short period of time. He was anxious to get a lay of the land, so I suggested a few places we could hit up along the way. We settled on It’s Greek to Me and rode the bus through the Lincoln Tunnel. We hopped off the bus at our stop and went into a convenient store to grab a bottle of wine to take to the restaurant.
We sat at a table and decided on our meals. I insisted he try my favorite appetizer there, saganaki cheese. It was perfect with the wine we bought. I was really enjoying a casual night with him. The conversation was so relaxed and easy. We’d already gotten well past the awkward date stage. I was happy to just sit there with him at times, not even talking.
After we split the bill, we made our way home. We chatted more while we walked, and when we got to the intersection between our apartments, he was ready to say goodbye. I questioned him, and asked, “Aren’t you going to spend the night?” He replied immediately, “Do you want me to?” To which I confirmed and pulled him towards my apartment immediately. He asked if my roommates were home, but I told him that wouldn’t matter. They were cool and had people over all the time. He had no worries.
He’d forgotten to call his sisters to wish them a happy birthday, so he made a few phone calls to them while I answered a few emails and checked up on the blog. We relaxed on the couch for a little bit before making moves to the bedroom to go to bed. We watched Archer and Chelsea Lately in bed together, and laughed at all the same parts. It was nice to just sit and watch TV with a man.
When a commercial break came, I asked him what his “roommate” thought about him not being home all the time lately. “I told him I’m sleeping in a cute guy’s California King bed,” he quipped. I laughed and joked with him: “Is that all I am to you — A comfy bed?” He laughed and kissed me to show the contrary. Shortly thereafter, we dozed off and went to bed.
When my alarm went off in the morning to get ready for work, I looked back to the bed and smiled. I was happy to be waking up next to him. Of course I hopped back into bed and started to get a little frisky, but that wouldn’t make me late for work. I planned ahead and set the alarm a few minutes early.
I always leave room for play time…Follow @onegayatatime
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Since deciding to end things with Smiles, I’d already been on one date and had one hookup. I certainly hit the ground running. I felt slightly guilty all this was going on before we even had the chance to formally end things, but then again, things never really formally began between us.
I wasn’t wasting any time either. I had been talking to a really nice guy on adam4adam.com and set up a date to grab drinks with him after work Friday evening. It was a bit awkward because this was truly a blind date.
He had two pictures on a4a, but neither was clear and one didn’t include a face. When I asked him to send me a better face picture, he told me he didn’t like taking pictures of himself. Of course a red flag raised in my mind, but I had nothing to lose either. If I arrived and the guy was unacceptable, I was right next to the Port Authority bus terminal. I would be home in no time with little of my time wasted.
We agreed to grab drinks at Arriba Arriba in Hell’s Kitchen. It was conveniently located between his apartment and my office, and like I said, it wasn’t far from my transportation hub to go home.
As I left my office and began walking north, I was quite nervous. I’d never been on a true blind date before. I’d at least seen pictures of their faces, but this time I had no idea what he looked like. I joked with him, “Not gonna lie. Not sure what you look like… Haha.” It didn’t take him to respond: “Sorry mate. Don’t like taking pictures of myself. We will find each other… haha. You can ask me to leave once you see me and how ugly I am. Lol.” I didn’t care all that much at this point for the picture. I was already going in blind. I replied, “No apologies needed. Just tellin’ ya you’re gonna have to find me…”
I waited for him on the street corner. I put that time in a good location to good use. I surfed Grindr in HK for any new prospects. I know some may say that is classless considering I was waiting for a date, but I’m not in HK all that often anymore, and there is more talent in that neighborhood than where I work. He finally arrived and approached me. I asked how his trek to HK was, and we went inside to find a table.
When we learned we could only stand at the bar since we weren’t ordering food, we decided to go elsewhere. I was at a bit of a loss because I hadn’t been in the neighborhood for some time. I didn’t know of a good place for us to go for a drink. Luckily, this guy was good on his feet. He suggested Eatery, and we were off.
We grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a few rounds of drinks. We chatted for a long time about a myriad of things. The whole time, he kept his ball-cap on. Beyond the fact that he should know it’s bad manners, especially since he was an older gentleman, I was also worried there may be no hair under there. I’m not shallow, and looks are not everything to me. But, if he was balding without shaving his head, I wasn’t sure I could deal with that. (Smiles shaved his head and I was obviously okay with that).
We talked about our upbringings. He lived a bicoastal lifestyle, living in California and South Carolina. He also was shipped off to boarding school in Switzerland, where his grandparents lived. I grew up on a farm and went to public school. We had quite the education/socio-economic divide before. This is one thing I‘m not sure I am capable of getting past. I’m sure if it was the right guy, I could handle him coming from wealth, but it’s something that makes me quite uneasy. He came from money, and a lot of it.
I also learned he leads a very lavish lifestyle. He told me about his plans to purchase a house in Barcelona. He’d recently traveled there to scope out some places. He also told me about the $200,000.00 loan he gave a friend and was never paid back because the friend died and left his only possession, his apartment, to someone else. He told me about his lavish trips to the Caribbean islands recently. The list goes on.
Ironically enough, he wasn’t talking about all these because he was trying to impress me (Or at least it didn’t come off that way, which is fine). It simply came up in conversation or I coaxed them out with questions. I just felt uncomfortable with our socio-economic differences. I don’t really aspire to the position of kept man. I want someone who will share the financial burdens with me equally. I know a lot of people would love to find someone rich to marry, but money means very little to me when it comes to love. I think like I would constantly feel like less of a man if I had everything provided for me constantly, and I contributed far less to the relationship. Maybe this is something I will learn to get over in time, but for now, it makes me uneasy.
I learned how he continued to build his wealth and his professional relationship with a family in Canada. He told me about all the businesses he was involved in, and I started to worry he was another Smiles — Too much on his plate to commit to a real relationship. I also learned he wasn’t out to many people in his life, even after he’d been in a nine-year relationship with a man who left his wife for him. It ended when the man cheated on him while he was away on business. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him still being in the closet. He’d experienced too much and was far too old to still be in denial of his true self. I wasn’t sure I wanted a “project” at that age.
Drinks quickly turned into dinner. We stayed at the bar and made friends with the waitress. She was super sweet and very interested in chatting with us. Over our meal, we conversed more, and I learned we share a lot of the same morals and interests. We had similar outlooks in life.
He also became much more physical as the night progressed. He constantly had his hand on my leg rubbing my thighs and caressing the back of my knee. I started to do the same. Periodically, he would stand and give me a big ol’ bear hug. It was sweet. I liked knowing he was a passionate physical man. I needed that after Smiles constant distance.
Six hours later, we were ready to leave the bar. He decided to walk me to the bus. I thought when we exited the restaurant we’d exchange a kiss and go our separate ways. He was a true gentleman and walked me to the Port Authority. Not only that, but he walked me to my gate to wait for my bus and stood there waiting with me. It was midnight, and he was being a total sweetheart. He stood anxiously next to me as if he didn’t know what to do or how to close the date. He wasn’t really out, so I had a feeling a goodnight kiss in front of a large group of strangers was out of the question. When my bus arrived, he said goodbye and we agreed to be in touch.
As I rode home from the date, I wasn’t entirely sure what I thought of him. He became more attractive as the night went on, but I wasn’t sure if that was his personality or the alcohol stepping in for average looks.
I had a lot to think about. It was clear to me he was interested in me. The next day, he texted to see if I was interested in catching a movie that evening. I told him I had plans to hang with friends locally, but if they fell through, I’d let him know. When I decided to keep my plans, I texted him to let him know. He wasn’t all that concerned considering he had hopped on a flight to Boston to hang out with friends and go to a party. Yup, hopped on a flight that day. He obviously didn’t have a planned flight considering he asked me to go to the movies — Unless he was planning to fly me to Boston to do so…
That night, while out with my friends, I called Boston. He told me some of his new exciting war stories, and I told him of my trepidations about Deep Pockets. He told me I was nuts to write him off based on financial differences, so I decided to see where things went over the next week or so.
We texted a few times more, but interest wasn’t strong on either end as the text messages slowly came to an end. I was on to the next prospect…Follow @onegayatatime
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I continued my walk of shame north on Seventh Avenue. I was still dressed for a night out from New Year’s Eve the night before. I didn’t care if anyone judged me. I was in my own world. No one else existed that morning. I was utterly alone in a city of millions.
I continued to try to reach Boston through text and by phone, but no dice. Since I was going to be near his apartment, I thought I would reach out to Broadway. At the very least, I could kill time with a visit until Boston finally decided to get back to me. I called him, and he picked up after a few rings. I asked him what he was up to and told him I wanted to swing by for a visit. He was still in bed and said he needed a few minutes, but he told me to come by. I told him I was walking from the 20s, so there was no rush for him to get out of bed.
When I arrived, I walked right up to his apartment. It was like old times — A blast from the past. It’d been months since I’d been there, but it felt like yesterday. I knocked on the door, and he greeted me. I came in and sat while he finished getting ready for the day. We sat on the couch, and he asked how my New Years was. “Tell me stories. You always have good stories to tell me,” he added. I told him what I did the night before. I gave him the cliff notes because I didn’t want to belabor the point. The wound was still fresh and bleeding. He shrugged it off and suggested we go to the diner for breakfast. I kinda loved that about him. He knew how I felt about it, so he did his best to brush it under the rug.
I agreed to go to breakfast, but I told him I’d already eaten. I would keep him company, and we could catch up. It’d been since the summer since I’d seen him.
Breakfast was nice. He told me about the party he went to the night before and all the guys he was pursuing. As usual, he was very passive about it. “I dunno if I really want to see him again…” he’d say. He’d find something completely superficial to judge the guy about so he wouldn’t have to put in the effort.
Since Smiles’ birthday gathering, we gained a mutual friend. We learned this from Facebook. The guy who I palled around for the night had been at the party Broadway went to the night before. They interacted, but it wasn’t a positive interaction. Broadway was remotely interested in this guy, but apparently he gave him the cold shoulder. This really turned him off, but I assured him my birthday buddy was a really great guy. If I’d been single that night, I probably would have asked him for his number. Broadway wasn’t sold.
Ironically enough, Smiles and I were almost at this party. It wasn’t until Smiles learned of the over-priced charge to enter that he decided we were just going to the house party. It was crazy to realize Broadway, Smiles and I were all swimming in the same circles in New York City. Apparently the gay community was pretty tight, even in a big city. It put it all into perspective. It also made me realize the picture of myself I painted when I let a stranger suck on my neck and face in front of the guy I was dating.
I wasn’t feeling very talkative, so I did a lot of question asking and listening. When Broadway finished his breakfast, he asked for the check. He wasn’t feeling well, so he wanted to go back to bed. I checked my phone, and Boston still hadn’t gotten back to me. I guess I wouldn’t see him before he left the city.
I walked Broadway back to his apartment and said goodbye. Something I learned from him was it is okay to kiss an ex on the lips when you see them. When I first came out, I was fascinated by how often gay men kissed each other. This was completely foreign to me and not something I was comfortable with. Even if I travel in a big gay pack, I don’t think I would be kissing my gay male friends. But, I felt comfortable kissing a man who I had kissed over a hundred times. So we exchanged a kiss and a hearty hug before I made my way to Port Authority to snag a bus back to Hoboken.
While I walked to the bus, I texted Smiles: “Since I have the day off tomorrow, can we do something fun?” I was hoping I could do some damage control and get us back on a happy track.
It wasn’t long before I received a simple text in response: “I have to work tomorrow.” I was already picturing a Monday afternoon with me sinking deep into the couch by myself in front of the TV. I was very disappointed, but it’s not like I had anything to say. I was the one who royally messed up here. I was going to have to deal with the consequences.
Later that evening, I talked to Boston on Facebook. I told him what I did and how things played out. We didn’t talk long, but promised to come back to the topic when he had more time.
I had time all day to assess the situation. Why wasn’t Smiles mad? I realized I wasn’t happy about this. It hurt even more. It showed me quite clearly how little I meant to him. I didn’t see any way to recover from this. I was pretty sure our relationship was over. And, since I’m pretty much a high schooler in the gay dating world, I hopped back on adam4adam.com and Grindr that night to see what was out there. I wasn’t throwing my line into the sea, but I could at least swim around and see what kind of fish were out there…Follow @onegayatatime
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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…Follow @onegayatatime
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After seeing Sexy Eyes on the street with my roommate, I decided to make him a priority. He not only impressed me, but also my roommate. She wanted to date him . He was charming and funny and had a smile and sexy green eyes that gave me butterflies.
On my way home that night, I began texting immediately. He was all but begging me to stay in the city that night with him, but I insisted I would not let my roommate walk home alone at that hour of the night. He heavily respected my decision, but also attempted to persuade me to come back on another bus after I walked her home.
Instead, I promised we would go out the following Friday. That still didn’t satiate him. He wanted to know why we couldn’t meet Thursday. I explained I had my volleyball league Thursday nights, so I would be unable to meet up. I figured he would understand being quite the volleyball player himself.
That of course was a lie. I scheduled a meeting with a guy from OKCupid. It was an interesting scenario. The guy reached out to me originally, but after chatting a bit, I came to learn he was seeing someone. He was just looking for friends. I didn’t buy it of course, but if that’s what he really wanted, I was game. I need gay friends. We scheduled happy hour drinks for Thursday evening after work.
When the OKCupid friend had to bail because of a follow-up job interview, I decided to see if Sexy Eyes was available for after work coffee. I figured we could sit and chat and get to know each other a little better.
He bit. He was extremely excited to see me. Immediately following work, I walked down to the Starbucks closest to his office. He works at a financial law firm and would not be finished for the evening. He was, however, able to step out for about an hour to chat.
The conversation was mainly dominated by him, but it was good nonetheless. We talked for about an hour before I told him I needed to head home for volleyball (my other date). Our date ended with a few smooches and a hug. I was really feeling this guy. We shared a lot in common, he was older and had a respectable job, he was very good looking, he was fun to be around… The list goes on. As I walked away, he texted me telling me he wanted to kiss me more, but didn’t want to make a scene near his office. He begged me to come back into the city after my “volleyball game.” I entertained the idea in my head, but I made no promises. Who knew how my next date would go?
I met the next guy at a bar near the Christopher Street PATH station, but that will have to be tomorrow’s blog entry, because as you may have suspected, I wasn’t quite done seeing Sexy Eyes that evening. After my second date, I went home, showered and changed, and hopped on a bus back to the city. Sexy Eyes was just finishing up his own volleyball workout as I was getting to Port Authority.
We agreed we’d go out somewhere, but made no plans. When I arrived at Port Authority, I called him to find out the plan. He told me he just got out of the shower and needed to finish getting ready. He gave me his address and told me to come to his apartment. We would make a decision where to go from there.
When I arrived, I told the doorman who I was there to see, and he let me up to the apartment. I was greeted at the door with a very nice kiss, and we chatted while he finished getting ready.
Somehow, we both ended up in his bedroom just as he finished getting ready. He sat on the bed in front of me, lifted my shirt and began kissing and licking my entire torso. It felt amazing.
Between kisses, he asked if I wanted to go out or just stay in. I didn’t need to verbally answer because I was already removing his shirt. I hadn’t had sex since Labor Day. I won’t say I was a big ball of horny, but he was a very attractive and seemed very interested in me and not just my body. I wanted him. Bad.
(Warning: The following may be graphic for some) Shortly after, he was undoing my belt and unzipping my pants. He was thrilled to learn I submitted to his request to wear briefs. I never wear them, but if a man requests it and thinks I look sexy in them, who am I to disagree? He then pulled down my briefs and opened his mouth and felt amazing. It had been a while since anyone did anything with my body besides my own two hands, so I was completely enjoying the moment.
Things got hotter, and we both ended up on the bed in numerous positions. Throughout the course of our time in bed, he started playfully biting me. I’m not gonna lie. It hurt! I went along with it because they were quick, and I have a high pain threshold. But, I wasn’t entirely into it. This was something that may have to be resolved down the road. At the peak of the passion, I was inside him, and we were both thoroughly enjoying ourselves. He finished during the act, and shortly after, I finished myself off. As per usual with the guys I’ve been with, he was impressed with my finale. Something I’ve learned to take pride in based on the reception it usually gets.
He beckoned me to come join him in the shower to clean up so we could snuggle in bed. After the shower, we laid in bed together and watched the late night news. It was getting very late, and I was constantly dozing off. After realizing this, he suggested we turn off the TV and go to bed. After all, we both had work in the morning, and he had to be up earlier than I did.
The next morning, we woke at the same time. He hopped in the shower while I read over emails from his bed. When he got out, I hopped in for my turn. He told me he would probably be gone by the time I got out. I was instructed to take my time and just pull the door shut behind me on my way out. I thanked him and kissed him goodbye.
That evening, it was affirmed for me the biting had gone too far. All day at work, my chest was sore where he bit me, and when I came home and got undressed, I looked like I was abused in certain spots.
That morning, I walked to work with a smile on my face. It was a good night, and I met a good man who seemed to be interested in me. Over the few months I’ve been out and single, I’ve learned my lesson not to count my chickens before they’ve hatched. Maybe I’ve become slightly jaded in the process, and this bothered me. But, this was something I needed to start doing so I wouldn’t get my hopes up and get hurt in the end.Follow @onegayatatime
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Roughly one block away from my date with Dr. Nice, I began texting another guy I had on standby for a date that evening. I wanted to see if I could use my time wisely and see two guys on my free Friday evening. It would help cut down the roster if they weren’t quality guys. The story I told him was that I was out to dinner with clients, and I would get in touch with him as the dinner was ending.
We found each other a few days earlier, and we agreed to meet in Hell’s Kitchen, but never picked a specific location. As I walked south on 9th Avenue after my first date, I found out he wasn’t far. I told him to head north on 9th Avenue, and we would meet in the middle. We could pick somewhere in the neighborhood to grab a drink.
As I was walking, I realized how bad that idea was. We never met before, and there was a good chance we would walk right past each other. I picked a bar, Nizza, and told him to meet me in front of it.
He walked up with a smile from ear to ear. He was somewhat attractive, and when he opened his mouth, his Latino background was screaming at me. I have nothing against it, but I also don’t have much in common with the typical culture.
We grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a few cocktails. I ordered a Dark and Stormy Float. It was a very interesting drink with the twist of Rum Raisin ice cream. I love Dark and Stormys, but I wasn’t thrilled with this concoction. My date insisted I order something else, but I insisted I would finish it. He enjoyed his drink while we talked about what brought him from Miami to New York. He was working as a producer on a Hispanic television news show, and was looking for a change. He wanted to move to New York and was afforded a job transfer.
It was interesting to learn he was in the city only four months, so he hadn’t yet experienced the changing of the seasons. He wasn’t quite used to the phrase “the end of summer.” As we talked, the conversation began to take shape as me giving him advice on how to adapt to New York City and less about us and any future we may have.
He told me all about being brought up in Miami and how he is going to miss being so close to his family. However, he was thinking about his career and needed to move up in this world. Surprisingly, he was living in New Jersey as well. I knew this bit of information earlier and asked him to meet on the other side of the river, but he explained where he lived and how it would be difficult to meet over there since he had no car.
We closed our tab, and I agreed to walk him to Port Authority. I was heading there myself to go back to Hoboken for the night. Before he hopped on one of the shuttles, we exchanged hugs. He suggested we find the time to meet up again. I told him we would be in touch and manage to figure something out in the near future.
Of course, he was yet another man who would fall by the wayside due to lack of interest on my part. He was a nice enough guy, but there was nothing there to really draw me in.
It seemed I was back to my old ways of serial unsuccessful dating. I needed my luck to change, or my self-esteem was really going to land in the crapper…Follow @onegayatatime
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Before I went to OCMD, I was talking to a southern gentleman who found me on Grindr. We hit it off immediately. He seemed like a level-headed guy, and he was 35. After my last failed relationship with a 25 year-old, I decided older was better. San Francisco opened me up to the idea of dating a man of that age, and I had a good feeling about it.
The Southern Gent and I messaged each other a lot on Grindr. We also exchanged pictures. He found me exceptionally sexy, and I found him to be quite attractive. He was no super model, but he certainly took care of himself. We exchanged Facebook information. I looked through all his pictures. They were of him being crazy at a wedding, boating on a lake, safari hunting in Africa, etc. The guy had a picture of a Zebra he took down. I was impressed and swooning a bit.
We tried to figure out a good time to meet, but it always conflicted with his schedule or mine. After a while, he went completely dark. We made plans to meet one Sunday night, but when that weekend came, I got no response to the many text messages and phone calls I made. “I can only assume you lost interest already… Not sure if I did something, but I’ve sent you msgs with no response. Was excited to meet you… If I’m wrong, you know how to reach me.”
An entire week went by, and I heard no word from him. I removed him from my favorites on Grindr so I wouldn’t have to look at him every time I pulled it up. Of course, that’s when he started to message me again. He apologize emphatically for not getting back to me and blamed most of it on getting a new job. I’m definitely one for giving second chances, and I though he would be a great match for me, so I agreed to meet him when I got back from my vacation.
While in Maryland, we texted periodically. We set up a date for the Sunday evening upon my return home. He picked Pier I Cafe on the Upper West Side. I took the bus into the city and hopped in a cab the rest of the way. I made my way down to the Hudson waterfront and saw him immediately. He had a very New England country club look about him. I liked it. He didn’t look like a snob, but he looked like he appreciated the finer things in life.
We both grabbed beers and tried to find somewhere to plop down. There were no tables available, so we found a cement wall to sit on. We got to know each other slowly. We talked about our jobs, our living situations, working out, college, etc. The conversation was flowing quite easily. He is an architect, which is something that has always interested me. I found it sexy. The one hangup I had with him was he turned into a total queen every time he laughed. He was a bit flamboyant. He could have sucked all the air out of the room after every laugh had we been indoors. It was extremely off-putting. I’m sure you’re all judging me as picky at this point, but it was hard to look past. I was starting to get annoyed with these guys who claimed to be masculine. It’s my one real hangup in the gay dating world, and guys self-judge this aspect of their lives VERY poorly. Basically, I’m attracted to dudes who just so happen to be attracted to other dudes as well, not some big ‘mo.
I also started to gauge the level of chemistry between us. It wasn’t exactly at its peak either. We shared a lot in common, but I could tell the attraction wasn’t there on both sides. We both passionately talked about cooking and our specialties. It was an interesting conversation. After a while, I noticed one of my friends. He also noticed me, so on one of his trips to the bar, he swung by to say hi. I introduced him to the Southern Gent and talked to him about how things were going since his marriage in Key West.
Four rounds and one basket of calamari later, it was time to go home. I gave him a small kiss on the lips and said, “We should do this again sometime.” I didn’t have such a good feeling about our chemistry as I did before the date. I was a little disappointed, but I thought maybe I needed to give him a second chance. I would leave that up to him. If he was interested, he would followup the date with a phone call. When the call never came, I knew my suspicions were accurate. I unfriended him on Facebook so I could write about my dates without feeling guilty.
I was disappointed it didn’t work out, but that was based on an assumption I made before I even met him. I would need to not get my hopes up so high before the first date. It would be the downfall of my morale if I let the bad dates and disappointment get to me…Follow @onegayatatime
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At the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
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