Date #28: Follow Through

Despite the fact that Charlie and I are doing swimmingly, I've decided that I'm going to go on the 100 dates regardless--and fend off an exclusive committment until after I've finished my goal. I don't know why, but I really want to follow this through till the end. And since Charlie's not in any rush to keep things between he and I, I don't think it'll be a problem.

Part of the reason I've come to this conclusion is a recent meeting with Brian's new roommate--Turner.

I was picking up Bri-Bri to go to our daily lunch at our newly established place of choice--Johnny Rockets. I get the egg salad, he gets the burger, and I whine the entire time about him needing to stop seeing Chef guy so we can go back to the Nordstrom's Cafe.

While Brian was throwing on his shoes, this adorable redhead walked out of Scooter's old room. He asked Brian something about an extra set of keys, but then our eyes locked and I'm not entirely sure he heard the answer.

Brian introduced the two of us and then we were off to get some delightful diner food.

ME: Don't tell me you haven't noticed.
BRIAN: Noticed what?
ME: That Big Red is a hottie.
BRIAN: I'm not into redheads.
ME: It really makes that big of a difference what color hair someone has?
BRIAN: Isn't it enough for you that I'm already juggling Peter and the Chef?
ME: A Chef, a Stripper, a Candlestick Maker. What's the big deal?
BRIAN: I've decided I need to stop doing this. I just need to pick one.
ME: So pick Peter. He's the one who puts up with all your shenanigans.
BRIAN: I'm going to ignore the fact that you just said 'shenanigans' and inform you that Chef is much more sophisticated than Peter.
ME: Is that because Chef minces garlic for a living and Peter drops it like it's hot?
BRIAN: It's not just that. It's all about self-presentation.
ME: We've had this convo a hundred times. Let's skip to something interesting.
BRIAN: This is your segway into asking if I can fix you up with Turner, isn't it?
ME: We could cover the Middle East first.
BRIAN: Just eat your egg salad, Raggedy Ann.

And so I was set up on a date by Brian with his cute new roommate for the following night. Apparently Turner is new to town, and he thought a nearly blind date was a great way to start off his time in Rhode Island.

We rendevouzed at Tazza--I figured Turner would appreciate the red decor.

The conversation was going really well, and somehow we got into the topic of following things through--surprise, surprise considering what I started the entry with (don't forget kids, I'm an English major, I know how to foreshadow).

ME: I've been working on a project now, and it's kind of this semi-silly social experiment, but I'm still really into seeing it through to the end.
TURNER: Are you going to, like, rehabilitate homeless men or something?
ME: Um, not exactly.

Unless I need the numbers.

TURNER: I think that's cool. I've been working on a little experiment of my own.
ME: Oh really? Can I ask what?
TURNER: I've been celibate for three years.

It's funny. I hear that word so infrequently I actually thought he might be talking about a kind of postage stamp.

ME: That's...wow.
TURNER: Yeah. Have you ever tried it?
ME: Um, I did for a little while last year.
TURNER: What happened?

I got so pent up and frustrated that I thought I was going light myself on fire and run down the street screaming "Toledo Surprise!"

ME: It just didn't work for me.
TURNER: You would be amazed what happens when you really stick with it.
ME: So you just don't have sex?
TURNER: Oh, it's way deeper than that. Not having sex was just the first year. After that I stopped ejaculating all together.

Well, there's howdy-doo.

ME: Is there any reason you decided to do this?
TURNER: Just to see if I could.
ME: Gotcha.
TURNER: What about you? Why are you conducting your social experiment?

I want to get a book deal and a relationship talk show on syndicated television.

ME: Same reason.

After dinner we went walking around downtown. Turner turned out to be quite the free spirit. He's the guy in movies who walks in the fountain in Central Park. You know, the Kate Hudson character from Almost Famous. Goldie Hawn in pretty much anything. (I guess it's no secret that Kate Hudson and Goldie Hawn are related when you think about it.)

This reached its peak when we were on our way back to Turner and Brian's place and he insisted we get cookie dough.

ME: You want to make cookies?
TURNER: No, I just want to eat the dough.

Not that unusual.

When we got back to the apartment Brian was in his room with Chef and from the sounds of it they were making grilled veal.

TURNER: Hey, you want to throw cookie dough at them?
ME: Um...I think the semen is building a blockage in your brain.
TURNER: Huh?
ME: I have no interest in seeing Brian and Iron Chef Homo go at it.
TURNER: We could close our eyes and throw it.
ME: Hey, he's your roommate. You want to live with that--
TURNER: Good call. I have a better idea anyway.

Turner went into his room and came out with a giant supersoaker.

TURNER: Open the door.
ME: I'm afraid I can't do that, Turner.
TURNER: Kevin, I haven't had sex in three years, and even though I'm okay with that, the opportunity to ruin other people's sexual experiences is something I never pass up. Now, open the door.

So I did.

Turner ran into the room yelling something to the effect of Xena's "Ki-Ki-Ki!!!" I heard Brian yell and then the sound of the supersoaker going into full effect. Chef ran out of the room with a pillow covering his wobbly bits. He seemed to be laughing, but Brian on the other hand was running around his room screaming at the top of his lungs while Turner followed after him continuing to hose him down.

BRIAN: THAT DOES IT!

Brian ran into Turner's room wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, and came out with an even bigger supersoaker.

TURNER: I didn't load that one, jackass!
BRIAN: I did it while you were gone, fruitface!
ME: Have you guys done this before?
BRIAN: Are you kidding? He's done this every night since he's been living here.
ME: I guess you come up with your own entertainment when you don't--
TURNER: Suck it down, Los-ah!

They proceeded to run around the apartment for the next ten minutes while Chef hid in the bathroom and I sat on the couch covering myself with throw pillows.

Once the boys were done playing, we all sat down to some cookie dough.

BRIAN: So how did your date go, boys?
ME: I thinkwe might be better friends than anytyhing else.
TURNER: I concur. Especially since you're clearly a sex maniac.
ME: I am not!
BRIAN: When was the last time you had sex?
ME: Okay, ask me when the last time I had sex before that was.
TURNER: Bingo.
BRIAN: You's a ho.

I still wanted to explore the issue a little bit more.

ME: Can I ask you something, Turner?
TURNER: Shoot.
ME: Don't you ever feel...
TURNER: Needy?
ME and BRIAN: Yes.

At this, Turner took my hand in his and ran his finger up and down my palm while staring directly into my eyes.

TURNER: I need for every little.

Then from the bathroom we heard--

CHEF: Is it safe to come out now?

Turner and I laughed. Brian got up to let Chef out.

BRIAN: Great. The mood is effectively killed for the night.

Turner asked if he could put his head on my shoulder while we ate, and I said sure. We ended up just sitting like that enjoying each other's company. It was nice, and I could see what Turner was trying to say. There's so much more to enjoy in another person besides sex.

FRIEND: F**k that noise!
ME: I'm serious. It's nice to just hold someone sometimes.
FRIEND: That depends on what you're holding.
ME: You know what? I bet even you would benefit from more intimate moments and less strictly physical encounters.
FRIEND: Yeah, and then I can learn to make tea and knit sweaters.
ME: Don't make fun of me just because I've been enlightened to a deeper kind of love.
FRIEND: How deep are we talking?
ME: You know what? I think I can learn something from Turner. I might try celibacy again.
FRIEND: Oh God, the last time you tried celibacy you were more out of control than Nicole Ritchie in a Ponderosa.
ME: I think it'll be something good for me to follow through on.
FRIEND: Don't you have enough hoo-hahs out there on the world wide web?
ME: You mean blogs?
FRIEND: Don't try to confuse me with techno mumbo gumbo.
ME: You mean mumbo jumbo?
FRIEND: Now I'm confused.

I really am determined to give this celibacy thing another shot. Now that I'm older and more mature maybe it'll work out better.

Now, I just have to tell Charlie.

Date #27: 2 Fast, 2 Serious

What does a gay man bring to a second date?

A Whitney Houston cover band and a really liberal Unitarian preacher.

...Just kidding.

The point I'm trying to make is that often gay men move too fast for my liking.

So when Charlie uttered the "L" word--not lesbian, the real one--I was more than a little concerned.

BRIAN: Did he say he loved you or that he was falling in love with you?
ME: Falling in love.
BRIAN: So he's not there yet?
ME: Yeah, I guess not. Is there someone I can call to catch him before he reaches the finish line?

Brian and I were enjoying a rather lousy lunch at the pasta no-show--Smokey Bones. Due to Brian finally getting a date with the chef from the Nordstrom's Cafe he likes, we weren't able to meet there for our routine discuss-and-munch.

BRIAN: I just don't want to look like a stalker.
ME: Brian, you ate there long before you went out on a date with him.
BRIAN: Regardless, it would be awkward.
ME: As awkward as you telling him you kind of have a boyfriend?
BRIAN: I guess that would be awkward had it actually happened.
ME: Just as I thought.
BRIAN: Hey, Preachy McTsk Tsk, stick to the love convo.
ME: What do you think I should do?
BRIAN: I think you should slow the train down.
ME: But we're not even moving that fast.
BRIAN: Anytime the word 'love' comes into play before the six-month anniversary, you're moving too fast.

On this point I agree with Brian. It's not that I don't believe in love before month six, it's just that I think it's better to play it safe.

Still, I was determined to handle this the adult way. I would bring it up with Charlie at dinner that night. We were trying this cool Indian place that I had never been to before, and I prepped what I was going to say all that day.

When we got to the restaurant, Charlie seemd to be in a really good mood.

Terrific, I thought, he'll be way more willing to handle hearing that I don't have as strong of feelings for him as he has for me.

We sat down and ordered, and it was then I decided to try broaching the topic.

ME: Hey Charlie, about last night--
CHARLIE: Oh, it's the love thing isn't it?

Wow, he's good.

CHARLIE: Look, I completely understand if I freaked you out. I don't know why that just popped out of me. I guess there are things about you that I already really love, but that doesn't mean I'd give you my kidney or anything...not yet anyway...I mean, one day I could, but...oh God, now I sound like you when you get nervous.

I laughed.

ME: It's okay, I know what you mean. And there are things about you that I really really really like, but--
CHARLIE: I know, and trust me, that wasn't the big love that everyone thinks about. Just consider it a mini-love that one day might potentially grow into a big love.

I brought up my glass.

ME: Well, here's to Big Love.
CHARLIE: And to Jeanne Tripplehorn, may she win the Emmy next year.
ME: And to Charles Mee, and his talking chickens.

The toast was over, and life was good.

Until...

We arrived back at Charlie's place to find Alex sitting on the front step. He had tear stains down both of his cheeks and one of his hands was bloody. When we asked him what was wrong, he told us he had come home to find Tommy sitting on the couch with his ex-boyfriend laughing and having a great time. Apparently, Tommy had neglected to mention to Alex that he would be having company since he thought Alex would be out for the night, and Alex proceeded to cry (hence the tear stains) and punch a wall (hence the bloody fist).

He came inside and Charlie bandaged up his hand right about the same time that Tommy showed up. When asked how Tommy would know where he was, Alex said--

ALEX: I told him, you want #$%^ your ex-boyfriend? I gonna go #$%^ some of your friends, how you like that?

Leave it to Tommy to think Charlie and I would be on top of that list.

At that moment the doorbell rang.

Charlie got the door, and instantly Tommy was in the living room and right in Alex's face.

TOMMY: I CAN HAVE WHOEVER THE $%^& I WANT OVER! IT'S MY APARTMENT TOO! AND WE WEREN'T EVEN DOING ANYTHING!!!

ALEX: $%^& YOU, YOU PIECE OF #$%!!! WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK TO THAT LITTLE #$%^ SUCKING #$%* WHITE BOY, HUH? HUH?

TOMMY: HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME WHEN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH?

ALEX: I LOVE YOU TWICE AS MUCH AS YOU LOVE ME, YOU $%^&!

TOMMY: YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR #$*^ING MIND! I WOULD CUT MYSELF FOR YOU! I WOULD CUT MY HANDS FOR YOU!

ALEX: THEN CUT YOUR #$%^ING HANDS, YOU #$%^! AND CUT YOUR #$%^ WITH THEM!

TOMMY: YOU FILL UP MY SOUL! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT?

ALEX: OH MY GOD...That is so #$%ing deep.

TOMMY: Please come home, I love you. Don't do this.
ALEX: Oh my God, baby, I'm sorry I go cuckoo.
TOMMY: You're my whole world.

It was at this point they began making out on the couch in the living room for about a solid minute before they realized Charlie and I were still in the room. Then they politely excused themselves and went home.

Charlie and I ended up collapsing on the couch floor laughing. I kept repeating "Go back to that white boy! Go back to that white boy!" and he kept saying "I go cuckoo! I go cuckoo!" Then we would fake make out, which then turned into real making out, which then turned into...

Well, let's cut to some mood music.

Put on "It's Gonna Take a Miracle" if you have it.

So there we were, lying in bed upstairs--two hours later I might add--

Giggidity, giggidity

--When I said, "God, I could spend the rest of my life here with you."

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Where the $%^& did that come from?

FRIEND: It's the gay curse. Once you've looked at your mother and said 'I lick guy's tummys' everything else just comes pouring out whenever it wants to.
ME: You haven't actually said that to your mother, have you?
FRIEND: Oh honey, I save that kind of talk for my hot second cousins.
ME: I can't believe I gave him a lecture on being too serious and then came out with that.
FRIEND: It was after sex. You're allowed to say stupid things after sex.
ME: What's the stupidest thing you've said after sex?
FRIEND: Is this rocking chair for sale?
ME: I don't--
FRIEND: Well, we were on the rocking chair at the time.
ME: Ah, of course.

Charlie just looked at me and smiled.

CHARLIE: Good to know it's not just me who's impulsive.
ME: Gimme a sec, and I'll cut my hands for you.

He laughed...and we fell asleep.

Date #26: Hopeless (At Being) Romantic

I've always thought of myself as the academic type.

When I watch movies, even when I want the couple to get together, I always cringe at any romantic dialogue.

For some reason, the idea of romance just makes me cringe.

And that doesn't mean I don't know how to be romantic.

You can't watch Audrey Hepburn movies religiously your whole life without picking up a few pointers on how to woo someone.

But when Charlie suggested we should do a romantic dinner date, I was more than a little apprehensive.

ME: I just get really uncomfortable by the thought of candles and mood music and stuff.
BRIAN: You'd rather just get right to the boinking?
ME: That's not what I'm saying.

I'd begun to think that Brian and I should try out other restaurants aside from Cafe Nordstrom, but two things killed this suggestion. One, a lunch at Cheesecake Factory nearly ended in a gay bashing when I realized Brian and I were discussing the upcoming gay storyline on Nip/Tuck while a table of NRA members was behind us. (I know they were NRA members because they had jackets--no word of a lie.) I know this begs the question--Who the hell told the NRA to eat at Cheesecake Factory? The place has 'cheesecake' and in its name, how could you perceive that as being conservative?

The second reason we were back at the NC was one of the chefs there. Brian was developing a huge crush on him.

ME: Don't you have enough boy trouble?
BRIAN: I just think he's cute. I'm not going to pursue it.
ME: So you're not going to give him your number?
BRIAN: I don't really consider that 'pursuing it.'
ME: What about you and Peter?
BRIAN: We're on another break.
ME: How did that happen?
BRIAN: He said, 'Brian, I want to go on break.'
ME: Did anything bring this on?
BRIAN: Probably when I told him about the crush I have on Chef guy.
ME: Yup, that'll do it.

Chef Guy actually stopped by our table to see how we were doing.

Great, Chef Guy, encourage the madness.

BRIAN: So, you're tense about putting on some Yanni and lighting a few votives?
ME: I just don't see why romance is required in a relationship.
BRIAN: Um, so that the relationship doesn't die?
ME: Is that why your relationship died?
BRIAN: Touche.
ME: That wasn't really a touche, but thank you.
BRIAN: Why don't you just explain how you feel to Charlie?
ME: Because who would want to date someone who's incapable of being romantic?
BRIAN: Maybe one of the guys who sat behind us in the Cheesecake Factory?
ME: Remind me to stop at Borders. There has to be books on stuff like this.

Turns out there are tons of books on stuff like this.

Unfortunately all of them are hetero-centric.

BRIAN: This is so prejudice!
ME: Brian, just because there are no books here on romance mano-e-mano style, that doesn't make Border's prejudiced. It just means there probably isn't a lot of material out there.
BRIAN: Oh my gosh, we should totally write a book then! We could make a fortune. It'll be all about romancing your partner.
ME: Yeah. We can call it What To Do If You Get to Date #2.
BRIAN: I think it's a great idea.
ME: Thanks, but I've already got enough writing to do.

I ended up deciding on the classic "Make Your Man a Fancy Italian Dish, Put It on A Fancy Table Cloth, and Keep the Lighting Low" approach.

When Charlie got to his house after work the following day, he found quite a surprise.

Namely me, with a failed attempt at a'lio at my side, a newly stained tablecloth from where I had spilled the olive oil, and utter darkness.

CHARLIE: Kevin?
ME: You really need to invest in a dimmer switch.

Charlie hit the lights to find me sitting at the table eating Domino's pizza.

CHARLIE: What happened?
ME: I suck at romance. That's what happened.

Charlie threw the tablecloth in the laundry, dumped out the a'lio, and got plates for the cheesy bread (you can't get Domino's without getting the cheesy bread).

Then he sat down and put his hand over mine.

CHARLIE: It's the thought that counts.
ME: Really?
CHARLIE: Well granted, an actual meal would have counted more simply by existing but thoughts do score some points.
ME: Part of me thinks I subconsciously failed at this just because romance makes me uncomfortable.
CHARLIE: If it makes you so uncomfortable why did you attempt it?
ME: Because you wanted a romantic dinner.
CHARLIE: Kevin, my idea of a romantic dinner is one that doesn't come in a carton of some sort, and even then I'm negotiable. What gave you the impression that I was so high-maintenance?
ME: You're just a really sweet guy and I thought you'd be into all that romance stuff.
CHARLIE: I am, but I'm more into all that 'Kevin' stuff. And if that romance stuff isn't you, then that's not what I want.
ME: Someone should bottle you, you know that?
CHARLIE: See? Now that's romantic.

I gave him a big smile and wondered exactly how many more times I would able to screw-up before he would be able to tell that I'm just a big dork whose only real skill is being able to name the entire new original cast of The Mickey Mouse Club.

FRIEND: Honey, I'm with you. I hate all that sappy stuff.
ME: It's not that I hate it. Being a child of divorce, I just wasn't exposed to a lot of romance between my parents. I considered it a step in the right direction when they let their restraining orders lapse.
FRIEND: No wonder you can't handle getting all googly-eyed.
ME: I still want to try though. I'm going to start with something simple.
FRIEND: Long walks on the beach?
ME: I was thinking more along the lines of full-body erotic massages.
FRIEND: Oh my God, I'm tearing up.
ME: Why?
FRIEND: Because I've taught you so well.

So Charlie and I ate our Domino's pizza and watched some television, and not a single overly melodramatic statement was uttered. Well, except for--

CHARLIE: Is it crazy that I think I'm falling in love with you?

Oh Christ...

Date #25: Ultimatum (Pts. 1 and 2)

I knew it would come to this.

At a recent dinner with Connor, I looked up from my penne to realize he was going to drop the "U" bomb--

Ultimatum.

CONNOR: I just really feel that it's time we made something out of this.

Like what? A spice rack?

ME: Connor, why can't 'this' just be 'this' for a little while longer?
CONNOR: Kevin, I'm not as young as you are, okay?
ME: You're four years older than me!
CONNOR: Some people would say that's a lot.
ME: Then have those people talk to Hef.
CONNOR: Look, there's a lot of goals I want to accomplish in my life before I turn 30, and one of them is starting a family.

Oh Christ...

ME: I want a family, too. But I've been looking forward to my 20's since I was 7, and I'm not going to give them away to domesticity.
CONNOR: How are you so sure that you're even going to live to the end of your 20's.
ME: I'm sorry, is this where I file the restraining order? Cause you just went creepy on me.
CONNOR: I'm just not one for putting things off, okay?
ME: So this is one of those 'No day but today' things?
CONNOR: I guess you could say that.
ME: Well I believe that living for today often means wasting a tomorrow.
CONNOR: Kevin, the last thing I want to do is waste a tomorrow.

God, how did things end up getting so poetic?

Whenever I'm faced with any kind of stress, I either do one of two things. I eat Ben & Jerry's ice cream or I watch Bravo for hours on end.

Cut to me two hours after dinner eating Marsha Marsha Marshmallow and watching Million Dollar Listing. I even called Brian for emotional support.

BRIAN: If you're calling for emotional support, I'm going to be completely worthless to you.
ME: Nordstrom's tomorrow for a rehash?
BRIAN: You're on.

In the meantime, I needed to get out of my apartment. Unfortunately, nights in Providence are never filled with that much activity. I ended up stopping at a club just to be surrounded with loud music and rampant homosexuality.

It was while standing there, not drinking, and taking in the atmosphere that I realized--I really don't want to be here.

And I didn't just mean at that particular club. I meant in any club, bored, and staunchly resisting committing myself to a happy life.

You ever just have one of those moments where you step back from yourself and go "Screw this"?

Yeah, that was my moment.

I informed Brian of my epiphany the following day at the Cafe.

ME: ...So I left the club and now I'm a new man.
BRIAN: Bullshit.
ME: What do you mean 'bullshit'?
BRIAN: Nobody just changes in a split second like that. It's not like you went on Oprah.
ME: I don't need Oprah to change my life!
BRIAN: Have you told Charlie about your decision to commit to Connor?
ME: No, but I plan on doing that today.
BRIAN: Looking forward to it?
ME: Like a gym class in high school.

I was actually going to be meeting Charlie at the bookstore downstairs as soon as lunch with Brian was done. He was waiting for me in the coffee shop--and had even bought me an Oreo concoction. This was not going to be easy.

We started talking and I found myself drifting off as I was looking at him. He's cute, sweet, funny, and he treats me with an enormous amount of kindness and respect, but then again, I could say the same thing for Connor. It was either the caffeine in the Oreo Splash or my nerves, but Charlie could tell something was wrong. When he asked, all I could manage to get out was--

ME: I'm not sure what I want right now.
CHARLIE: So you're saying you don't want to keep seeing me?
ME: No, I'm saying I don't know if I can commit to you right now.
CHARLIE: Well...that's okay.
ME: But eventually it's not going to be okay.
CHARLIE: No, it really will be.
(Pause.)
ME: Are you serious?
CHARLIE: Yeah. I mean, I don't need a guy to complete my life. It would be nice having someone to share stuff with and everything, and it would be even nicer if that person was you, but I'm not biting my fingernails off until it happens.

I looked down at my fingernails and felt ashamed.

CHARLIE: I like how things are now. There's no need to rush anything. We haven't even known each other six months yet.

And suddenly, another epiphany.

I called Connor that night to explain to him that I just wasn't ready to settle down yet, and that even though one day I would be completely able to--

VOICE: Hello?
ME: Hi, is Connor there?
VOICE: Uh...no. Who's this?
ME: This is Kevin.
VOICE: Kevin who?
ME: Who is this?
VOICE: Um, this is his boyfriend.
ME: Very funny. Is he there?
VOICE: I'm not trying to be funny.
ME: He doesn't have a boyfriend.
VOICE: As of this afternoon he did. You must have been the guy who took too long to make up your mind. Later.

Click.

Connor called back several times that evening, but I didn't answer. When I finally checked my voicemail there was something on there about him deciding that he wanted a guy who would blah blah blah and so he was with Mr. Voice and maybe it would be better if we didn't see each other for a little while until he could figure out this new relationship and that after that we should definitely be friends.

FRIEND: Fuck that noise.
ME: It's okay. After all, I was going to decide to pass him up.
FRIEND: Still, who knew he had a boy on the side?
ME: In fairness, I did too.
FRIEND: Are you trying not to scream out obscenities?
ME: With all my might. I mean, I was basically going to do to Charlie what Connor did to me, but somehow it all just seems--
FRIEND: It seems like when what you were going to do is reflected back on you--
ME: I'm really glad I didn't do it.
FRIEND: I still think you should leave a bag of semen on his front door.
ME: Where the hell would I get a bag of semen?
FRIEND: Just be there tomorrow when the FedEx guy shows up.

The thing I dislike the most about dating is that you can get along with someone really well, but if all they're looking for is a match, then you run the risk of losing them. It's funny how when you look back on your life--even one that's only consisted of a few years of dating--you remember so many great people who just fell by the wayside because a relationship wasn't in the cards. Because the hardest thing to get over is disappointment.

On a lighter note, I just saw the FedEx truck pull up. Does anyone know of a nearby sperm bank?

Date #24: Another Dinner Party

Believe it or not, I was actually really excited about another Charlie Dinner Party.

It was going to be the same group as last time, except now Brian and Peter were a couple, and Tommy and I had done everything except declare open war on each other.

I was already wrong on one count.

BRIAN: Peter and I aren't dating anymore.
ME: Does this have anything to do with your infatuation with Michael?
BRIAN: I wouldn't call it an infatuation.
ME: Sorry. Does this have anything to do with your strong interest in someone who's not right for you?
BRIAN: Yeah, it had a little to do with that.

When Peter found out that Brian was sneaking dates with Michael (Army Guy) on the side, he decided to cut him loose.

I don't blame him.

Dating one guy seriously and then another on the side is...

Okay, I'm a pot. He's a kettle. I get it.

I showed up at the dinner party with scones--sort of like bread, but gayer. Charlie gave me a big kiss at the door and promptly instructed me to stir the linguini.

Gotta love the guy a little, right?

Peter was the next to arrive. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and asked me how Brian was doing. I told him he could ask Brian himself.

PETER: Brian's coming tonight?

Oh Christ...

Apparently Charlie had forgotten to inform Peter that his recent ex was going to be making an appearance at the gathering tonight.

That bee was still buzzing around when the doorbell rang and Tommy walked in, up the stairs, and right into the bathroom. Alex was right behind him.

ALEX: He's been sick all day. I think bug.
ME: You think he has a bug?
ALEX: No I think something bugging his stomach.
ME: Maybe it's a bug.
ALEX: It is. It's bugging him.

Why do I keep having these conversations with people?

The sound of Tommy throwing up became background noise for the first portion of the evening. Peter was using the downstairs bathroom to fix his hair.

CHARLIE: Petie, you look fine.
PETER: I need to look better than fine.
CHARLIE: Why? Because Brian's going to be here?
PETER: I'm mad at you for this, so I would get me some gel if I were you.
CHARLIE: You look great--
PETER: Get me some Got2B or I'll hurt someone!

Wow, Peter's so neurotic. To think Brian screwed up a match this perfect.

The doorbell rang. It could only be Brian. I intended to tell him to give up on Michael and beg Peter to get back together. The poor guy was gelling for godsake's.

That's love.

I opened the door to find Brian...and Michael.

ME: I should have brought more scones.

While Brian was introducing Michael to Charlie, I ran into the bathroom to brace Peter. When he found out Brian had brought the new/old/new--whatever--man in his life, he actually seemed to take it well.

PETER: I'm not leaving this bathroom.

Well, he took it well for a gay man.

Charlie was finished with the linguini so he called everyone to dinner.

ME: Peter's not coming out.
CHARLIE: I'd say it's a little late for that, wouldn't you?
ME: I mean, he's not coming out of the bathroom.
CHARLIE: God, I didn't realize the sauce would work that fast.
ME: This is not the time to be witty. We have a hostage situation here.
CHARLIE: How do you figure?
ME: Well, Tommy's upstairs puking his guts out, which means the only usable bathroom is the one Peter's in and I really have to pee!
CHARLIE: You're so cute when you're overreacting.
ME: You think I'm cute? Watch this.

I informed Brian that Peter was taking up residence in the downstairs abode.

He then stormed into the bathroom and shouting was heard. Alex and I started piling linguini out onto plates. Michael sat down at the table and stared at his napkin as if it was going to get up and dance. I patted him on the back.

ME: None of this is really your fault so you don't have to feel uncomfortable.
MICHAEL: I just don't like confrontations.
ME: But you were in the army.
MICHAEL: I mean social confrontations. I'm fine with hand-to-hand combat.
ME: Gotcha.

Tommy finally managed to come downstairs. Alex was sitting on the couch and Tommy was laying so that his head rested in his boyfriend's lap while Alex stroked his hair. It was actually a very touching image. When Tommy spoke his voice came out in a croak.

TOMMY: I heard another blog alumnus showed up.
ME: Why don't you just rest and picture mayonnaise and relish being poured on fried butter?

With that he moaned and it appeared as if he might throw up again.

What? I never said I fight fair.

Charlie and Michael were talking at the table. The shouting in the bathroom had calmed so I decided to poke my head in and see how things were going.

Big mistake.

I ended up catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the sink while Brian...

Well, use your imagination.

I yelped.

That's right--yelped. At times, I'm a giant puppy.

I then slammed the door shut and went back to the table.

ME: I think we can start dinner.
MICHAEL: They're doing stuff, aren't they?
ME: Brian and Peter have a lot to work out.
MICHAEL: Is he giving him head?
ME: I really don't know. My vision blurred ten seconds after I opened the door.

With that, Michael got up and left right as Tommy was running towards the bathroom. Alex was trailing right behind him and when I asked him where he was going, he informed me that Tommy didn't think he was going to be able to make it to the upstairs bathroom.

It was then that we all heard a noise no human should ever have to hear.

Exhibitionism meets the stomach flu.

After things had settled down, Charlie and I were watching tv on the couch while eating the dessert he made--apple turn-overs.

Brian and Peter had left together, with Brian admitting that he had no clue what he was going to tell Michael. I asked him if this meant he was done lusting after the guy, and he said "Yes." Truth is, I think Brian just can't handle being the one jilted. Like many gay men, he needs to be the jilter...jilter...yeah, that's a word.

Alex and Tommy also called it an early night. Seeing Alex take such good care of Tommy; it sort of made me want something like that. I expressed these feelings to Charlie.

CHARLIE: Well, that's the perks of having a boyfriend.
ME: Having someone who'll rub your head when you feel like throwing up?
CHARLIE: I was going to call it TLC, but yeah, that works, too.
ME: I've just always taken care of myself. I don't know how easy it would be for me to let someone get that close.
CHARLIE: Oh don't be that guy who starts talking about having problems with letting people get close.
ME: I just mean in the sense that--
CHARLIE: You know what?
ME: What?
CHARLIE: You talk too much. Finish your apple turn-over and I'll let you lay down on my lap, and I'll rub your head. But if you ask 'Which one?' like an idiot I'll make you sanitize the bathroom right now.
ME: Deal.

Laying there with Charlie, I really felt like this must be what bliss is. Just being with someone, simply, doing simple things, and experiencing the utter complexity that is joy.

FRIEND: Rip off Meryl Streep's monologue The Hours a little more, why don't you?
ME: That was only mildly from The Hours.
FRIEND: Okay, sweetie. And is your next entry going to feature a rant from Kramer vs. Kramer?
ME: Whatever. Go find me a slender paratrooper.
FRIEND: So you're saying you want domesticity?
ME: I want to just be with someone, you know? I want things to stop being complex.
FRIEND: Complexity is life.
ME: God, whenever something sucks it's life.
FRIEND: Bingo.
ME: Charlie makes great turn-overs.
FRIEND: If that's an innuendo, I'm all about it.
ME: You know, I had another feeling while I was laying there with him.
FRIEND: Which was?
ME: I felt like...if this is it...like, if I chose this--then what would I do after that?
FRIEND: Have sex. See, that was simple. Yet joyfully complex--if you do it right.

I kept thinking about that on my way home. Most men and women in their twenties make their whole lives about finding someone else, but then when you do, what else is your life supposed to be about? I mean, I have hobbies, I have friends, things that interest me, but at the end of the day the ultimate journey of my life will be finding someone to share all that with me.

So what happens if the journey ends at 22?

What the hell kind of journey ends at AGE 22?

Maybe this is why the life expectancy of people used to be so low. Because that way you didn't have to worry about being done too fast.

FRIEND: God, I hate it when they're done too fast.

By the way, this quick FRIEND-comment-at-the-end thing to get in one last zinger has got to go.

Date #23: Pappas Fritas

I work at a library.

This is considered a respectable job.

Why is it respectable? Because it involves books and scanning things into a computer. Ergo, I'm a genius with technological skills.

In reality, a trained lemur could do my job, and probably do it quicker at times.

The pay is all right, the pressure is virtually non-existent, and no buying/selling aspect exists at all. Nevertheless, my job is a job you can proudly lay claim to.

This was not the case for my most recent date--Derek.

Derek works at a fast food place.

Now, I'm not aware what the policy is of being sued, or not being sued when it comes to blogs and whatnot, so let's just say this fast food place is the fast food place you think of when someone says "fast food place."

Yup, that one.

That's not where I met him (I gave up fast food after seeing Super Size Me) but he did bring it up pretty early on in the date. We were having dinner at Fire and Ice (not my favorite place, but I've surrendered to the fact that the gays love it) and we got on the subject of jobs.

DEREK: Most people can't believe it when I tell them I love mine.
ME: Oh really? What do you do?

Then he told me. I must have made some kind of face, although I don't know why. I don't particularly care what someone does as long as it doesn't involve a corner and women's underwear.

DEREK: It's okay. Most people give me that look. I mean, I am 24.
ME: No, it's cool. I don't know why I made a face like it matters. It really doesn't really matter.

Or does it?

I consulted with Bri-Bri the next day at Cafe Nordstrom.

BRIAN: No way would I date him.
ME: Brian, you date a stripper.
BRIAN: Yeah, but that job is associated with the idea of being hot. Working at is associated with asking people if they've tried the new healthy salad that'll still get you fat.
ME: You're right. I'd respect him so much more if people shoved one dollar bills in his briefs.
BRIAN: Hey! Boxer briefs!
ME: How are things going with him since you ignored him at the club?
BRIAN: They're fine. I explained that I'm completely over Michael.
ME: And are you?
BRIAN: Um, we're going to dinner tonight.
ME: WHAT?
BRIAN: I'm sorry, but he's completely over me.
ME: So?
BRIAN: So that negated me being over him.
ME: You're insane.
BRIAN: I'm a gay man. Wanting all our exes to regret they broke up with us is built into our system.
ME: He isn't technically your ex.
BRIAN: You see that? I don't even have closure.

Why do gay men care about such petty things?

I decided that Derek was not going to get thrown into the "Out" pile simply because he worked at what some might consider a lower-class job. After all, a good worker is something to be admired, and he doesn't just work at . He happens to be a manager. So there.

I popped in to see him at work that night just to say hi and to show that I really didn't care about where it is he works.

The place was packed. I guess America really is addicted to grease and straw-stretching vanilla shakes. At the head of the line was a little Latino boy pointing at something. Derek was trying to understand what the boy was saying.

DEREK: Papas fritas? Um...papas fritas?
LATINO BOY (MAYBE NAMED DIEGO): No.
DEREK: Um...what would you like?
MY DIEGO: No.
DEREK: What?
MY DIEGO: No.
DEREK: Papas fritas?

When Derek saw me, instead of looking jubilant that someone had come to brighten his day, he looked like I was about to drop a dead cat on the counter.

DEREK: Hey Kev.
ME: Thought I'd come say hi, but since you're busy--
DEREK: It's okay. We're always busy.

He handed the cash register off to someone else, and took his break with me. We went outside and hung out in my car. He snatched me some free fritas before he left, so we were munching on those--breaking my non-super sized diet. (Hey, I'm allowed a free snack once and again, it's not like I'm supporting the McBastards--oops, too much of a clue.)

Derek mentioned how a few people called in sick to work today, and how turn-over is really bad at his store. He said he hopes to get transferred to another store sometime next year. It was then I asked him how long he thought he was going to stay with RFFP.

DEREK: For as long as they'll let me.
ME: You mean, you don't want to work somewhere else eventually?
DEREK: Why would I want to do that? I make good money, and my job's not that bad.
ME: I just never thought of a place like that being a permanent kind of thing.
DEREK: Why? Because it's fast food?
ME: No, it's just that you're really smart--
DEREK: Really smart people can work with fast food.
ME: I know. I'm not trying to insult you.
DEREK: Great job so far.

He got out of the car and slammed the door. I took a breath and then followed after him. I told him I didn't mean to upset him, and that I'm not as big of a snob as I sound. He stopped walking away from me and turned around. He looked a little embarrassed.

DEREK: It's just--you ever have someone ask you the same thing over and over again, and you're like--God, just let me do what I want?

Can you make good money doing theater?
Are there a lot of jobs in theater?
How many starving actors are there in the world?

ME: Yeah, I think I can relate.
DEREK: I just want to keep doing what I'm doing, and when I'm ready to stop, I'll stop.
ME: I understand. Hey look, I know I've been a jerk about this whole thing, but I really would like to see you again.

He smiled, and we agreed to set up a time. Unfortunately his schedule allows him three free minutes a week. Apparently fast food workers and parallegals have really heinous job schedules. Derek says it only gets worse depending on how far up you go, but the money gets better--mostly because you're working so much. Plans for a second date went on hold.

ME: Would you ever not date someone because of where they worked?
FRIEND: The only occupations I won't date are morning dj's and Republican lobbyists.
ME: Sometimes I worry that I'm too particular about certain things.
FRIEND: There's no point dating someone if they're not a good match.
ME: Yeah, but maybe gay men in general need to be a little less picky.
FRIEND: Sweetie, all I ask is that they don't have a vagina. How much broader do you want the search to be?
ME: I just think we attach values to people based on what they do and how they appear.
FRIEND: Well of course we do! How else are we supposed to look down our noses at people?
ME: Why can't we all just like people for who they are?
FRIEND: Because you job, and how you look, and where you live all has an effect on who you are.
ME: What about those trashy people who win the lottery and move into mansions?
FRIEND: I'll thank you to leave my cousins out of this.

I asked Connor if he'd still like me if I worked at RRFP. He told me he didn't care. I reminded him that his ritzy mother might.

CONNOR: My mother used to be a waitress at a roller disco slash diner before she married my dad. Believe me, she'd have no room to talk.

With that, I'm going back to checking in books.

Date #22: Drive Around

I've never claimed to be perfect.

There are certain...quirks...I have.

For example, swing sets bother me. Don't ask me why, they just do.

Anything that lacks control makes me totally uncomfortable. Things blowing in the wind that might never stop and if they do, you won't know when. Heights--the possibility of falling. Anytime they let 50 Cent speak in public. These things just unnerve me.

But something that instantly makes me uncomfortable is the idea of "driving around."

It's a popular form of casual dating. Getting in a car with someone and just going for a drive. Some people absolutely love it. I've heard friends tell me before--

"Oh my God, we drove around for like, an hour, and just talked. It was amazing."

The very idea makes my skin break out in a rash.

I don't know why, but driving around with no intended destination and no deadline at which the driving will stop just doesn't sit well with me.

Luckily, with the rise in gas prices, driving around seemed like it was becoming a thing of the past. Now when people are driving they're going somewhere. They have a beginning and end point. They have an e.t.a. They have control.

Or so I thought...

I was scheduled to go on a date with a returning JWU student. Neither one of us was up for eating or the movies, so we went directly to the default "cheap date"--just hanging out.

Unfortunately, my roommate was going to have some friends over the apartment, so just hanging out at my place wasn't going to be an option. On the flip side, JWU kids are usually packed into their dorm rooms like food on an all-you-can-eat plate, so there wasn't much hope of having peace and quiet to talk there.

That was when my date--Aaron--suggested just "driving around."

Not being one to hide from my insanity, I let Aaron know about my drive-around-aphobia. He seemed pretty understanding.

AARON: So, as long as we're going somewhere in particular, you won't freak out.
ME: Right.
AARON: Okay, how does sitting on the Narragansett Beach Wall sound?
ME: Perfect.

What a nice guy.

So we headed to Narragansett in Aaron's car. We were having a nice little chat, and everything was going fine, when I noticed we weren't going in the right direction.

ME: Actually, I think you want 95 South.
AARON: Oh, I know. I'm just going a different way.
ME: A different way?
AARON: Yeah. I mean, it doesn't matter as long as we have a set destination right?
ME: Uh...right.

Oh God, he had found a loophole. The only problem was my psyche wasn't going to go for it. It wasn't just a matter of having a destination, it was a matter of getting to that destination as quickly as possible otherwise the anxiety kicks in anyway.

Of course that would sound even crazier than the intial explanation, so I decided to just grin and bear it--hoping that Aaron's "different way" wouldn't involve crossing over through two states.

AARON: So what do you do for fun?

I tried carrying on a conversation, but my mouth was dry. My right hand was clamped onto the door handle like I was trying to keep it from being pulled off from the outside. My eyes can't trying to focus on something inside the car and pretend we weren't moving. Just making coherent statements was becoming a chore.

ME: I like ducks and patty.
AARON: Patty?
ME: Yeah, good fun.
AARON: Who's Patty?
ME: Like from Doug, I like cartoons.
AARON: You mean Patty Mayonnaise?
ME: How far away are we?
AARON: I loved that show!
ME: That's terrific. I might throw up.

Eventually we made it to the beach, but by that time I was exhausted from all the worrying. We only stayed for about half an hour and then I asked to go home. I think Aaron could tell I was upset at his little detour.

AARON: I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk.
ME: It's fine. Really.
AARON: Maybe you should go on medication.

Easy for him to say. Do they actually make a medication for people who are afraid of long rides through the country? Most people prefer them.

After he dropped me off, I felt really bad and called to apologize to him. Nevertheless, I think the damage was done.

ME: Sometimes I think love is appreciating the qualities in someone that nobody else can.
FRIEND: You mean like my alcoholism?
ME: Well in that case I wouldn't exactly use the word 'appreciate.'
FRIEND: So you don't think this guy Aaron would be able to appreciate your scizophrenia?
ME: Probably not. Not many can.
FRIEND: I bet Charlie could.
ME: I bet Connor could, too.
FRIEND: I don't know about that. He's rich. Rich people tend to tolerate less.
ME: Is there a reason you're leaning towards Charlie?
FRIEND: Yes, because you're either leaning towards Connor or wasting your time with guys like Adam.
ME: You mean Aaron?
FRIEND: Honey, I can't even keep the names of my own tricks straight. How am I supposed to remember yours?

I did a little poll. I called Charlie and Connor, explained the "drive around" thing to them--leaving out the date part of course--and asked them what they thought:

CONNOR: I'm sure if you kept doing it you'd get used to it.
CHARLIE: Well, if you don't like doing it, you shouldn't.

I can't tell which answer was better. Both were right in some way, and Connor's seemed insensitive yet healthy, whereas Charlie's seemed kinder yet familiar to something an enabler might say.

And that's not even taking into account what the voices in my head say...

By the way, I've got another dinner party coming up soon.

That should do wonders for my mental health.

Date #21: Never Bring a Date to a Club

This is what you might call--

--A parable.

Just call me Aesop and try to follow the bouncing ball.

Cause this is one b-b-b-bumpy ride.

And it was supposed to be a simple night out at the club...

Charlie invited me to go along with him, Tommy, and Alex for some dancing and lite-debauchery. Since Brian was already going with Peter, I said yes right away. After all, nothing makes a club better than your own posse.

This was also going to be the first time Charlie and I had hung out since the somewhat disastrous dinner party at his house, and to my somewhat surprise, I was really looking forward to seeing him.

I couldn't figure out if part of that had to do with my fear of losing him should I end up committing to Connor.

Like the torches on Fire Island, So are the Gays of Our Lives.

Tommy didn't seem to happy to see when I showed up at Charlie's house for the ride over to the club. He was quickly becoming the Iago to my Othello--making Alex a very horny Latin Emilia. He had his shirt off before we even pulled out of the driveway.

About twenty minutes later we were inside the club. Tommy headed for the bar, while Brian, Peter, Charlie and I went to the dance floor and began to boogie. Alex hopped up on a box and stayed there for the remainder of the evening. I felt like asking Tommy if he should be drinking what with his little DUI's and all, but I decided tonight was going to be an evening of positivity.

Yes, I just used the word "positivity."

As I was dancing with Charlie, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned around to see Army Guy's big toothy smile staring at me.

The fact that he had now popped up in my life twice without permission made me wonder when the U.S. was going to call in the reserves.

I know, I know. I'm going to hell.

He gave me a hug and told me I looked really cute. He said it loud enough for Charlie to hear, and I caught the expression on his face before I could do something date-ish so that Army Guy would back off--like put my arm around his waist or hump his leg. Army Guy kept flirting with me, probably assuming that I was just with a group of friends who didn't mind, until I told him I should probably dance 'with my date' as I motioned to Charlie. It was then he got the picture and politely backed off.

Charlie seemed impressed by my show of loyalty, but Brian was a little miffed.

BRIAN: He didn't even say hi to me.
PETER: You know that guy?
ME: He and Brian went out on a date once.
BRIAN: We went on more than one date!

I shot Brian the "shut - up - you're - with - someone - cuter - now - and - you're - making - him - feel - awkward" look but Brian kept on talking.

BRIAN: I really should go say something to him.

It was then I pulled Brian off to the bar.

ME: Are you nuts? You're going to have a confrontation with Army Guy while you're with Stripper Guy?
BRIAN: Do you know how insulting it is that Army Guy didn't even remember me?
ME: Do you know how insulting it is to make a big deal out of not being recognized by someone when you're on a date with someone else?
BRIAN: Fine. I won't say anything.

Then I heard--

"Kevin?"

I turned around to see a blast from the past.

CONFESSION: When I was nineteen I had a semi-serious prolonged tryst with a forty-two year old. Judge me, go ahead. I was a skanky little minx back then, but at the time, I was convinced he was the older, and more sophisticated Mr. Big to my Carrie Bradshaw. Since then I've never dated anyone more than four years older than me, and I've even been known to let my favor slant more towards younger guys, but nevertheless, I have dated a forty-two year old.

And that was who was standing behind me when I turned around.

In addition, I will admit that for a--okay, wait, let me do the math--a forty-five year old, he'd aged rather well. He looked better than a lot of thirty-year olds I know, and part of me actually felt proud of being able to say that at one point I had something of a connection with this guy.

Then I remembered the time he told me he went to Studio 54 in its heyday, and suddenly I was a little less cocky.

Pardon the pun.

Dean gave me a big hug and I introduced him to Brian, who was currently giving me the "don't - even - tell - me - you've - seen - this - guy - naked" look.

We exchanged the usual chitchat, and then Dean excused himself and went back to his friends. And that was that.

BRIAN: So in terms of saggage--
ME: I will kick you in the face if you finish that sentence.

I went back to dancing with Charlie, but then a thought popped into my mind.

Dean never called me back. Somehow I'd let that little detail go during the hugging and the chitchat, but once a couple minutes had passed I remembed how upset I was at the time. (Gimme a break, back then my only potential boyfriends were Dean and the "might-be-gay" guy at Blockbuster.)

I had left Dean several messages and never heard from him, and then saw him at Pride that year with some guy who looked even younger than I was at the time.

And now he thinks he can just say hello and give me a hug like nothing happened?

That son-of-a-bitch.

I told Charlie I had to run back upstairs but on my way there I had a run-in with Tommy, who to my chagrin, was talking to Army Guy.

TOMMY: Hey Kevin, how come you never told Michael about your blog?

This bitch is going to get cut.

MICHAEL: You wrote a blog about me?
ME: Not really a blog as much as a...um...thing...like...
MICHAEL: Like livejournal?
ME: Kind of like livejournal.
TOMMY: Except a little more--satiric. Wouldn't you say, Kevin?
ME: Yeah, sort of like that. Tell you what, I'll buy you a Mongolian and make it up to you.
MICHAEL: Deal.

It's never that hard to get a gay man's forgiveness. At that moment the club version of "One Night Only" from Dreamgirls came on, and Army Guy (Michael) was off and running. I gave Tommy a look to kill, and went back on the lookout for Dean.

On the way, I ran into another one of my favorites.

SCOOTER: Kevi-rino!

Fan favorite, folks. Here he is.

Scooter, being the great big horny teddy bear that he is, ran up to me and grabbed me in what I would call a bear hug and others would call the Heimlech Maneuver. It was then that Scooter gave me the sad news.

SCOOTER: Bro, I'm moving!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

There go my ratings.

Brian confirmed the news when I found him at the bar. Scooter was off to Detroit. Apparently that was the in-place to move if you're a gay guy who hates where he's living. Past gay hot-to-move-to-spots include Miami, San Diego, and Bombay. I was slightly devastated. Scooter disgusts me in many ways, but he's also not that bad a guy. Brian was more concerned with finding a new roommate and finding Army Guy again.

BRIAN: I just want to walk by him again and give him the opportunity to say hello.
ME: I don't know why I bother with you.
BRIAN: Whatever. Why aren't you downstairs dancing?
ME: I'm looking for that guy Dean.
BRIAN: You mean the Golden Oldie?
ME: Don't try giving nicknames. Only I give nicknames.
BRIAN: Sorry. Why are you looking for him anyway?
ME: I just have...things to talk about with him.
BRIAN: You're settling a score, aren't you?
ME: Maybe!
BRIAN: Hypocrite!
ME: Yeah, call Katie Couric. I hear she does the Big Boy news nowadays.

With that I left him to check and see if Dean was at the other bar downstairs. I also checked on Charlie. I wasn't too comfortable with having all these exes and failed potentials in the same place. Charlie was trying to fend off Alex from bringing him up on the box. I figured he'd be safe with Latin Thunder for a little while.

Dean was actually on his way out when I caught up with him.

DEAN: Hey it was really good seeing--
ME: Yeah, yeah, yeah. How come you never called me?
DEAN: I'm sorry?
ME: You never called back. What's the deal?
DEAN: I think I--
ME: No, you definitely didn't.
DEAN: Well, to be honest, you were really young.
ME: I wasn't too young to have sex with apparently.
DEAN: Uh, I'm not too sure to--
ME: I love how I was too immature to sleep with but it wasn't immature of you to suddenly stop calling.
DEAN: Look, it was a long time ago and--
ME: Oh Christ.
DEAN: No, seriously, I was--
ME: Not you!

I was "Oh Christ" - ing over who was walking in the door.

Namely, Connor.

He hadn't seen me yet, so I did the adult thing.

I ran away.

Don't ask me why, I mean, it's not like I'm not allowed to be at a club with another guy, but another guy, Iago, the Golden Oldie, Army Guy, my pal, his stripper boyfriend, and a Latin wannabe Go-Go boy just seemed like too much.

I made my way back to the dance cloor contemplating what I would say to Connor when he invariably bumped into me with Charlie, but before I could think of anything the archnemesis himself tapped me on the shoulder.

ME: Yes, Tommy, what can I help you with?
TOMMY: I was just wondering--who's this Connor guy?
ME: His real name is Gonzo. I changed it to protect his identity.
TOMMY: Does Charlie know about him?
ME: No, unlike most gay men, I find talking about one boy with another tacky.
TOMMY: Oh really? Tackier than juggling guys like a circus boy?
ME: Circus Boy is actually Date #28. I just haven't gotten to him yet.
TOMMY: I was--
ME: Gotta run.

I ran right into Scooter. He informed me he was heading out because the place was dead. I looked around and couldn't see more than three inches of free space on the dance floor. When I mentioned this to Scooter he just countered by saying he was "over" clubs in this town. Apparently in Detroit clubs you have to dance while sitting on people's shoulders, gay orgies happen in the streets, and Rainbow stores are more prevalent than Starbucks.

SCOOTER: So I guess this is good-bye. I probably won't see you before I leave.
ME: Well, it's been good knowing you, Scooter.

I could see Charlie making his way over to us, and Connor finally reaching the door guy. Dean was talking to someone but kept looking my way--probably wondering why I just ran off but also glad to have me gone. Tommy was back at the bar obviously scheming some more and Michael was back on the dance floor with Brian gazing at him a few feet away while dancing with Peter. Alex remained on the box. I just needed to get out of here.

SCOOTER: Good knowing you? Oh come on, you can do better than that.

So Scooter pulled me in for the most dramatic kiss you can possibly manage unless you're acting in a World War II movie.

And it was witnessed by everyone--Connor and Charlie included.

That, my children, is why you never bring a date to a club.

FRIEND: Well I could have told you that, Mother Goose.
ME: It's Aesop. I was comparing myself to Aesop.
FRIEND: I've never read the Ali Baba story.
ME: It's not the Arabian--
FRIEND: Blah blah blah. So what happened? Was there drama?
ME: Not really. Charlie already knows the wonder of the world that is Scooter, and Connor...Well, Connor and I had a talk.
FRIEND: And?
ME: I think he's going to push harder for us to be exclusive.
FRIEND: Is that what you want?
ME: Is it cliche to say I don't know what I want?
FRIEND: Yes, but so is a theatrical kiss at the end of an episode of a bad sitcom where the love interests and the main character are brought to a turning point.
ME: And then the friend makes a cute little pun at the end?
FRIEND: Honey, I would but I'm so plastered I'm not even capable of a simile right now.

To be perfectly honest, I think Charlie's getting to the point where he'd like a little committment too. I could always offer both of them committment, but then I'd be like the gay spin-off of Big Love.

All this time without a good guy in my life and now I have two.

There's another moral for you--Be careful what you wish for...

...Unless you're wishing for meaningless sex and good wine.

FRIEND: Hallelujah!

Date #20: Meet the Family

I realize there are some gay people out there who believe we live in the year 2006, and that meeting the family of a guy you've been on several dates with shouldn't be a big deal.

To these people I say--

Wipe off the rainbow sunglasses and get a clue, Tim Curry.

Sorry, I'm not usually so caustic, but I was really nervous about the date.

BRIAN: It's no big deal. I met Scooter's family the second time we hung out and they loved me. Matter of fact, I'm still on really good terms with them.
ME: Really?
BRIAN: Yeah, I mean granted, Scooter's family is made up of his incarcerated older brother and his grandmother who referred to me as 'Davey' but if you forget all that--

Considering what I was going to be dealing with when it came to Connor's family I'd gladly have taken a crazy old grandma and a brother in the clink.

After all, Connor's family was different.

They were rich.

Now, I'd like to think I have a sense of wit and class, but the fact of the matter is I was raised on Disney Afternoon and Mac and Cheese just like the rest of the middle class.

Connor's family is into sailing and afternoons at "the club."

I didn't know there were "clubs" anymore. I thought we got rid of them along with that other grand tradition of the upper class--

Segregation.

Why did I feel like I was about to be the Barbra Streisand to somebody's Robert Redford?

(And when did I suddenly become gay enough to start comparing my life to The Way We Were?)

I arrived at Connor's family house at around 7:30pm. Luckily I'm smart enough to know that when you're invited somewhere for dinner, you should bring something. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if that applied to guys. It seemed courteous, but also sort of womanly.

"Hi, I'm Kevin. Don't worry, I'm not one of those scary feminine gays you don't want your son dating. I'm just an average, masculine, All-American, strapping lumberjack sort of fellow. Not that I'm into straps or anything--I mean, I--Oh, by the way, you should probably refrigerate these blueberry tarts."

Not that I cared what these people thought of me or gay people in general. Was there even reason to worry? After all, they had an openly gay son who they were apparently very close with, so they must be cool with the whole guys-coming-over thing, right?

The best possible thing happened--

His father answered the door.

I almost dropped the fresh baked Italian bread I had settled on--cause, you know, bread is butch.

But then his father smiled and extended his hand.

DADDIO: You must be Kevin. I'm Ted, Connor's Dad.

Oh thank God, I thought. His father is nice. That must mean the rest of them are going to be a breeze. No family has a homo-friendly father without being cool.

Connor's father invited me into the biggest hall I have ever seen. Granted, most of the people I know don't even have Halls in their home bigger than a walk-in closet. This was like entering into Tara before the Union soldiers arrived.

Daddio led me into the living room where I was greeted by Connor's mother, Elizabeth, and his two sisters, Catherine and Carly.

I imagined a big "C" as the family crest.

Elizabeth is your classic rich, pretty, ladies who lunch kinda gal. She either had a trainer or a surgeon or both. She smiled at me like I was the family's newly adopted Korean orphan.

Catherine, 20, was the giddy girl. It was clear that she's positively thrilled her brother is a big queer since I pegged her instantly as being a hag and a half.

Carly, 17, on the other hand seemed a little more wily--think a young Abby on Dawson's Creek--or any of the little ho's on My Sweet Sixteen.

So there I sat, on the couch, wondering if the butler was going to show up and offer me some cognac.

ELIZABETH: So Kevin, Connor says you like theater.
ME: Actually I majored in theater.
ELIZABETH: Oh, where did you go?

This is where I name the less than Ivy-league college I attended.

CARLY: Oh, I have a friend who's going there.
ME: Really?
CARLY: Yeah, her family's going through some rough times.

The Bitch, ladies and gentlemen, every Aaron Spelling soap has one.

Daddio--Ted--took that moment to go fetch Connor who was apparently out helping to close down the pool for the summer.

ME: Should I do something with...my bread?

That got looks from all.

CATHERINE: I think theater is really awesome. I saw Wicked when it first came out.
CARLY: You see everything when it first comes out.

Catherine shot her sister a look that made me love her. I decided to play allie.

ME: I saw Wicked last week actually. I loved it.
CATHERINE: With Eden? Oh my gosh, I've never seen it with Eden! You are so lucky!
ME: Well--
CATHERINE: How was 'Defying Gravity?'
ME: Really good.
CARLY: Catherine cried for the rest of the night after we saw that show.
ELIZABETH: Carly, be good.

Too late. I saw Catherine take a deep breath and bite. Something she clearly does to keep from pulling out her sister's hair by the strand.

ELIZABETH: So Kevin, can you make a good living doing theater?
ME: Well, you can if you're in Wicked.

This got a laugh out of Catherine, but Elizabeth and Carly seemed unamused.

ELIZABETH: No, but seriously, are you working?
ME: Yes, but not in theater.
ELIZABETH: But that's what your degree is in.
ME: I know, but there aren't a lot of paying theatrical opportunities around here.
ELIZABETH: Maybe you should move to New York then.

Why? So then I wouldn't be able to date your son?

Clearly this woman had no problem with me potentially running my tongue over her little boy's torso--it was my predestined fate to be a starving artist that had her in a tizzy.

It was at this point that Connor came in--shirtless, dirty, and smelling of chlorine. Then I remembered why I was suffering these indignities.

When I stood up, he not only hugged me but kissed me full-on--on the mouth. I think my face instantly turned a bright off-pink, and I refused to look up until Daddio walked in and announced that we could all go into the dining room and eat.

As everyone was leaving I grabbed Connor and whispered--

ME: Why did you do that?
CONNOR: To show you that I can and it's not a big deal.
ME: I think your mother and Carly hate me.
CONNOR: Probably, but my dad and Cat are going to love you.
ME: So what are you saying? Two out of three ain't bad?
CONNOR: You got it, Meatloaf.

God, it's refreshing when someone other than me can throw out pop culture barbs like that.

Dinner was--of course--delicious, and mostly free of bite...

...Mostly.

CARLY: So are you guys, like, boyfriends?

I was ready to pipe in when Connor replied--

CONNOR: We sure are.

This time Elizabeth and Carly weren't the only ones who were taken aback.

I sought to clarify.

ME: We're just dating at the moment.
CONNOR: Exactly. We're boyfriends.
DADDIO: Isn't it the same thing?

I'll take conversations I don't want to have with someone's Dad in the room for $500, Alex.

ELIZABETH: Have you talked about living together?

Oh look, the Daily Double.

ME: I think we're just taking it slow at the moment.
CONNOR: Of course, but getting our own place is definitely a topic we'll be discussing soon.

Oh we will, will we?

ME: I actually just got my own place a few months ago. So I don't think I'll be moving again too soon.
CATHERINE: Oh? Where are you living?
ME: In this apartment on the east side.
ELIZABETH: That must be expensive.
ME: Not all that expensive.
ELIZABETH: I'm just surprised you can afford to live on your own with just a theater degree.

Italian bitch--I mean, bread--anyone?

After dinner I was out on the patio looking out over the gorgeous lawn and the inground pool that could probably house a good-sized beluga whale. Connor came out and joined me.

CONNOR: You upset?
ME: I'll let you know when I start seeing colors other than crimson.
CONNOR: My family has that effect on people.
ME: It wasn't just them, and I liked your Dad and Catherine.
CONNOR: So what is it then?
ME: What was that stuff about being boyfriends?

At this Connor looked a little surprised.

CONNOR: Kevin, we have known each other for about a month now.
ME: Yeah, and we've only hung out a couple times, and most of those times you were drunk or I was seasick.
CONNOR: So you don't consider us boyfriends?
ME: No! Boyfriends means exclusive, and I....
CONNOR: You what?

I can't be exclusive because at the moment I'm di-clusive--considering Charlie.

Connor got an abridged--and somewhat selective--version of why I can't commit to him and only him just yet, but he seemed uneasy with that.

CONNOR: Kevin, I really like you, but I'm looking for something serious. I don't just want to be another guy in your life. I don't just want to keep dating forever.
ME: Please, it's not like that at all.

Date #1843: Connor and I--The Golden Years.

I have to admit, I was surprised that Connor was the one pressuring me to settle down and not Charlie, but it also kind of made him more appealing. You have to take a guy seriously when he's ready to make the big jump for you.

ME: Have you ever met the family of someone you were dating?
FRIEND: Please, sometimes I don't even meet their roommates.
ME: Aside from the fact that I got treated like a bohemian artist, it wasn't all that bad.
FRIEND: Oh my God, bohemians are hot.
ME: Name a bohemian you know.
FRIEND: Ew--
ME: Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge doesn't count.
FRIEND: I'm sorry, but I miss the days when parents tossed their kids out on their asses if it turned out they were gay. Now that being gay is socially acceptable, it's not as hot.
ME: Yeah, I really long for the days of prejudice and homophobia.

I told Connor I would need some time to think about what we discussed. In the meantime, I have a date with Charlie to go to the club.

I know, I know.

I don't wanna be a playa no more.

But I feel like if I commit to one, I'm going to lose the other.

Date #19: Open-Ended

While dreading the upcoming meeting with Connor's family I almost forgot about the date I had planned with this guy Stephen.

Have you noticed that if a guy is named Stephen is makes you call him Stephen and not Steve, and if his name is spelled with a "ph" and not a "v" then he's always gay?

Something to think about when you're naming the baby.

Anyway, Stephen asked me out for lunch at Panera, and even though I'm not a big Panera fan, I needed something to take my mind of Con-lie.

(That's my nickname for the on-going Connor-vs-Charlie feud, happening almost exclusively in my mind.)

Upon meeting Stephen at Panera I could tell I was dealing with a major metro--and I don't mean Stephen likes boys but claims not to.

He was wearing snazzy (yes, I say 'snazzy') sunglasses, a t-shirt that said "Runaround," jeans, and sandals. When he saw me he lowered the sunglasses and smiled.

Points, points, points for Stephen.

We had a nice lunch and got into the topic of--what else--ex-boyfriends.

ME: One of mine said he was the combination of The Great Gatsby and Dorian Gray.
STEPHEN: So he was obsessed with youth?
ME: Obsessed with youth and eager to speak about it.
STEPHEN: Terrific.
ME: What about you?
STEPHEN: One of my ex's believed he was the reincarnation of La Bamba.
ME: Are you serious?
STEPHEN: He used to watch the movie every night.
ME: Was he Latin?
STEPHEN: Please, he was from Vermont.

We were having a pretty good time bouncing boys back and forth and eating sandwiches. Maybe this is what I need more of in my life, I thought, simple lunches with fun people who I kind of want to make out with. Why clutter up my life meeting people's families and going to dinner parties with strippers?

ME: ...I used to have to drop him off like a block from his house.
STEPHEN: Ugh, if my boyfriend ever made me do that we'd be done.
ME: Well, when you love somebody--
STEPHEN: Oh, I love David, but still.

Da-who?

ME: Who's David?
STEPHEN: My boyfriend.

I'm sure you're all as surprised as I was.

Apparently Stephen and his boyfriend David are in an open relationship. Stephen and David are allowed to do the bobkabang with other guys, but within reason.

STEPHEN: No kissing, no cuddling, and no soft touching. Just the rough stuff.

At first I was only slightly disgusted, then I realized something--

ME: So if we're hanging out that means--
STEPHEN: Yeah, are we going to go back to your place soon? Cause I have to be at work for 4pm.

I explained that Stephen that not only was I looked for something a little more long-term than a no-kiss fling with a chicken wing, I would have a major problem doing something with him knowing he had a boyfriend.

STEPHEN: He could watch if that would make you feel better.

I just bet he could.

Rather than just walk away from this awkward situation, I decided to converse with Stephen about his lifestyle choice.

ME: So what's it like being a whore?

Just kidding.

ME: Don't you feel that by taking monogamy out fo your relationship, you're kind of rendering it...not a relationship?

English major, kids. Woot woot.

STEPHEN: Look, even if I didn't have sex with other guys, I'd want to have sex with other guys. By actually doing it I think less about it, and that makes my time with David better. And because I tell him about it; it makes our relationship more honest.
ME: But that makes your relationship so much easier to maintain!
STEPHEN: Exactly. Why should relationships be hard?
ME: Because they're not called Shoots and Ladders!
STEPHEN: Kevin, every man either cheats or wants to cheat. Gay, straight, whatever. We're men. We can't just be with one person and be completely satisfied. It's like eating. You can't just eat one thing your whole life and nobody expects you too.
ME: That's not true! I could eat tortellini my whole life...
STEPHEN: Every gay relationship that isn't an open one is bound to fail.

Great, now I need to watch Trick to cheer myself up.

I called Brian for support. After explaining the situation to him, he was clearly supportive.

BRIAN: Peter wants to have sex with other people.
ME: WHAT?
BRIAN: I said it was okay.
ME: PANIC AT THE F**KING DISCO!
BRIAN: I know, but if it's that or nothing--
ME: So now that's a dealbreaker. No more, 'I don't date smokers.' No more, 'You have to be funny.' No 'You have to live somewhere with decent parking.' Now you have to be willing to let whoever you're dating fool around with someone else.
BRIAN: Kevin, I'm dating a stripper. It kind of comes with the territory.

Why the hell am I dating around to find the perfect match if the entire world thinks that once I find him he's still going to want to bang the waiter at Applebee's!

(I'm just using the waiter as an example.)

I tried to think of one gay couple I know of who've been together more than five years without opening up their relationship.

.........................what about--no.....................................

.........................Slater and Zach?........................No......

...........................No, No, No............................................

Oh Christ.

ME: Do you believe in open relationships?
FRIEND: I'm sorry. Are there other kinds?
ME: Haven't you ever been faithful to someone?
FRIEND: Does Jack Daniels count?
ME: I'll call you after I take a shower with my blender.
FRIEND: Don't get so down. Monogamy is boring.
ME: But it signifies committment.
FRIEND: And a jack-o-lantern signifies Halloween.
ME: What does that have to do with anything?
FRIEND: I'm sorry. The word 'committment' makes me zone out.

I was so sad I looked at this:

http://www.exodus.to/help

Sadly, there's no ministry anywhere near me.

...And then Charlie called.

I told him about my frustration with gay guys not wanting to be faithful.

CHARLIE: Kevin, I've only known you for a month, but I'm pretty sure you're the only guy I'd want driving me crazy.

And now for my tortellini...

Smile.