Posts Tagged sangria

Technical Difficulties

On the night of July 3rd, CK and I slept at his apartment. I had a beach bag packed to head to Fire Island the following day. I insisted if we were going to trek all the way out there, we needed to leave early in the morning to get a full day of it. We also decided to make an effort to come back to the city in time to view the fireworks from his rooftop. We made plans with one of my old roommates and his girlfriend. They were going to join us on his roof since he had such spectacular views of the Hudson River.

When we woke, the weather didn’t look like it was going to be the most cooperative. We checked the report, and there was a threat of thunderstorms all day long. We both agreed to nix the idea of going to the beach and decided to stay local instead. We lounged around his apartment all morning, watching TV and eating a light breakfast, all the while waiting for the rain. When lunch time rolled around, I was anxious to get out of the apartment. It still hadn’t rained, and it was shaping up to be a pretty beautiful day. While we both agreed we could have gone to the beach, we also agreed not going was nice too.

Recently, I broached the subject with him of spending habits. I realized I was spending a lot more money, especially going out to dinner. I proposed a plan to try to cook more and go out less. I didn’t want to keep spending money frivolously, and thought he was probably in the same boat. The topic was well received, and we agreed to make and effort to spend less money.

As we walked to lunch, we made a plan to grab something small and cheap. We ran a few of CK’s errands before finding a spot to grab lunch — Uncle Nick’s, a Greek restaurant in HK. This was not part of the plan. Everything was a bit more expensive than a $5 sandwich. CK reminded me of our frugal conversation, and pointed out this place was not part of the plan. However, since all the portions were larger, I pointed out that this could serve as our dinner as well. We could take the leftovers home and eat them before the fireworks. It would work out nicely since we ate such a late lunch.

This worked out perfectly. We did swing by the grocery store to grab a few snacks for his rooftop to supplement our lunch/dinner. We grabbed chips, humus, cookies and supplies to make sangria. Before digging into making sangria, we decided to check out the scene on the roof. We wanted to know what we were getting ourselves into. CK lived in a large apartment building, and the roof certainly wasn’t going to hold all the residents, especially if they were bringing guests like me. Much to our surprise, it was still fairly sparse, but we knew that wouldn’t last long.

We quickly went downstairs to gather our things so we could lay claim to a prime fireworks viewing spot. As we made sangria, I reached out to two friends who were to be joining us, but they weren’t going to be able to make it. Looked like it was just going to be the two of us. That, and his roommate and the harem of friends he gathered for the night.

We made it back upstairs in time to lay out a blanket and enjoy a drink as the sun set. I was enjoying some quality time with my man before the crowd showed up. After some time, he had to run back downstairs. Of course, he disappeared for quite some time. I was sitting there alone trying to fend for our spot as more and more people arrived. Slowly but surely, his roommate and his friends started showing up. Of course, they assumed we were holding a spot for them, so I was surrounded by them on the blanket — Still no CK. This was not how I wanted to spend the night.

Finally, he came back. By then, the roof was fairly full. Shortly after, the fireworks began. Well, at least I think the fireworks began. CK’s roommate assured us the building had a prime view of the fireworks. He informed us he’d watched them from the roof the year before. LIES! All lies! We couldn’t see the fireworks at all. Immediately, there was both a mass movement forward toward the river to get a better view and a mass exodus out of the building to head to the river. CK and I tried to maneuver the roof to gain a better vantage point. When I turned around, he wasn’t following me.

In the chaos, I wasn’t able to find him again. I looked all over, standing on planters to see over the crowd. I tried calling him, but he wasn’t answering. I assumed he went downstairs, and to be honest, I was pissed. I assumed he abandoned me in an attempt to better view the fireworks. The elevators were overrun with people. I descended the twenty-five floors until I reached the ground floor. Because I didn’t have a building access card, I was a bit trapped. My only option was to walk back up to the top floor. I tried calling and calling, but still, CK was not picking up. When I got back to the roof, I managed to find CK. I explained what happened, and he explained how he was unable to find me. I was disappointed because the romantic night I was hoping for had gone to sh*t. This would be yet another fourth of disappointment. We had a fun day together, and I really enjoyed it. But, I wanted romantic fireworks with my man for our first Fourth of July together.

When the crowd thinned out, we managed to find a decent vantage point. Of course, we got b*tched out by a girl, who after investigation we learned was not a resident of the building. Although our night wasn’t quite as romantic as it could have been, another couple was having an incredibly romantic night. A man was proposing to his girlfriend via a presentation on his iPad. It was very touching and made me realize the night was a success just being with CK. I needed to stop thinking about the perfect picture I had in my head and just go with it.

When the fireworks ended, we made our way down to his apartment. The alcohol was flowing, among other things, and all his “roommates” were already home causing a raucous. When we moved into CK’s bedroom to escape the party a bit, it slowly but surely moved into the room as well. I wasn’t thrilled. Slowly but surely, they piled in, one by one. I inched my way further and further up the bed until I was sufficiently pressed against the wall to make room for more “roommates.”

That’s when it happened. I was so incredibly disappointed. CK and I discussed in detail how uncomfortable certain situations made me, and he breached that comfort level quite drastically. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I wanted to go home. I completely shut down. He made me so incredibly minuscule by ignoring the entire lengthy conversation we’d shared about this very subject. I wasn’t exactly being forthcoming about what made me so upset. The fact that he was so clueless about why I was so upset only made it worse. He actually thought I had cheated on him and didn’t know how to tell him. He couldn’t have been further off base.

I just wanted to leave, but I knew there was no way I would be able to make it home before the sun rose in the sky with all the crowds. Luckily, everyone began to file out of the room naturally. I laid there with my back to CK crying myself to sleep. He tried to comfort me and made excuses, but it was no use. The damage was done. He knew how I felt about this, and he selfishly did what he wanted anyway. This was not how someone treats you when they love you.

My head was spinning. Because I was worried I would have to let him go, the tears streamed more and more. I’d reached the last straw. I wasn’t ready to talk about it that night because I wanted a clear head when we talked about it for the last time. That night, we’d have to go to bed with tension in the air.

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Meeting the Hatfields

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

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…

Southern Drawl was very anxious to see me. Before our last date ended, he asked me, “So, when do you get to see me again?” It was a bit egotistical, but it was also a little cute.

I had plans with other guys for the rest of the week with the exception of my volleyball game on Thursday. We agreed to do happy hour after work on Friday to get the weekend started off right. He was going to the Frying Pan, a permanently parked barge on the Hudson River that doubles as a restaurant/outdoor bar, with a group of his coworkers. Apparently, he was comfortable enough to introduce me to them.

He was already there when I made my way across town to meet him. He worked right across the street, so there was a solid crowd present from work. I found them in the crowd and pulled up a chair to the table. Everyone was very welcoming and nice. They immediately offered me a cup of sangria, and I settled in. I joined the big conversation, and Southern Drawl and I had a few side conversations not meant for the table.

I wasn’t sure to what extent he was out to his coworkers, so I played a vague roll. I didn’t show any signs of affection or do anything that would be a severe tell. I had a good time.

When everyone was ready to go, we started walking. We were heading to his apartment, but we walked with the others until they peeled off to head in separate directions. It was then I was informed that this was a big deal. None of the other guys he dated had met his coworkers. Only one or two of them knew he was gay, so this was somewhat of a public coming out. I’m sure his coworkers would put two and two together if he was inviting a man to join them for drinks. It was flattering he was willing to do that with me.

Since before I met S.D. in person, I’d learned of his incredibly flamboyant and promiscuous roommate. We talked about him to quite an extent on the walk.

I could not have been prepared for his apartment when I walked in there. It was an utter dump! His roommate was lounging on the couch when we arrived. S.D. needed to change before we went out for the rest of the evening. I chatted a bit with his roommate, and he certainly had a strong unwarranted air of superiority. We didn’t get along, but we didn’t clash either. He was a non-entity to me.

Meanwhile, I made a comment about S.D.’s shoes, and I was ripped a new one. He went off on me how expensive they were and how dare I downplay them. I was dying to get out of that apartment, and S.D. was dragging his feet.

He told me his friends from back home in the south were going to be out on the Lower East Side since one of them worked at Brother Jimmy’s. We decided to pick a place in the neighborhood to grab dinner before drinking our faces off. We found a nice Italian restaurant, Pete’s Tavern and shared a delicious pleasant meal. Things were starting to feel comfortable with him. All the awkwardness melted away. We had great conversation and kept each other on our toes. The conversation was great, but I began to wonder if I was sexually attracted to him. When he sent pictures to me, I found him to be quite attractive, but since being with him, I didn’t get excited or aroused by him. We hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, but I wondered if when I came to that bridge, would I even want to cross it. On top of that, we hadn’t discussed positions since we first spoke on the phone. He told me he didn’t have much experience in the bedroom originally. He said he never really bottomed, but he may be willing to experience it. Since then, I got a different picture learning about the long-term relationships he’d been in. I wondered if they were sexless, or was he lying. We were two tops, and that was going to pose a problem as some point.

After we finished dinner, we walked to Brother Jimmy’s to meet his friends. He was excited to introduce me to them. They’d already seen pictures of me and predicted I was a far better man for him to date than the one he just let go. They already loved me before even meeting them, so it was my game to lose.

S.D. introduced me to them, and we hit it off pretty swimmingly. His best friend, a female, pulled me aside to talk and gossip. We chatted, and she expressed how much she liked me. “You’re just the right amount of gay,” I was told. I’d always thought that about myself, but it was still interesting hearing someone say this to me. Even the friend, the girl who was working behind the bar planted a kiss on me, right on the lips. It was a pleasant surprise. I was a hit!

S.D. also told me his friend from work, “his little buddy,” was joining us. This kid was gay and even lived with S.D. on the couch for a period. They were very close and best friends of sorts. When this kid arrived, I was introduced to him. He seemed very nice, and we exchanged small talk. Almost immediately, S.D. and he separated from the group and began chatting the night away. It was obvious to me S.D. had a crush on him. I wondered if the little guy just wasn’t interested in S.D. and that was the hangup for why they weren’t together. I felt incredibly neglected. I was getting quite drunk, and that usually peaks my emotional state. I was very close to walking out the door and going home without a word but better judgment kicked in.

After we watched someone who looked like Snookie do an amazing rendition of Adele for karaoke, I was ready to go home. I was drunk, and I was trying to see past how he ignored me. Even after all I drank, the bartender charged me seven dollars.  I’m still not 100% sure why, but I asked S.D. if he wanted to come back to my place and spend the night. I think I wanted to test our sexual chemistry. I wasn’t looking for sex. Clearly that wasn’t possible in the state I was in. I just wanted to get somewhat physical with him.

We made out way back to my place and quietly made our way to my room. We climbed into bed to spoon, and I passed out quickly.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke up in the morning, we started spooning and fooling around. There was a lot of heavy petting and oral pleasuring. It wasn’t long before he was straddling my chest fondling himself. It also wasn’t long before he excited himself so much he finished right on my chest. He asked for my permission, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen almost immediately.

We lounged in bed for some time before I made us breakfast. There was a bit of a schedule for the morning, however. My parents were coming into town for Easter weekend. I needed to get him out of there before they arrived. Just as we finished eating, I got a call from my parents. They were downstairs. I told S.D. to quickly get dressed and make his way down the back stairwell. He was fine with this, and we agreed we’d chat later on the phone. I hustled him out the door and kissed him goodbye.

One minute later, I threw on flip-flops and went down to greet my parents. They didn’t make a single comment about the guy leaving my building. I had yet another celibate weekend in front of me, and this was a good thing.

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Cleaning Up

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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Smiles Returns

While returning home from alumni weekend, I sent an email to Smiles to see if we could find time to get together Sunday afternoon: “Hey dude. Let me know if you’re still up for meeting up tomorrow…” I sent it around 11:00 at night, so I didn’t expect a reply until the following day. So, when I got back to Hoboken, I asked around to see who was going out to the bar. No one seemed to be up for anything, so I went home did laundry and watched TV.

I woke the next morning to a return email from him saying, “Hey bud, yeah we can work something out. What did you have in mind?” I replied back, “Your call… Grab bite, drink, coffee, walk High Line…” Apparently, he was already out and about that morning, and he responded, “Just finishing brunch. Let’s grab cords and walk up highland. What time works?”

I was a little confused, but I was used to deciphering autocorrect text messages. “I’m assuming that cords means coffee and highland means highline… haha  I can meet you in about an hour? That work?” I responded. He replied, “Ah yes autocorrect. Let’s meet at 4:30 at Doma in west village its 7th and Perry I think.”

I was very excited but still very relaxed. I was thrilled he was still willing to see me again after the less that stellar first date, but I’ve also done a very good job of not getting my hopes up about these dates anymore. I’ve had enough bad ones to know the drill now. Yes, I’ve become jaded.

I arrived at the coffee shop and waited for him outside. When he arrived, we exchanged hugs and went inside to grab coffees. He paid for mine, which I thought was very sweet of him. He suggested we take a walk through the West Village on our way to hop up on the High Line park. As we walked, he told me about the crazy time he had the previous night at the bars and how he was a little less than 100%. He put his arm around me and explained he was afraid to postpone on me since I was so broken-hearted when he didn’t respond within the first twelve hours after our first date (in a playful way). I was a little embarrassed by my lack of patience and told him he could have postponed on me, and I completely would have understood. We had a good laugh about it.

We walked and came upon a band playing in a courtyard. We stopped to listen before continuing on to the High Line. We climbed the stairs to the elevated park and began to stroll along like everyone else. This was the third date I took up there. I could tell Smiles was really enjoying it. He is very interested in architecture and design, as am I, so we had extensive conversations about all the surrounding buildings. I found it utterly romantic when he would turn my attention to a specific building by putting his hand on my shoulder to talk about a specific element. We talked the entire span from 14th street to 34th street. We even passed Joan Rivers and her small entourage while walking. When we reached the top, we walked back down to street level.

As we walked back downtown, we talked more. I learned he attended three different Burning Mans in the past. Just that Friday, I watched a movie shot by a bunch of guys who attended this years. It looked spectacular, and I was highly interested in attending. He gave me some of the insider tips, and the conversation shifted to the traveling we’ve done.

As we were walking through the West Village again, he noted he’d love to grab a beer and asked if I was interested. We stepped into a nice spot that had an outdoor space in the back, Entwine. We both ordered sangria. When I mentioned I wanted to order hummus and pitas, he noted he had to cut gluten out of his diet. I was rather famished, and I think he realized this.

He originally planned to meet his ex for dinner that night, but hadn’t heard from him in some time. Since this was the case, he asked if I would be interested in grabbing dinner with him. Of course I obliged. He mentioned two spots he could think of. I agreed Extra Virgin sounded great. He warned me he was quite the regular at that spot, but I wasn’t quite sure why that warranted a warning.

I paid the tab for the sangrias, and we started to walk to Extra Virgin. The night was shaping up to be quite a date, but it was only just beginning…

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Rude Can’t Begin to Describe

When I joined OKCupid, I had high hopes for the site. My ex, Broadway, told me to check it out. I had never heard of it before, but I was certainly willing to give it a shot.

When I joined, I made a profile and began poking around. I was very disappointed with the talent on the site. I found it very hard to find someone I wanted to send a message. I decided to take a passive role. As people viewed my profile and sent me messages,  I sorted through the interested men to see if there was mutual interest on my end.

One guy started messaging and seemed to be compatible with me. He wasn’t the best looking guy, but he certainly had something different going for him. I decided to give him a shot. We started chatting on OKCupid, and quickly moved the conversation to the phone. He texted periodically, but mostly, he called at night before going to bed. We sparred playfully quite a bit. Our exchanges were fun, but periodically, he would push the envelope too far, and I would simply shoot him down.

As time passed, I wondered why he continued to call. I learned he wrote a Broadway show to be released in the spring and was contacting some very big names to be the female lead. He was in line for a lot of success, but at the time, he was working out of his apartment and living a below average lifestyle. We talked a little about me and what I do, but we didn’t get much into hobbies and what we do for fun. He was being elusive on those details.

I enjoyed the phone calls and the attention, but every time I hung up the phone, I would say to myself, “Why is he still calling me?” There were a few things we had in common, but I didn’t feel I was really what he was looking for. It seemed he was looking for a guy who would roll over at the snap of his fingers. I certainly wasn’t filling that position. I was actually beginning to look at him as great practice to be more confident and demand more from a man who was interested in me. When the conversation switched to sex, we discovered we were both tops. Even with that knowledge, he took every opportunity to ask me for a picture of my a$shole. I adamantly declined to fulfill that request. I made myself perfectly clear that was not something he would be receiving from me.

When he didn’t drop the request in every phone conversation following, I got quite heated. I told him if that was all he was interested in, he was barking up the wrong tree. I wasn’t on OKCupid to find a guy to have sex with. I was looking for more substance. If that was all the substance he had, he needed to move on. I think he finally got it. But, I also think he thought he was just being playful, and I was overreacting.

It was also getting to the point where I needed to meet this guy. We talked for over a week, and I wasn’t going to invest any more time if he wasn’t worth it. He was already on the fence in my mind — 50/50. But, I was willing to give him a chance, even though the odds were not in his favor.

We planned to go out on Saturday for drinks and a bite to eat to celebrate the casting of his lead female. Over text and phone conversations Saturday morning, I told him I would head into the city and meet him at 6:30. When he responded at 5:15 requesting we do 6:00, I sprang into action to get ready. On the walk to the PATH, I texted and called constantly. He wasn’t responding. I wasn’t about to get on the PATH until I knew where I was going and where I should get off.

I stopped at Starbucks and ordered a latte. Luckily, I grabbed my coat before I left my apartment, because I would be sitting on a park bench outside the PATH station for the next 45 minutes. I continued to call, until finally, he picked up the phone. He shouted, “Geez! I’ll call you back! Give it a rest!”

I was so insulted. No man was going to speak to me that way and get away with it. I was already passing the time by talking to guys on Grindr, and one even went on to invite me out for a beer. I should have abandoned my original plans at that point and had the beer. The fact that he continuously pursued me boosted my ego so much it became the only thing keeping me to those plans. Sad, I know.

Instead of grabbing the beer with the guy on Grindr, I went to The Melting Pot, where my friend is a bartender. I figured I’d grab a glass of wine and give this as$hole a few minutes to get back to me about our plans for that evening. I was going to give him a second chance, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with talking to me like that.

When he finally called, he didn’t acknowledge the time passed since we planned to meet. He also didn’t acknowledge barking at me over the phone. I was very short with him and called him on it. He didn’t apologize. His response: “Well, you can either come buy me a glass of sangria to celebrate my casting, or you can go home and cry about it.” I was flabbergasted! He had some nerve! Now, I was going on this date out of spite. I was going to be spectacular and then shoot him down.

When I arrived, he stood to greet me with a hug. He commented on how attractive I am — better than my pictures — and how he would have put more effort in if he only knew. He was laying it on thick. I could tell he was very attracted to me. I thrived on it. With every word, he gave me more power. He was actually less attractive than his pictures. I wasn’t interested in the slightest, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t use the date as target practice. I shot him down at every attempt. He made a few lewd comments, and I made my disgust apparent. When he made a cavalier comment about hitting the restrooms as a joke, I went off on him. I asked if that sort of thing normally worked for him. I pointed out how much of a negative effect it had on me. This guy was truly a creep. Ironically, I was having so much fun shooting down a guy who was pursuing me, when I should have been looking forward to the date’s end.

I found out he was late for the date because he was arguing with someone on the phone. He claimed he barked at me not knowing who it was and apologized. If he wasn’t rude enough, he spent 70% of the date texting on the phone. The argument wasn’t over. He didn’t even have the decency to give me his undivided attention.

When the date ended, we began to walk towards his apartment and the PATH train. When we reached a crossroad, he pulled me in for a close hug. Luckily, I didn’t have to kiss him, as he was recovering from a cold. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t trying to pull me closer than is comfortable. He started to make a comment about my being arouse, but I pointed out to him how much that wasn’t the case. I was blunt. “I could not be less aroused right now.” And, after a little more conversation, we parted ways.

I was shocked when he followed up with a text stating his desire to meet again. I responded, “That most likely will not be happening. We have very different priorities, and you were exceptionally rude.” He questioned how he was rude, and I decided it wasn’t even worth my time to recount the scenarios. He truly was an as$hole.

The best part of this was that I walked away unscathed. I actually had fun being blunt yet dignified. I wanted him to want me so badly, so when I shot him down, he’d realize what he was missing. I think I was successful considering the texts continued for some time…

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2 Gay MadMen

Out of the entire roster I built before I went away, I had the highest hopes for one in particular. His picture on Grindr was of his face. What a nice change from the torsos that scattered my screen. And, not just any face. This man was sexy. He had dreamy eyes and perfect lips. I couldn’t wait to meet this man in person.

When we first started chatting on Grindr, I favorited him. I noticed one night he was very far away and asked where he traveled to. I learned he lives in my old neck of the woods in Pa. He explained he lived out there, worked in the city, and one or two nights a week, he would buy a hotel room so he didn’t have to commute. I suggested we grab a drink sometime. “Def man. I’m game for that,” he responded. And with that he gave me his phone number.

We were unable to set up a time for drinks before I went on vacation. He was polite enough to hit me up while down there to see how I was doing. One night, while texting each other, he decided to pick up the phone and call me. I couldn’t answer because I was riding in the car with my family, but he left a very sweet message. He gained a lot of points in my book for calling that night! It meant a lot to me.

When I returned to Hoboken, we finally set up a night to grab a small bite and drinks together. I already liked his style. He suggested tapas because if the date didn’t go well, we weren’t stuck together He booked a hotel room for Wednesday night, and I picked a restaurant. He was my fifth date in four days.

The night of our date, he was running late. He apologized and explained this was standard protocol for him. I told him not to worry about it because I was usually the one running late. To kill time while I waited for him, I strolled through Eatily. When the time for out date was approaching, I walked to the restaurant to get us a table. When I arrived at Boqueria in the Flatiron District, there were about fifteen people standing in the rain waiting to go inside. I didn’t panic. I tried the backup restaurant, Sala 19, but they had a 45 minute to hour wait. I called (Let’s call him “Pillow” since his lips looked like two little pillows I couldn’t wait to smooch), and told him of the predicament. I also explained I would be trying to find a new place and would meet him on the street corner. I did some research and found two other places. The first couldn’t seat us for another two hours. The second, Aldea, had no wait. We met and shook hands, I suggested we go there since it was two blocks away. He agreed.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I almost suggested we leave. It had awful ambiance, and NO ONE was there. It already made the date feel awkward. They sat us upstairs, and we both ordered drinks. When my sangria arrived, it was clear, served in a Tom Collins glass and topped only with green grapes. I don’t think it was sangria, but it was good, so I drank it. We both struggled to find anything on the menu we liked. I am NOT a picky eater, but this menu was a challenge! I suggested we just leave after the first drink and find a bar. He said we should stay and we ordered the almonds and olives plate, as well as a shrimp appetizer. We talked about the possibility of hitting up a bar after dinner as well.

The conversation started off dry and forced. This date I had such high hopes for started off on the wrong foot. I didn’t know how to rescue it. I never realized how much the setting could ruin a date, however, we were able to find some common ground. We both worked in advertising. I was happy I never asked him about it before, since it gave us something to talk about to break the tension.

When we finished, they brought us chocolates, we paid and went back out into the rain. We started walking up Broadway towards my office and somewhat towards the hotel he was staying at. As we passed the Ace Hotel, I stopped him and asked if he still wanted to get another drink or did he need to get back to his hotel. I was giving him an out. He said he’d be down for another drink, so I suggest the Breslin at the Ace Hotel. I had been there many times and really enjoyed the vibe there. I was also glad he wanted to continue hanging out with me.

There were no seats available at the bar, so we found a nice plot of space in the corner to lean against the wall. Once we had our drinks, things got a lot more relaxed. I said, “We should have just come straight here. That place was awful!” He told me I shouldn’t worry about it. We stood there for another round. With every drink, the mood got lighter, and I became more attracted to him. After the second round, he asked if I minded if he have a cigarette. I said, “Only if you don’t mind giving me one.” We stepped out into the rain and found a doorway to huddle in to smoke. We talked some more and the body language was very positive. I debated if I should have kissed him right then and there. But I didn’t of course.

We went back inside and managed to find two stools. We sat facing each other and he began to lean in much more when we spoke. His body language was becoming more and more provocative with each sip. After that round, we both had another cigarette. When we returned this time, the only space available was at the bar. I ordered us another round of drinks and an order of fries considering we basically had olives for dinner.

I was having a good time with him. He was charming, had a good job, family oriented, very good-looking, mature, etc. It was about time I finally had a good date. The whole date, all I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss him. Around 11:30pm, we finished our drinks and closed out the tab. We spent the last four hours together. I wasn’t sure we’d make it past the first forty minutes when we stepped into the first restaurant.

I told him I would walk him to his hotel since it wasn’t far from my office, and I had to return there to get my things. When we got to the front of the hotel, I expressed to him how much I enjoyed the night first verbally, and then physically. I leaned in for a kiss and got exactly what I was hoping for all night. I pulled back and said, “And a good kisser too. It’s a shame I waited til the end of the date for that!” With that, we started kissing and embracing more while the doorman stood watching us. Finally, we both pulled back. As I started to walk away, I turned back and said, “We do this again? Soon!?” He nodded in agreement.

I walked away with the biggest smile on my face. What started out bad, ended really well. I couldn’t have been happier. On my way home, I texted him telling him: “I had a great time with you tonight!” He responded, “More to be had. I had a great time and now that we met, I can loosen up a bit.” Then we got into the conversation of the compatibility of our astrological signs. Then he said, “Yea. I wanted to bring you up, but it’s a first date. I try to be reserved. LOL Did I want to? No. But, I was good.”

I was thrilled. This meant he was really attracted to me and wanted to start something real, not just a hookup. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, nor did I want to put all my eggs in one basket, so I didn’t toss the roster out just yet. But, I certainly had a front-runner.

That weekend, I texted him a few times, but got no response. I wasn’t thrilled with that sign. I questioned if it was just the alcohol talking after our first date, but I didn’t panic. I would see if we could meet during the week again when Monday rolled around…

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