Date #81: The Oreo Cookie

Don't ask me why I thought this could work.

I have absolutely no clue.

The fact is, at Paye's last dance class, I was...propositioned.

Turner and I had done our presentation--a rousing swing dance to "Too Darn Hot," which got the class way more riled up than the already cliche tap dance done to "Candyman" by the Snobby Gays.

Unexpectedly, the Snobby Gays were actually nice to Turner and I after our presentation.

SNOBBY GAY #1 (VINCENT): You guys did a great job.
SNOBBY GAY #2 (DREW): We're having a party at our place later if you want to come.

Turner and I politely declined, but after a little more thought, I wondered if maybe I did want to check out la casa de snobby homo.

After all, I'm all about new experiences.

BRIAN: So how was it?
ME: It was... Well...

I was telling Brian about the party the next day at the N.C., but I was finding myself to be a little hesitant when it came to going into certain details.

There were a lot of people at the party, and when I got there it seemed like everyone was talking about me. It wasn't like they were being mean--on the contrary, they all wanted to find out as much about me as possible. Vincent and Drew were parading me around the room like I was their new show dog. I noticed, though, that whenever we'd walk away from someone I'd hear a laugh or catch the person checking me out as I walked away.

BRIAN: Weird.
ME: Yeah, at first. Then I overheard one of their friends talking and I suddenly realized what was going on.
BRIAN: Which was?

It was as I was coming out of the bathroom. There were two guys in Drew's room laughing about Drew and Vincent's "new boy."

GUY #1: He's cute.
GUY #2: It's weird.
GUY #1: It is weird, but as long as it's going to be weird, at least he's cute.
GUY #2: How long do we have to keep pretending it's not abnormal?
GUY #1: It's not as if we have to acknowledge the fact that he's the filling in the oreo cookie. They never call them that. They just call them--
BOTH: --Our new friend.

I went back into the bathroom to digest what I'd just heard.

The filling in the oreo cookie?

BRIAN: Oh my God. The Snobby Gays want you to be their third?
ME: I know, it's crazy.
BRIAN: So what are you going to do about it?
ME: I'm going on a date with them tonight.
BRIAN: Kevin!
ME: They asked me out! I didn't know what to say.
BRIAN: You say, 'No thank you. I would not like to be the ham in your sandwich.'
ME: The monkey in their middle.
BRIAN: The beef patties in their Big Mac.
ME: Okay, that's enough.

The worst part was definitely going to be telling Turner about the date. I was supposed to have gone with him to Dwight's house for a movie night.

I went over Dwight's to give him the bad news in person.

DWIGHT: What do you mean you're backing out?
ME: I'm sorry, but something came up, and you know I don't like early Tarrantino.
NICK: You're the only person I know who can't sit through Reservoir Dogs.

Shudder...Shudder...Stuck in the middle with you...Shudder...

Nick, Scooter, and Dwight were already assembled for a double helping of Tarrantino. They were even considering watching both parts of Kill Bill in succession if they got themselves drunk enough for it.

As much as I love me some Uma, experiences like these are one in a million.

When I explained to the boys what was up, they were all pretty much in agreement.

DWIGHT: I think it's dumb and perverse.
ME: You're jealous because it's not you, aren't you?
DWIGHT: You're damn right I am.
NICK: That makes two of us. Since I told Christopher to take a hike, I haven't gotten so much as a kiss by--
SCOOTER: I could help you out--
NICK: Try it and you're getting yourself a root canal with a paring knife minus the anesthesia.
SCOOTER: Ooookay. Kevin, can I talk to you for a second?

Scooter pulled me into the kitchen under the pretense of giving me head (that's the only pretense he ever uses.)

ME: Yes, Scooter?

He looked at me for a second with something like pride in his eyes, and then hugged me.

ME: Um...okay.
SCOOTER: My little boy is finally becoming a manwhore.

I shoved him aside.

ME: I am not. I just...want to see what they have to say.
SCOOTER: This is going to make for such good bloggage. I might even mention it in my blog.
ME: Would you stop with that? I'm doing this for the experiment.
SCOOTER: Fine. Just make sure you get them in bed so you have something good to close with, okay?
ME: Scooter!

At that moment, Turner came into the kitchen.

TURNER: So, you're blowing us off for the Snobby Gays?
ME: They're not that snobby.
TURNER: Of course not. Now that they're trying to get in your pants.
ME: Turner, nothing is going to happen.
TURNER: That's what they all say.
SCOOTER: I'm going to peace out of this convo. K-Dog, be the filling--be it with pride.
TURNER: I'm going to kill you.
SCOOTER: Later!

After Scooter left, Turner just looked...hurt.

ME: Look, I don't know why you're taking this so personally. I know we kind of hated them, but maybe they're not so bad.
TURNER: I guess lately I've just been disappointed with the gay community as a whole. A community where guys can leave their boyfriends who they've known for years and then not return their phone calls. A community where two assholes can take on a third boy like they're buying a pet or something. A group of people where stuff that in the normal world would be looked down upon is somehow looked at as being cool and spontaneous when really it's just a sad reminder that none of us is ever going to be happy.

And with that, he left the kitchen.

I looked at the pots. I looked at the pans. And I thought to myself...

Fuck it, I'm going.

The gay community may be in shambles, but I can't fix it tonight by sitting in a Republican's living room watching Jackie Brown.

Vincent and Drew were making dinner for me at their place. I got there about ten minutes after I left Dwight's. Drew gave me a big hug as soon as I walked in. He's the smaller of the two, and a little on the immature side. Vincent seems a little more seasoned. He was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner when I arrived, and he came out with an apron on to give me a full-on mouth kiss.

Okay, I thought, here we go.

Vincent smiled at me after the kiss. Drew was smiling too. This was a little...odd.

VINCENT: Drew, go change into that thing you brought today. I think Kevin will like it.
DREW: Can do.

He disappeared down the hall, presumably into their bedroom.

VINCENT: Come help me set the table.

Vincent had made some sort of noodle dish along with a tomato salad and chicken a la something (sorry I'm not what you would call a culinary master). While I helped him, we chatted a little.

VINCENT: So, have you ever done this before?
ME: Set a table? No, actually. My mother used to just prepare a trough.
VINCENT: You're funny. But I'm serious.
ME: Gone on a date with a couple? No.
VINCENT: Are you nervous?
ME: Are you planning on giving me a pop quiz.
VINCENT: If you're good...

We finished setting the table just as Drew emerged--wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer briefs and a mischievous look on his face.

ME: I'm sorry. Was I overdressed for dinner?
VINCENT: Drew and I just like to work up an appetite before we eat.
ME: But won't the tomatoes get cold?

They both laughed at that, and Vincent proceeded to kiss me on the neck. That must have been the green light for Drew who started kissing me. I was trying to remember that this was not supposed to just be a glorified threeway, but...you really would have needed to see him in the red boxer briefs to understand why I had a hard time being good.

My shirt was off and it looked like I was about to fill the oreo when Vincent whispered something in my ear.

VINCENT: I'm so happy we invited you.

It was the emphasis that he put on you that caught my attention.

I tried to respond, but I just kept moaning until finally I got out:

ME: As opposed to inviting?

Drew heard me and responded with...

DREW: Your friend--the depressing looking one.

It took me until my zipper was half down and Drew was on his knees before I realized they were talking about Turner.

ME: Um, not to...stop the party, but...Turner's not depressing.
VINCENT: Please, Kevin. He's been nothing but morbid for the past--
ME: His boyfriend just broke up with him.
DREW: Surprise, surprise. He's goofy looking.

This is the point where I put all that aside and just keep going with the flow...

...But I couldn't.

Turner's one of those people who I loved the second I saw him, and I can't just stand there while some Yankee Doodle and his Dandy strip me naked and insult one of my best friends.

Still, I was going to try to be civil. I casually pushed Drew back a little and smiled.

ME: Um, Turner's been going through a lot lately and I think maybe if you just--
VINCENT: Kevin, look, be glad he's goofy looking and a downer, otherwise you wouldn't be here right now.

That kind of lit the firework, so to speak.

I zipped my zipper, put my shirt back on, and went to grab my coat from the hall.

DREW: Did I miss something?
ME: Sorry, guys. But I have other plans tonight.
VINCENT: Like what? And before you answer that, keep in mind that we both did gymnastics for most of our lives.

I could hear Scooter in my head begging me not to leave...

ME: I guess it's just...not worth it.

That got the intellectual response I expected:

VINCENT and DREW: Huh?

And I was out of there.

FRIEND: I can't even talk to you right now.
ME: It was the right decision. They were bashing Turner.
FRIEND: I don't care if they were bashing your head against a rock! You were already halfway there!
ME: They were assholes.
FRIEND: Assholes in red boxer briefs!
ME: They were catty.
FRIEND: So am I! I mean, I do it in a classy, tasteful way, but still--
ME: For once, I didn't want to let my d**k do the thinking.
FRIEND: I don't know who you are anymore.

Oh well, he'll get over it.

I went back to Dwight's, but mostly everyone was sleeping except Turner and Nick. Dwight and Scooter passed out before getting to see Uma tango with Lucy Liu.

Part of me was expecting Turner to ignore me, but instead he lifted up the blanket he was laying under and I got in next to him and proceeded to eat some of his popcorn.

TURNER: Date ended early?
ME: Yup.
TURNER: How come?
ME: You were right.
TURNER: Sorry what?
ME: I'm not saying it twice.

He gave me a kiss on the cheek, and we watched Uma.

Not a bad way to spend a Saturday night.

Date #80: The Investment

If there's one thing people have forgotten how to do in dating, it's invest.

And I mean that in the most literal sense of the word.

When I was a kid, I always had crushes on people I considered investments.

For example, while everyone fell for Justin from N'Sync, I was more interested in Lance. He was never anybody's "favorite," but at the end of the day while everyone else was fighting over Justin, I could picture myself cuddling up to my little investment Lance on his tour bus in between stops in Toledo and Des Moines.

Laugh if you will, but who knew one day my boy band crush would turn into a man-sharer?

I'm not much for chasing--I'd much rather invest in someone who's an easy get and then watch them turn into a full-fledged catch.

BRIAN: You don't think that sounds a little...calculating?
ME: It's no worse than being shallow and going after someone for how they look.
BRIAN: Yes, you go after them for how they're going to look.
ME: And help them along the way.

I was explaining my idea to bring back my childhood philosophy of investing (even if I didn't know that's what it was at the time) over lunch with Brian at the N.C.

After all, it seemed to make so much more sense. Instead of going after cocky guys who know they're hot and treat everyone like a name in a little black book, I could go after guys who would actually appreciate me and then steer them towards hotness.

BRIAN: Help them to become hot--ergo a shallow reason--
ME: That's only after I've spent awhile with them while they're--
BRIAN: Fugly?
ME: No! While I've gotten to know them and fallen for their personalities.
BRIAN: It's basically just a shortcut to finding a hot guy with a good personality without having to go through all the hurdles.
ME: And what's wrong with shortcuts?
BRIAN: Fair enough, but how do you tell if someone is an investment or not?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Chase.

I met him in Paye's class, and right away I spotted a potential winner.

Although, Turner wasn't on board right away.

TURNER: Are you kidding me?
ME: Trust me, that guy is a hottie.
TURNER: Yeah, underneath the sweat, the fat, and excess body hair.

I was at Turner's house for a "Cheer-Up Movie Night." We were going to be doing a double viewing of Mermaids and Moonstruck.

When I brought up Chase, he balked. I think the break-up with Gary has made him a little meaner than usual. It's not like him to bring up somebody being overweight or over...um...hairy.

ME: He's an investment, Turner.
TURNER: Are you Rachel Leigh Cook all of a sudden? You're going to doll him up?
ME: No, because that would make me Freddie Prinze Jr. Get your analogies right. If the girl's getting made over it's She's All That. If the boy's getting made over it's Drive Me Crazy.
TURNER: You're a sad little clown.
ME: I'm aware.
TURNER: And just so you know, there is no way you can ever make Chase appealing in any way to anybody.
ME: Oh really? Well, I'll tell you what. I'm bringing him to karaoke tomorrow, and I bet by then he'll already be looking pretty good--even to you.
TURNER: Go to it, Henry Higgins.

Now, let me just come out and say it. I am not the type of person who can give anyone pointers on dressing or style or anything like that. I feel just fine in an over-sized plaid shirt and sneakers. I do, however, know what it takes to get someone from a 3 to a 33 with just a little fine-tuning.

I had Chase meet me at the mall in front of the Gap. The mistake would have been taking him to Abercrombie or Banana right off the bat. He needed to lowered into the pool slowly, not thrown headfirst into the deep end.

He showed up looking...well...like a fixer-upper. But he also looked thrilled at the prospect of getting asked out. He told me I was the first guy who ever invited him anywhere. If there's one thing I love, it's someone with appreciation.

CHASE: So what are we doing here? Do you need to do some shopping?
ME: Actually I thought it might be fun to goof around, maybe try some stuff on--
CHASE: For me you mean?
ME: If you don't want to--
CHASE: No, that's cool. I've actually been meaning to buy a new outfit.

See that? He was already going for the gold.

After a mere fifteen minutes, we had already found Chase a pair of jeans and a shirt that took him from hobo to Bohemian starving-artist-who'll-do-you-on-his-blank-canvas-and-make-you-like-it. It was awesome.

ME: Just so you know, you're wearing that to the party tonight.
CHASE: Sure, sounds great.

Now about that hair.

I'm lucky enough to have an aunt who owns her own salon. I usually don't stop in that much since I hate using product in my hair and whenever I show up gel-free she screams at me as if I've just tattooed my face and married an Islamic terrorist.

Luckily today, I was done up for the party so I just got a big hug and a lot of parading.

AUNT PATTY: Look at how handsome my nephew is. Cover of GQ this one.
ME: Oh, hardly Aunt Patty.
AUNT PATTY: You should have modeled.
ME: For who? Stevie Wonder?
AUNT PATTY: You're stunning!
ME: I'm scrawny and I have awkward features.
AUNT PATTY: You're an Italian sculpture! Who's your friend?

I presented Chase to Aunt Patty.

ME: We need a little help.

After an hour, Chase's hair had that great "messed up for thirty dollars" look. I tried to talk him into getting a wax, but he wasn't feeling it. Still, we had made a lot of progress today.

When we arrived at karaoke, I instantly knew that I had made some good choices. Brian's mouth dropped open. Nick mouthed the word 'Dammmnnnnn.' Scooter tried to slip Chase his number at least five times.

The best, by far, however, was Turner. He handed me five bucks.

ME: What's this for?
TURNER: Consider me Colonel Pickering. You won the wager.

I almost broke out into "You did it!" from My Fair Lady--forgetting how that scene ends.

Granted, I didn't exactly get my slippers thrown at me, but by the end of the night I could tell Chase was feeling a little uncomfortable.

We stopped at the all-nite Bickford's before heading home. I decided to broach the topic of how the evening went.

ME: Did you have a good time tonight?
CHASE: Would you have had a good time tonight?

HERE'S YOUR SLIPPERS! AND MAY YOU NEVER HAVE A DAY'S REST IN THEM!

ME: I'm sorry if it seemed like I was--
CHASE: Parading me around like a show-horse?
ME: Something like that, yeah.
CHASE: Would you have been that mortified bringing me in there as I was?
ME: No, it's not that. It's just...

It's just that, yes, I would have been mortified. I'm an awful, awful person.

ME: I guess I just wanted to show my friends that when you invest in someone, you get something out of it. That there's more to life than just going after the hot guy with nothing to him.
CHASE: Yeah, it's better to alter someone into a hot guy, because personality can't stand on its own.

Wow, the view's kind of sucky when you're three inches tall.

ME: I'm sorry, Chase. I don't know why I thought this would be a good idea. I've had people try to make me over before and I didn't like it, but I just though this was different because no matter what I would be fine with you.
CHASE: Just not fine with how other people were with me.

And that pretty much closed out the evening.

After I brought him home, I let my head land on the steering wheel of my car while I tried to remember when it was exactly that I became the typical gay man.

FRIEND: Stop moaning. The boy needed a guiding hand to guide him to some laser hair removal and you gave it to him.
ME: I think lately I just...Well, I'd like to be the guy with the hot boyfriend. I've never been the guy with the hot boyfriend.
FRIEND: Honey, when you're the guy with the hot boyfriend, then you're the ugly guy in the relationship. Trust me, you don't want to be that guy.
ME: I wish there were friendlier labels. Like, 'the smart one' and 'the funny one.'
FRIEND: You don't get off that easy. People like to tear down relationships. That means if you're in one, you get a nasty label. Like 'the one who wears bad shoes' or 'the one who needs to look into Crest white strips.'
ME: Would I be either of those?
FRIEND: You would be both of those.
ME: Hey!
FRIEND: I come from a place of love. If you don't like it, then f**k off.

I showed up at Chase's apartment the next day wearing one of my trademark plaid shirts, hideous pants, and those ugly shoes Friend was talking about. Chase looked slightly amused but also skeptical.

CHASE: Can I help you?
ME: I was wondering if you'd like to walk around Thayer Street with both of us looking awful and not caring?
CHASE: I'm not sure I want another date with you, Kevin.
ME: Who said anything about a date? Maybe I just want a liberating experience--sans gel.

He laughed, and we started out on our walk. It was beautiful out with the sun warming the air and just a little bit of wind to keep things cool.

And I have to say, the wind goes through your hair a lot easier when there's no product in it.

Just thought I'd put that out there...

Date #79: Get Me Drunk

Let me start this off with a disclaimer.

Actually, a few disclaimers.

I have never been drunk in my life.

I have never even had more than one drink at a time--ever.

The total number of drinks I've had in my lifetime?

Four.

So please understand that when I made the following offer to Turner, I was truly trying to cheer him up, since most of my friends hate the fact that I don't drink.

ME: Get me drunk.

We were sitting in his room as he waited for Gary to call. Gary had been at a friend's house for the past couple of days, and had not made contact aside from an e-mail saying "I need some time."

In his absence, Brian, Nick, Scooter, and myself had all taken up residence in the House of Heartbreak. At the moment, Brian was in the kitchen attempting to make brownies so that Turner could lick the bowl (because how could that not cheer you up?) while I was wowing him with a long-assumed-lost VHS tape of mine recently found in a box of stuff from a long-ago move--a recording of an entire night of SNICK.

For those of you who don't remember SNICK, be ashamed. Be very ashamed.

Saturday Night Nick was a tradition for me during childhood. It was sort of like TGIF except Nickelodeon style. There were four shows, and over the years they changed order and there were many substitutions. I, however, own one of the collector's editions--a full line-up of the four original SNICK shows.

It started with Clarissa Explains It All, followed by Ren and Stimpy, then a little SNL for the tween set with Roundhouse, and closed out like any good Saturday evening should be--with the original, scary-as-hell Are You Afraid of the Dark?

As enthralled as I was, I could see it wasn't doing much for Turner.

TURNER: I'm sorry, Kevin. Even Clarissa can't help me right now.
ME: I can do my Lori Beth Denberg 'Vital Information' impersonation.
TURNER: Old school Nick just isn't going to cut it.

This was scarier than when I pledged 248 hours to the Big Help and thought they were actually going to come after me if I didn't do them.

Brian came in with the bowl of brownie batter.

BRIAN: How's everything going?
ME: He watched Roundhouse and still felt depressed.
BRIAN: Should we try oral sex?
TURNER: Don't bother. I can't have sex when I feel this lousy.
BRIAN: That's funny. I once dated a guy who could only have sex when he felt lousy.

Looking at Turner, I felt so bad for him. Gary was more than just a live-in boyfriend to him. He was a long-time friend. If this relationship really was over, then Turner was going to need a lot of support.

TURNER: Part of me just wants to get drunk, but I have to work tomorrow morning.

And for some reason, the first thought that popped into my mind was: I don't.

ME: I don't.
TURNER: Don't what?
ME: Have to work tomorrow morning.
BRIAN: Good for you.

And that's when it hit me.

ME: Get me drunk.

They both looked at me as if I had just started speaking Cantonese.

BRIAN: Pardon?
ME: I'm going out with Andy again tonight, but he said he feels like a night in, and he already knows about the whole...thing with...you know.
TURNER: You can say his--
ME: Gary, he knows about Gary. And...it might...cheer you up.

And before he even spoke, I knew that it would. I could see Turner's lips start to upturn.

TURNER: Kevin, you don't have to do that.
ME: I'm going to have to do it eventually anyway. You can't go through you entire life without getting drunk. It's a rite of passage I should have experienced years ago.
BRIAN: I think it's a fantastic idea!
TURNER: You would.
BRIAN: Turner, he's doing this for you. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
ME: Wait!

I knew if I didn't set boundaries, Brian would have me out on 295--tipsy and hitchhiking while he filmed the whole thing from an off-ramp.

ME: Here are the rules. I want a controlled environment.
BRIAN: We can stay right here. It'll be more fun that way anyway.
ME: Like a rat in a maze.
BRIAN: Exactly.
TURNER: That's fine with me. I don't want to go out and potentially run into Gary.
ME: Two, I hate the taste of alcohol, that's why I never drink in the first place--
BRIAN: --And cause you're a Lame Larry.
TURNER: Brian!
ME: So if you're going to get me drunk, you're going to need to make my drinks fruity and strong.
BRIAN: Just like how I like my men. No problem.
ME: And three, if at any point I start to act crazy, you are to send me to a room and lock the door. I've never been drunk. I don't know how I'll act, but just in case I go nuts, I don't want to make a total fool of myself.
BRIAN: But that's the whole point!
TURNER: It's a deal, Kevin.
ME: Great. Then let's go get some hooch.

Of course, it wasn't going to be just Andy, Brian, Turner, and I. Where would the amusement be in that? Once Brian put out the call that Kevin Broccoli was getting drunk for the first time, my cell phone wouldn't stop ringing.

VOICEMAIL #1: Kevin, this is Dwight. I'm bringing some of the best stuff in mother's secret stash. This woman has stuff back when liquor used to be mixed in bathtubs while the prohibition police patrolled the streets.

SOUND OF MRS. BROWN'S VOICE IN THE BACKGROUND: Ha ha, Dwight--inaudible, inaudible--think you got conceived?

DWIGHT: See you tonight.

VOICEMAIL #2: Kev, it's Paye. Turner says you're getting drunk. I'll give you a year free at the studio if you let me come.

VOICEMAIL #3: (From Scooter) Getting wasted is only half the fun. The other half is drunken sex with Scooter. Seeeeee-ya there!

All in all, we had about twenty people at Turner's house. What was supposed to be a nice, night in turned out to be an all out kegger--minus the keg of course, we're gay guys not frat boys.

At a certain point, I think everyone forgot that me getting drunk was the big event of the evening, which was just fine by me. Turner seemed to be having fun, and that was my main goal.

Of course, Scooter didn't forget the mission of the evening.

SCOOTER: Try this. It's all pineapple. You won't even know what's tapping you until you're tapped.

So I drank...and drank...and drank.

I was very responsible, however. I made sure I ate beforehand, and I paced myself. Who knew how much I could handle? And to be honest, I really didn't feel anything at all.

Andy was nice enough to monitor me for most of the evening.

ME: So is it tacky that I've invited you to watch me get drunk?
ANDY: Incredibly tacky, but also quite enjoyable.
ME: Is it weird that I don't feel anything?
ANDY: No. It would be common for a drunk person not to believe they're actually drunk.
ME: But I'm not acting any different.
ANDY: Not everybody does.

Scooter came over again.

SCOOTER: This is called a Scoot Over.
ME: Why is it called that?
SCOOTER: Because everyone I make it for ends up hung-over in bed next to me.

When I had taken my drink, he walked away. Andy gave me a look.

ANDY: You have an odd assortment of friends.
ME: Oh, we're not technically friends. He's just someone I make bad decisions with once in awhile.
ANDY: Gotcha.

Did I just say that? I wouldn't normally say that. Was that the liquor talking?

ME: What kind of underwear do you have on?
ANDY: Excuse me?
ME: You're a boxer briefs guy, aren't you?
ANDY: Yeah, most guys are.
ME: They're blue, aren't they?
ANDY: How did you know that?
ME: Blue boxer briefs are easy to spot. Fun, sweet, good-humored.
ANDY: What about other colors?
ME: Red boxer briefs mean you're shy but kinky. Black mean you think you rock in bed, and you might but more likely you might not--
ANDY: What about stripes and stuff?
ME: Someone who puts that much thought into their underwear is clearly getting laid a lot.

Was I waxing philosophic on underwear?

ANDY: So I'm fun, sweet, and--
ME: Good-humored. That's why I like you.
ANDY: I like you, too.
ME: Cool.
ANDY: Yeah.

Silence.

ME: Can I see the blue boxer briefs?

Cut to me making out with him in Turner's bedroom and reaching my hands down--

Well, you get the picture.

We didn't do much, because about five minutes in Scooter burst into the room and laughed.

SCOOTER: The Scoot Over still works.
ME: It's not getting me into bed with you.
SCOOTER: The night is still young, my little friend.

As Andy and I made our way back into the kitchen, I heard sobbing coming from the bathroom. I knocked on the door and heard Turner say 'Come in.'

I went into the bathroom to find him curled up in the bathtub holding his cell phone like it was a miniature infant.

ME: What's wrong?
TURNER: I tried calling Gary. He answered, said he was busy, and then hung...hung...
ME: Hung up?

And then came more sobbing.

I managed to console him enough to get him out of the bathtub and back into the kitchen where Dwight, Nick, and Brian were playing Be Honest.

Be Honest is maybe one of the most dangerous games any group of people can play. It basically involves getting drunk and then asking your friends to answer honest questions about you. I've seen people come to blows over Be Honest. I've seen relationships broken up over Be Honest. So why do people play it?

I should probably mention that I've also seen an astounding number of people get laid because of Be Honest. That's why.

BRIAN: Nick, be honest. How big is Nick Jr.?
NICK: Bigger than your Nick Jr.
DWIGHT: How would you know?
NICK: I've seen him walk from the bathroom to his bedroom after a shower.
BRIAN: I take cold showers. There's shrinkage.
NICK: You'd have to take showers in the refrigerator for it to shrink that much.

I tried to dissuade them from continuing with the game, but they ended up roping me into it.

NICK: Kevin, be honest--
ME: I'd rather not be.
NICK: You've had some type of sexual contact with most of your friends.
BRIAN: Not with me.
NICK: Fine. Then we'll exclude you.
ME: I'm so not answering whatever question this is leading to.
DWIGHT: You have to!
ME: Ugh...
NICK: Out of all of us here tonight, whose the best kisser?

Oh Christ...

ME: Absolutely not. No way.
BRIAN: Just answer.
DWIGHT: C'mon.
ME: No way.
TURNER: Kevin, come on, we're just talking about kissing.
BRIAN: What are you freaking out for?

At that moment, Andy entered the room.

ME: I think that would be tasteless to say with Andy here.
ANDY: Don't use me to get off the hook. I want to hear, too.

Scooter came into the room with another drink.

SCOOTER: This one is a 'Strip Poker.'
NICK: Kevin has to answer the question first.

I had no choice.

ME: Fine, fine, fine. The best kisser is--

There are three answers here:

1) The honest answer--sadly, Scooter.
2) The appropriate answer--Andy, of course.
3) The right answer

ME: Andy is inelligible because we still have lots of future kissing to do, which means Turner is the best kisser here tonight.

Turner smiled--and everyone went "Awww..."

SCOOTER: F**k this. It's time to party.

Paye had everyone move the coffee table and somehow we all ended up doing the Electric Slide in the living room. Now, you may ask, how do twenty people do the Electric Slide--a dance known for needing lots of space--in an average-sized living room?

Very drunkenly.

I saw more people falling on each other and laughing and then getting right back up to Boogie Woogie Woogie then I had seen at my Aunt's Drunken 80's Wedding back when I was the tiny ring-bearer.

That was, interestingly enough, the first time I had ever tried wine, when I swiped some off the head table. Of course, I'd been making up for lost time all night.

After another hour or so, the guests left, and some of us stayed behind to help clean up.

It was in the kitchen with Scooter, Dwight, Andy, and Nick that I finally revealed my apparent high tolerance for alcohol.

ME: I got to tell you guys, I feel great right now. I could run a marathon. Must be my Irish blood.
SCOOTER: Or the fact that I've been giving you virgins all night.

Suddenly, they were all laughing.

ME: Huh?
DWIGHT: Turner told us not to really get you drunk.
NICK: He didn't want you to have your first drinking experience to be under these particular circumstances.
SCOOTER: I wouldn't have gone along with it, but then I realized it might be more fun to see you think you were drunk.
ME: You're kidding me. I haven't had a drink all night?
DWIGHT: Well, you have, just nothing with alcohol in it.
ME: But the Scoot Over, the Strip Poker--
SCOOTER: The Strip Poker was Sprite, apple juice, and three packs of equal.

Well, so much for that.

Andy left about twenty minutes later. I gave him a kiss at the door and told him I'd call him tomorrow. He's turning out to be quite the sweetie.

I was the last person to leave, and when I did I was so tired I might as well have been drunk.

FRIEND: That's like saying 'I might as well have been pregnant.' You ain't having no baby.
ME: Sorry for the disappointing twist ending.
FRIEND: Why didn't you just spend the whole party singing folk songs and watching a Raffi concert?
ME: The party was for Turner. He needed friends around him.
FRIEND: All I need after a boy leaves is a martini and a mop.
ME: You're just mad because you can't do the electric slide.
FRIEND: Bitch, please. I will ooga booga booga your ass off any dance floor.
ME: At least my drunken virginity is still intact.
FRIEND: Unlike the rest of you.
ME: Cheers to that.

I went to say good-bye to Turner, and I found him stretched out in his bed looking a little weepy-eyed, but a little peaceful too.

I got in bed next to him and wrapped my arms around him.

TURNER: Can I ask a favor?
ME: No, I'm mad at you. You kept me sober all night.
TURNER: You'd be regretting it tomorrow if you had actually drank that much, trust me.
ME: What's the favor?
TURNER: Stay with me tonight.
ME: Turner--
TURNER: I didn't say sleep with me, just...actually sleep with me. I don't wan tto be alone.
ME: Well...
TURNER: Just until I fall asleep.
ME: Deal.

I stayed where I was until I could feel his body relax--it was the nicest feeling--even better than being drunk...

...I'd imagine.

Smile

Date #78: The Do-Over

I had gone on a date with a guy named Andy.

It went well, and I was pretty much finished with the blog (being this one) and was putting the final touches on it at Scooter's house.

It was then that I made the mistake of running upstairs to get a drink. When I came down, Scooter was sitting at the computer shaking his head.

ME: Something wrong?
SCOOTER: This is the date?
ME: 'Hey Kevin, do you mind if I read this?' 'Yes Scooter, I do actually.'
SCOOTER: So this is it?
ME: It's not completely finished.
SCOOTER: It's not good.

Now, usually I try not to listen to reviews, especially from Scooter, but this time I was a little perturbed.

ME: I think it's a great entry.
SCOOTER: What's it about?
ME: It's about a date that I went on that went really well. Plain and simple.
SCOOTER: It did, huh?
ME: Yes.
SCOOTER: What did you do on it that you've never done on any other date?
ME: Well--
SCOOTER: What do you know about this person? I mean, really know about this person?
ME: Um, I...
SCOOTER: See? It has no substance.
ME: Since when did you become my editor?
SCOOTER: Your last entry was a flashback with a crazy rant, the entry before that was against foreign people--
ME: It was not against--
SCOOTER: EH EH EH! This blog needs a shot of Scooter. Nobody's even commenting on anything.
ME: The people don't always comment.
SCOOTER: They do when you give 'em something to comment about! Your blog needs a do-over.
ME: A do-over?
SCOOTER: It needs to be Scooter-ized.

I re-read what I written...and believe it or not...he was right.

I decided to Scooter-ize.

ME: Hi, Andy?
ANDY: Kevin?
ME: I know it's bad form to call the same night as the date--
ANDY: Oh, that's fine. I had a really nice time. I'm glad you called.
ME: I did too, actually, but...um...
ANDY: Is everything--
ME: I think I can do better.
ANDY: Huh?

Twenty minutes later I was outside his front door.

ANDY: This is kind of new for me.
ME: Me, too. I usually don't do do-overs. I hope you don't think I'm crazy.
ANDY: Truthfully, it's kind of nice to see a guy want to make the best impression he can. Although you really didn't do all that bad the first time.
ME: Yeah, but I didn't do spectacular either.
ANDY: So now you're going to do spectacular?
ME: That's what I'm shooting for.

Since it was around 11pm at this point, there were a limited number of places to go. I decided on the supermarket.

ME: This'll be the plan.
ANDY: Let me hear it.
ME: I need to do a little food-shopping anyway--
ANDY: I'm running errands with you?

He said it with a laugh and a smile. He was already much cuter than he was earlier in the evening.

ME: Don't go knocking running errands. This is me letting you into my life.
ANDY: Ah, I see. I see.
ME: Besides, I'm going to pick up some stuff to make you a great late-night do-over date snack.
ANDY: Really?
ME: That's right.
ANDY: And what compromises a late-night do-over date snack?
ME: I'm not sure yet but it's probably going to involve chocolate, fruit, and whatever liquor you have back at your place.
ANDY: I'm liking the sound of this already.

Once we were at the supermarket, I decided to try learning as many interesting things as I could about Andy.

ME: Any hidden talents?
ANDY: I can still recite the entire original cast of the New Micky Mouse Club.
ME: What do you have it tattooed somewhere on your body?
ANDY: Nope. I learned it when I was seven and I've just never forgotten it. I'm really good at reciting things.
ME: What else can you recite?
ANDY: State capitols. Important dates in the American revolution. 'We Didn't Start the Fire.'
ME: Harry Truman, Doris Day--
ANDY: Red China, Johnny Ray--
BOTH OF US: South Pacific, Walter Winchill, Joe DiMaggio.
ME: Anyone can do that.
ANDY: Yeah, but I can do it backwards.
ME: Bullshit.
ANDY: I can't take it anymore, Rock and Roller cola wars--

And he proceeded to do the entire song backwards.

I'll admit...I got a little turned on.

We picked up some food necessities and then made our way back to his house, but on the way there, I got an urgent text from Turner.

TEXT FROM TURNER: I NEED YOU NOW--MAJOR DISASTER--SOS

I tried calling, but he wouldn't answer. Instead he sent me another text.

TEXT FROM TURNER: TOO IMPORTANT TO PHONE--COME HERE!

ME: Um, Andy, would you mind if we made a little detour?
ANDY: Is there a problem?
ME: It sounds like my friend might be having a meltdown.
ANDY: Wow, I get to meet your friends on the first do-over date?
ME: Lucky you.

When I arrived at Turner's apartment, Brian and Nick were already there sitting in front of the television watching a Top Design rerun.

BRIAN: I'm still pissed that Matt won.
NICK: I thought he had good style.
BRIAN: Yeah, but is his wife blind? The man is gayer than me at an Urban clearance sale.

I didn't see Turner anywhere.

ME: Is he dead?
NICK and BRIAN: No.

I heard yelling. It sounded like Turner and Gary.

ME: Fight?
NICK: Colossal.
BRIAN: Epic.
ME: And you boys were invited to watch the fireworks?
NICK: They didn't start out as fireworks. At first it was just family trouble.
BRIAN: We came over to offer moral support.
ME: And how did that go?
NICK: Carisa is such a baby sometimes.
ME: Ask a stupid question.
BRIAN: As soon as we got here Gary and Turner started fighting.
ME: About what?
NICK: We don't know.
ME: I'm so confused.
ANDY: Me too.
ME: Oh, this is Andy by the way. This is Brian and Nick.
BRIAN and NICK: Hi Andy.

It was then that Turner came out of the kitchen.

TURNER: Thank God.

He came over and gave me a hug. Then he noticed Andy.

TURNER: This is--?
ME: Andy. My date from this evening.
TURNER: Wasn't that earlier on?
ME: It was, yes. I decided to do a do-over.
NICK: A what?
BRIAN: I'm over it and I don't even know what it is yet.

I could see that Turner looked really upset, so I went into the kitchen with him. Apparently Gary had gone into the bedroom to cool down.

ME: What happened?
TURNER: A fiasco. A complete and total fiasco.
ME: Worse than the blue plaid shirt I own?
TURNER: Almost as bad as that. It was a disaster.
ME: Proper nouns, Turner. Try proper nouns.
TURNER: I introduced Gary to my parents.

I was pretty sure the air got sucked out of the room at that exact moment.

ME: You did what?
TURNER: It seemed like the appropriate thing to do. We are living together after all.
ME: They've never met him before--even when you knew him from--
TURNER: Kevin, they've never met anyone I've dated.
ME: Oh...
TURNER: Yeah.
ME: How did it go?
TURNER: It ended with my father calling Gary a 'fairy' and walking out of the house.
ME: Well, your Dad seems like--
TURNER: That was after Gary called him a grade A asshole.
ME: He had to make it Grade A, huh?
TURNER: I don't even know how it all started. It just escalated and escalated...

I sat him down at the kitchen table.

ME: So you and Gary got into a fight?
TURNER: Yeah.
ME: You blamed him for what happened?
TURNER: No! It was definitely fifty-fifty, and my Dad is really hard to get along with. I was arguing with him because he doesn't want them over here anymore and I want to try again next week.
ME: Are you serious?
TURNER: What? This has to work out! I can't have my boyfriend and my father at each other's throats! We have to try again.
ME: Don't you think you should--
TURNER: No. We have to try again.

Guess I'm not the only one who believes in do-overs.

Turner decided he was going to stay by the door all night until Gary agreed to talk to him, so Brian, Nick, Andy and I left.

Back at Andy's place, I explained the situation as I cooked him some scrambled eggs.

ANDY: That's rough.
ME: Yeah, I'm glad Turner and I never dated long enough for me to be the one meeting the parents.
ANDY: So you and Turner dated but you're still friends?
ME: Yeah, we were friends before we dated. Actually I think all my gay friends and I have dated at some point or another.
ANDY: It's good that you can keep people in your life like that.
ME: I'm sentimental when it comes to people.
ANDY: So when you were Turner's boyfriend--

I stopped him.

ME: Whoa, whoa. We weren't exactly boyfriends. The term 'boyfriend' to me is a pretty big deal.
ANDY: So how many 'boyfriends' have you had?
ME: As of last July, I had three. James, Darren, and Mike--if you don't count the one week I spent with another James in high school, who was also my first kiss.
ANDY: Are you still friends with all of them?
ME: James from high school I talk to once in awhile. I'd say we're still friendly, yeah.
ANDY: What about the big three?
ME: James number two went off to UPENN and started having gay sex with anything with legs, Darren's sexual habits are even worse and includes bathhouse trysts, and Mike--Well, Mike was too good for me and now I think he knows that and so he doesn't really keep in touch.
ANDY: What did you like about each of them?
ME: Odd question.
ANDY: You value the term 'boyfriend' so much. Why did each of them deserve it?

We took our scrambled eggs into his kitchen area and sat down.

ME: James was--Well, I was his first everything. First kiss, first time, first gay date--everything. And this was after I'd gone on a string of bad dates with a lot of guys with too much experience in all walks of life, and I wanted a little innocence.
ANDY: And he provided that?
ME: Yeah, he did. He was funny too. He could make me laugh harder than anyone. I still find myself doing or saying things that he did.
ANDY: I do that too, sometimes. Carry on things about exes that I liked by doing them myself.
ME: Like what?
ANDY: Like singing 'We Didn't Start the Fire' backwards.

I laughed.

ANDY: What about Darren? What did you like about him?
ME: I remember we started dating in the summer. I used to walk all over the city with him when it was nice out, then we'd go back to his room and--he used to smell fantastic.
ANDY: Wow, TMI.
ME: No, nothing weird. Just...like this great cologne. And he was just so...not innocent. Which I actually did want after James when I realized that innocent guys don't stay innocent and they don't stay in long relationships their first time out.
ANDY: And Mike? The perfect one?
ME: He always looked happy to see me.
ANDY: Sounds easy enough.
ME: You'd be surprised how hard that is for some people.

We talked about his old boyfriends, my career ambitions, his thoughts on culture, my thoughts on tomatoes (yuck), his family, my family, his childhood, where I see myself in ten years, what his favorite movie is (The Wizard of Oz), what my least favorite word is (flick), his favorite season (fall), and my favorite kind of dog (tie: Saint Bernard or Daschund).

We talked until around four in the morning and then I went home--not before kissing him good-bye though.

ME: And that was pretty much it.
FRIEND: Why didn't you talk about taking each other's clothes off?
ME: Because that would have led to--
FRIEND: A do-over? You can only hope.
ME: I actually liked doing this. It's like revising a paper for school. The second draft is always better.
FRIEND: Just don't make it a habit. Get in, get out, and get the job done.
ME: You have that philosophy with a lot of things, don't you?
FRIEND: I like that his name is Randy. It sounds bouncy and open-minded.
ME: And your name sounds?
FRIEND: It's Latvian for 'man who makes the jaws drop.'

I called Scooter the next day to compliment him.

ME: Your suggestion actually worked. I had a great time.
SCOOTER: Great. But before you take the kid out again, you might want to take Turner out for a drink.
ME: Why?
SCOOTER: He and Gary broke up this morning.

Um...

Wow.

Date #77: Old Wrongs

So Travis wasn't the only one from my past that wanted to make a reappearance.

I got a call about a week ago from a guy named Blake.

A few years ago, I was sort of...well...Blake's replacement in the group of friends we had back then.

BRIAN: 'Splain.
ME: Blake was in the closet, and I was fresh meat. The boys decided to subsitute one for the other.
BRIAN: A challenge for a challenge.
ME: Exactly.

Right after I got the call, I headed off to lunch at the N.C. to bounce the idea of a date with Blake off Brian.

BRIAN: So how did it happen?
ME: It actually was a little too...not complicated.
BRIAN: Huh?

Fall 2003

It was at a party at Teddy's place. Blake had gotten really drunk and was trying to get into everybody and anybody's pants. Even though this was only my third time hanging out with the group, I could tell that normally this wouldn't have been a problem--except now they were all putting on their pristine personas for my benefit. Travis kept brushing Blake off with a laugh, but Teddy and Allan looked downright disgusted.

Finally at around the same time we were all going to crash, Allan spoke his verdict.

ALLAN: Blake, why don't you let Teddy drive you home?

Blake was a little confused. This was supposed to be one, big happy gay sleep-over.

BLAKE: Why go home? I thought I was staying here?
ALLAN: We think you might do something you regret if you stay here.
BLAKE: That's what I'm counting on.

He laughed and moved to kiss Allan, but Allan dodged him and sent him flying into the chips table. That was when Allan exploded.

ALLAN: God, you're such a fucking idiot!
BLAKE: What's your problem?
TEDDY: Our problem is that for someone who's in the closet to everyone but the people in this room, you sure do get awfully affectionate once the liquor hits you and the heteros go home.
BLAKE: That's fucked up.
ALLAN: No, what's fucked up is that you won't go out in public with all of us because you're afraid one of your Helen-Keller-wannabe ex-girlfriends will see you and the secret that's no big secret will officially not be any kind of a secret at all.
BLAKE: Dude, you know my situation.
ALLAN: Yeah, and I'm kind of sick of having to deal with it. Anyone else?

Teddy, just like a true follower, raised his hand. Travis did the same. But, of course, Allan couldn't leave me out of it. The replacement had to have the final vote.

ALLAN: What do you think, Kevin? You're younger than Blake and already you have more balls than he does. Don't you think he should head on out?

I tried to make it sound diplomatic.

ME: If he's not comfortable, maybe he should just go. I mean, he's really drunk and--

That was all Blake needed.

BLAKE: Fine. But I'm too fucking drunk to drive.

Allan smiled.

ALLAN: Teddy can take you home.
TEDDY: Fuck that. I'm plastered too. Let him walk.

Lovely.

Allan then looked at me. And I remember thinking, no he's not going to make me do that. Not after what I just did.

ALLAN: Kevin, you drive him home and then come back, okay?

And that was that.

ME: That being the longest, quietest, most awful drive I've ever done.
BRIAN: Then you went back, right?
ME: Yeah, then I went back.
BRIAN: Sometimes it feels like junior high never ends.
ME: Oh, it ends alright. It ends tonight.
BRIAN: What happens tonight?
ME: Tonight I apologize to Blake for what I did. I'm going out to dinner with him.
BRIAN: He asked you out?
ME: Yup. Said he was in town and that he'd love to see me.
BRIAN: Wow. Guy must be pretty forgiving.
ME: Which just makes me feel all that much worse.
BRIAN: Then it's good that you'll get everything squared away, right?
ME: Right.

The place we went to for dinner was very nice. I don't know why, but I definitely went for the formal wear. I figured an apology would seem nicer if I did it while wearing a tie. Blake looked good after all this time, but still a little edgy--then again, while he was sober he always did seem kind of anxious to not be--sober. When he was sober he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin and walk away from it.

BLAKE: So I bet you're surprised I asked to see you tonight.
ME: I figure you're just a way bigger person than I was four years ago.
BLAKE: Nah, I just thought I'd let bygones be bygones.
ME: That's really nice of you, Blake.
BLAKE: So how's everything been going?
ME: Okay. I graduated college.
BLAKE: Good for you!
ME: Yeah, now I'm just trying to figure out my future.
BLAKE: That's the phrase you use now, huh? 'Figure out my future.'
ME: Huh?
BLAKE: When I graduated it was 'Sorting out my life.' Like a life is a closet, you know?
ME: Interesting choice of words.

He laughed. Good sign.

BLAKE: It's just that after college usually you're all--
ME: Yeah, very true. I guess I'm not in a big hurry.
BLAKE: Good for you.

It was then that my cell phone started going off like crazy. It was Travis. He hadn't called me in a few days, so I thought maybe something was wrong.

ME: I'm really sorry. I usually don't take calls--
BLAKE: It's no big deal. I have to use the men's room anyway.

So when he left the table, I answered the phone.

ME: Travis, what's up?
TRAVIS: Tell me you're not with Blake right now.

Uh...weird. I didn't tell him I was going to be seeing Blake. I didn't think he'd take it too well.

ME: How did you know?
TRAVIS: Because he called me a couple days ago.
ME: Why?
TRAVIS: Looking for a hook-up. Why else?

Na-who-what-what?

ME: I'm out to dinner with him right now.
TRAVIS: He took Teddy out to dinner last night. I read it in his away message.
ME: So--wait--I don't get it.
TRAVIS: Must have been craving some old-time action.
ME: Oh come on.
TRAVIS: Why not? We're probably still in a very small group of people who know that he likes guys.
ME: Travis, it's been four years.
TRAVIS: So I take it you don't know that he's engaged?

Oh Christ...

Blake was walking back over to the table.

ME: Gotta go.

I hung up the phone. Blake sat down.

ME: I have to ask you something.
BLAKE: Okay.
ME: Just answer 'Yes' or 'No.'
BLAKE: Okay.
ME: Did you bring me here tonight to try and get me in bed?
BLAKE: Kevin--
ME: Yes or No? Kevin is neither one.

A dramatic pause.

BLAKE: Yes.
ME: Did you try that with Teddy last night?
BLAKE: Yes.
ME: Did it work?
BLAKE: Yup.
ME: Fuck off.
BLAKE: Are you done?
ME: No. Are you engaged?
BLAKE: Yes.
ME: Do you have any shame at all?
BLAKE: Nope.

Wow.

ME: So what was all this then?
BLAKE: Me settling the score. The boys tossed me out like I was nothing. Then lo and behold a couple years later when you're all down and out living on the east side and doing nothing with your lives, banging a closet case suddenly seems appealing again. At least it did to Teddy and Allan--Travis still seems to be the one with some dignity.
ME: That makes two of us.
BLAKE: Oh, but you weren't going to be sex for revenge. I just wanted to see what it is I got replaced with, you know?
ME: Let's just say you should thank me. Those little mean girls were hell to deal with, especially Allan, and you should have warned me on the drive back to your house that night instead of pouting because your fuck buddies cut you loose.
BLAKE: I knew you'd find out one day--once they used you up like they used me.
ME: You wanted to be used; I didn't.
BLAKE: Oh, didn't you? Were you really as stupid as all of us thought you were?

So basically there's no good answer to anything he has to say.

BLAKE: I guess dinner is over.
ME: Oh, it's not over yet. I came here to apologize, and I'm going to, because even though you turned out to be an asshole, I ended up turning into an asshole myself that night, and I want to apologize for that.
BLAKE: Apology accepted and disregarded.
ME: Fine, but let me also add this--if you go through with this marriage, I'll find out about it, and I'll also find out where it is you and your lovely new wife are going to be living, and then if I find out you're putting out calls for hook-ups, be it online, texting, or otherwise, I'm going to send your wife a nice little note attached to a card with a divorce lawyer's name on it.
BLAKE: Don't you fucking threaten me.
ME: Don't you act like I could have more to lose than you could. I'm sick of every gay guy I know going out with guys in the closet and acting like it's okay to let them hit 21, and 24, and 28, and 30 and still not come out! And be proud like they've landed a catch because they got to you--not before you had sex with half the state--but before you actually took responsibility for yourself! Look at what I got guys! A guy completely in denial who won't hold my hand in public! Ain't he a catch?! Hell, even I've done it! And that's just the gay people, forget everyone else! I'm so sick of this entire country giving you fucking self-haters a free pass to do whatever you want and then sit idly by while you make mockeries out of the rest of us by getting married and having kids and then fucking everybody up that you come into contact with once you finally get the balls to do what you should have done at age eighteen.
BLAKE: Guess we can't all be as brave as you, huh, Kevin?
ME: I'm not brave. I'm a fucking chickenshit--biggest one you're ever going to meet. But getting drunk every night just to be able to bed some catty male slut and then go home and cry in my pillow? That takes a lot more than bravery. That takes a level of self-deception I just don't have, Blake. And the way I see it, if you're brave enough to have sex with a guy, you should be brave enough to say you're gay. Gay guys haven't been getting the shit kicked out of them for decades just so guys like you can come along to get a blowjob whenever you want it and then pass yourself off as straight. You shouldn't be able to use the equipment until you join the gym.
BLAKE: Thanks for the grandstanding. One last thing. How many times did Allan have to fuck you before he told you to hit the road?

I would have thrown water on him, but that seemed way to childish. Instead, I took the wine he was drinking and flung it on his clearly expensive shirt.

ME: Good luck with the wedding. And remember, be good.

And with that, I left.

FRIEND: Honey, I got some on me and I wasn't even there! That was fierce.
ME: Guys like him are a dime a dozen. Especially since it seems like in the gay community, gay guys run to self-loathing closet cases the way teenage girls run to bad boys.
FRIEND: There's nothing more satisfying than having sex with a guy right before he marries a woman.
ME: Have you been listening to a word I've said?
FRIEND: I'm sorry what was that? I was making an album on facebook.
ME: The worst part was hearing he slept with Allan.
FRIEND: Because...?
ME: Because it means Allan's back in town.

After I left the restaurant, I convinced Travis to go to karaoke with me.

As we were entering the bar, I ruminated--

ME: We had a fucked up group back then, didn't we?
TRAVIS: Yes, we did. You got a better group now.
ME: Yeah, I got a much better group now.

Upon entering, I could hear Nick and Turner singing the beginning of "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire.

Remember kids, you did then what you knew how to do, and when you knew better, you did better. That's M.A. for you, and she's friends with Oprah, so you know she's on the ball.

Date #76: The Language Barrier

It's amazing what you'll try to make work when you're dealing with a decent smile.

Eduardo and I met while I was helping him on a project for his college course in Contemporary American Drama. He had come into the library a couple of times, and I mostly just took him as shy. It wasn't until we were on our first date that I realized what the major problem was going to be concerning the two of us actually making a connection.

ME: He can't speak English.
BRIAN: Que?
ME: Exactly.

I was filling Brian in over Greek salads at the N.C.

BRIAN: I don't understand. He's in college and he can't speak English.
ME: He can speak well enough to get by, but he's not fluid by any means.
BRIAN: And you never noticed this before?
ME: He was always really quiet before!
BRIAN: He's hot, isn't he?
ME: Well of course!

I was already feeling stupid enough as it was.

BRIAN: And he does well in school?
ME: Brian, he goes to Brown. They love the international flavor there.
BRIAN: So how bad was it?

It was pretty...quiet.

ME: So...how's your course going?
EDUARDO: Is going well. Miller, brilliant, yes.
ME: Yes, Arthur Miller is quite brilliant.
EDUARDO: My father--like the men.
ME: He likes men?
EDUARDO: Willie. He likes Willie.
ME: Well, I believe that's a choice.
EDUARDO: Uh...?
ME: Wait--Willie Loman? Like in Death of a Salesman?
EDUARDO: Yes! Salesman.

Great. I just insinuated that his father was gay, when really he was complimenting Miller's masterwork.

BRIAN: So for the most part--
ME: We just kind of sat there.
BRIAN: Sounds fun.
ME: It's not like he didn't try.

At several points throughout the dinner attempts were made that sounded something like this:

EDUARDO: You go places much?
ME: I like going out occasionally. Yeah.
EDUARDO: For fun, dancing, music?
ME: All of the above.
EDUARDO: Lots of boys finger you?
ME: Um...no....
EDUARDO: Um...point...point you out. Must say you are good looking.
ME: Yes, I am. I mean, they--sometimes--not often, no.

This was like being on a date with Borat--with less chest hair, thank God.

BRIAN: So you got a fun story out of it. No big loss.
ME: Yeah, it actually would have been kind of funny, had it not led to him trying to get in my pants.
BRIAN: Ohhh...

I drove him back to his dorm where he insinuated that he would like to greet my Willie Loman.

EDUARDO: You come stay over. I give you great time.
ME: That's okay. I think it would be a bad idea.
EDUARDO: We take off this. We take off that.
ME: How about I just take off? How does that sound?
EDUARDO: I finger you out as good time.
ME: No, no fingering. Enough with the fingering.

After another minute or two, he got the hint and I went home.

BRIAN: Good for you. I can't understand those guys who see who are dating foreign guys that can barely form sentences.
ME: I'll tell you why. It's because really hot gay guys will not date guys from this country.
BRIAN: What are you talking about?
ME: It's like they reach this level of hotness and they become too hot for American gay guys. Like Nate Berkus--
BRIAN: The Oprah guy?
ME: Yeah! That guy he was dating? Foreign.
BRIAN: Also passed away in the tsunami, Mr. Sensitive.
ME: I'm just saying. How do you do that? How do you date someone you can't even talk to?
BRIAN: It's amazing what a little foreign flavor will convince you of.

I don't know why I get ticked off about stuff like that. Then again, I feel like there's a limited number of decent guys in the American Gay Dating Pool--we don't need to open it up to other countries just yet. There's barely enough to go around as it is.

ME: Can you believe that?
FRIEND: What I can't believe is your close-mindedness. Love knows no language.
ME: You're saying I should have tried harder?
FRIEND: I'm saying the only phrases you needed to teach him were 'Watch the teeth' and 'Loosen up your grip.'
ME: I think sleeping with someone who'd have trouble getting through a citizenship test might be sinking to a new level of sluttiness.
FRIEND: Speaking of new levels of sluttiness, I've been into Russian guys lately. Do they have those mail order catalogs for gay boys?
ME: That you're going to have to Yahoo for yourself, my friend.

With every passing date, my preferences become more and more clear.

Newest preference: Speak the same language as me.

Wow, I've been hanging out with Dwight too much. This entire entry makes me sound way too conservative.

I'll have to make up for that next time...

Wink.

Date #75: Top to Bottom

Wow, I'm three quarters of the way done with the blog.

Being the celebratory person that I am, I decided to celebrate entering April by taking some of the boys out to dinner.

Brian, Turner, Nick, and I all got dressed up and had ourselves an official Boys Night Out (use the term loosely if you like). The plan was to eat then go out to the club. The conversation at the dinner table turned to me and my latest crazy offer.

NICK: I would have gone.
ME: To London? I didn't even know the guy!

It just goes to show the difference between boys and girls. My friend Ali read the entry and IMed me to make sure I hadn't been stupid enough to run off to another continent with some boy I barely knew, and all the gay guys I knew were calling me to make sure I was on the first plane out of town. Common sense be damned amongst the gays.

TURNER: You don't take risks, Kevin. You're very much in your comfort zone.
ME: There's nothing wrong with having a comfort zone. That's why it's called a comfort zone. It's meant to be stayed in because it's so...comfortable.

Granted, I'm not too good at making arguments for my utter lameness.

BRIAN: Connor always talked about how cute he thought that it was that you were so sheltered.

A hush fell over the table. Brian had never discussed Connor with me so casually; and he had especially never discussed Connor discussing me with him with me.

Um...yeah, that works.

I tossed it off. I was glad that we could get past the 'you dated someone I date and we're friends' thing.

ME: First off, not being a Newport playboy hardly makes me sheltered--
BRIAN: I was just using his terminology.
ME: Second of all, if he did find that cute; that's pretty idiotic. It's a minor character flaw. I recognize that I'm a little blah sometimes, and it's something I need to work on.
TURNER: Kevin, it's not a flaw. Everybody's sheltered in some way.
ME: It's okay, Turner. You don't have to make excuses for my grey-toned existence.
TURNER: No, it's true.
BRIAN: It is true. Besides, Connor broke up with me for the same reason he stopped talking to you, and that had to do with being...limited.

Uh...what? I never did find out why Connor stopped talking to me, but I assumed it was just the old 'one day he stopped calling for no reason' thing--I never thought there was an actual issue at hand there.

ME: What are you talking about?
BRIAN: I...I thought you knew.
ME: Uh, no, but now I want to.
BRIAN: It's not really...dinner conversation.
NICK: Are we at the Ritz Carlton?
TURNER: Even if we were--we're us. What difference does it make?
BRIAN: It's sort of--personal.
ME: Personal, and yet, I have no idea what it is.
BRIAN: I thought you did.
ME: I don't. So spill. Whatever it is, I doubt I'm going to be embarrassed by it. We're all friends here. If it's some personal trait of mine that's unappealing, you guys are probably already aware of it.

Brian looked like he really didn't want to say anything. That only made me want to force it out of him more.

BRIAN: It's...sexual.
ME: Is it because I wouldn't pee on him?

Nick spit out his drink--just like in a Buster Keaton movie, I kid you not.

ME: It was a joke, Nick.
NICK: You never know with you.
BRIAN: It's just--it's stupid. I thought it was stupid of him to break up with me for it.
ME: It must have been somewhat important if it broke up the two of you and caused him to stop calling me.
BRIAN: Not really.
TURNER: Gay guys can be fickle. I bet it's because you wear too much plaid.
BRIAN: That would cause anyone to stop calling, but that's not it.
ME: Brian!
BRIAN: It's because you and me and Connor are all tops!

He said it so loud that the three tables nearest us all stopped their conversations and froze in place. One woman's spoon actually hovered an inch from her mouth.

TURNER: Okay, well that settles that.

I was shocked. First off, I'm pretty sure Connor and I never had any discussion about what we "are" sexually, and secondly, if that really is the reason he stopped calling, then...then...

Who does that?

ME: I never told him I was a top.
TURNER: Guys--
BRIAN: I guess he just assumed.
TURNER: Should we be talking about--
ME: Turner, we're all adults here.
TURNER: Adults in public.
NICK: Oh, so those four white girls can talk about swallowing over brunch at a diner on Sex and the City but we can't talk about sexual preferences?
TURNER: Fine, I've been overruled.

I was becoming more livid by the minute.

ME: I mean we never even had a conversation that would--
NICK: So you're not a top?
ME: No, well, I am, but--
BRIAN: There you go. He probably just sensed it.
ME: Oh, come on, you can't tell.
TURNER: Apparently he could tell.
ME: He could have been wrong.
NICK: But he wasn't.
ME: I can't always tell!
BRIAN, NICK, and TURNER: I can.

We were veering from the subject, but the boys were already taking advantage of the fact that Pandora's Positional Box had been opened.

TURNER: Everyone always thinks I'm a bottom at first.
ME: You're not?
TURNER: Nope. Total top.
NICK: I'm vers.
BRIAN: I don't mind bottoming, but I wasn't going to do it for Connor.
TURNER: Why not?
BRIAN: Are you kidding? I would have had to practice with horse tranquilizers first.
ME: THAT'S WHY HE STOPPED CALLING?

They all looked at me like it made perfect sense.

NICK: Kevin, once that's the case, there's really no point in pursuing anything.
ME: We were past the point of pursuing anything anyway, but still--
BRIAN: It renders you incompatible.
ME: It does not! My first boyfriend and I never did that, and we had a perfectly healthy sex life and a great relationship that lasted almost a year.
TURNER: Didn't most of that sex life take place in your car outside a country club?
ME: We were in high school!

Well, he was anyway...

ME: Not the point! The point is, that should not be the determining factor of whether or not you stay with someone! Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?
NICK: I don't think not being able to have sex with someone is so ridiculous.
ME: You can still be intimate.
BRIAN: But you can't really have sex.
ME: In case you haven't noticed, we're gay. We can't really have sex the way you're really supposed to have sex.
TURNER: Thank you, 700 Club.

Why was everyone ganging up on me?

BRIAN: Look, you won't date people who smoke, Connor won't date people who top. It's just a preference.
ME: Bullshit. It's guys caring more about sex than connection. Just like always.
BRIAN: If that's the way you feel--
ME: That's the way I feel.

And that was that.

Of course, as soon as I got home, I called Connor.

CONNOR: What a nice surprise.
ME: Cut the shit. Did you stop talking to me because I'm not a bottom.
CONNOR: Oh Christ...
ME: That's my line.
CONNOR: What?
ME: Never mind. Did you?
CONNOR: Kevin, I didn't stop talking to you because you weren't a bottom.
ME: Thank you.
CONNOR: I stopped talking to because I had a very good feeling you wouldn't bottom.
ME: I'm not sure I see the difference there.
CONNOR: You're someone who's just very tame sexually, and that's not what I'm looking for.
ME: Not wanting to do one thing makes me tame?
CONNOR: I have a feeling it's more than one--
ME: You have a lot of feelings, you know that? Unfortunately sensitivity isn't one of them.
CONNOR: Kevin--

Done. I was so mad I knew I needed to go for a walk somewhere to cool down. Luckily, I thought I'd be able to kill two birds with one stone. I was supposed to hang out with this guy Troy--so I suggested a little walk on the beach to talk advantage of the nice weather.

I've known Troy for awhile--about a year or so--but we've never managed to get a date together until now. He's a decent, mild-tempered kind of guy. Strong and silent type, if you will. Since we already knew each other fairly well, we just conversed like two friends. I, of course, had only one topic on my mind.

ME: Would you stop talking to someone for something like that?
TROY: If I didn't feel we clicked sexually, then yeah, maybe.
ME: But we did click sexually.
TROY: Clearly, he didn't feel that way.
ME: He felt that I was too tame.
TROY: Are you?
ME: I don't think so, but he and I never really got close to the point where I could be...you know...where I could really relax with him.
TROY: I guess some guys just don't give other guys a chance to show their true personalities.
ME: Yeah, I guess.

We got something to eat then went back to Troy's place to hang out and watch television. I could slowly feel those old urges of wanting to prove someone wrong creep back into my psyche. All of a sudden, I just wanted to let loose the crazy, sexual animal that is...um...me.

Troy and I started kissing, but he caught onto what was happening before we got too far along.

TROY: I think you might be doing this for the wrong reasons.
ME: No, I'm not. I'm doing this for me. To expand my--whatever. I don't want to be thought of as limited.
TROY: There's nothing wrong with being--
ME: Shut up and take your shirt off!

And strangely enough, he did. Then my shirt came off, and somehow we wound up on his bed about to bring things to the next level when I had a thought--which usually means something bad is about to happen.

ME: What's the craziest thing you want to do right now?
TROY: Huh?
ME: Craziest thing--name it, we'll do it.
TROY: Kevin--
ME: Troy, just let loose. Don't restrict yourself.

Now I was sounding like a life coach.

ME: What do you want, Troy. Tell me what you want.
TROY: I want--
ME: That's it. What do you want?
TROY: I want you to just enjoy yourself.
ME: Ahhh! Don't say stuff like that. Be honest! Don't be a wimp!
TROY: Yes!
ME: What?
TROY: I'm a wimp! I'm sorry!
ME: No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you a wimp.

Why was I having this conversation naked?

TROY: Yes, I am. I'm a pathetic wimp.
ME: No, Troy, you're--
TROY: Tell me what a sorry piece of trash I am.

Ohhh...I get it. I'd just experienced this six dates ago (Date #69: Indulge Me) but that time I was with the dominator--this time I was with the dominated. But I wasn't going to back out. I was going to challenge myself and go with it.

ME: Um, you're a sorry piece of trash.
TROY: And?
ME: You're...um...really stupid.
TROY: Yeah, I am. Oh f**k, I am.

Dear God, he was actually getting into this.

ME: And...you're...dumb, too. You're a dumbass.
TROY: That's right. I'm a dirty f**king dumbass.
ME: Yeah, dumbass. Could you get any...dumber?
TROY: What do you want this dirty dumbass to do? He'll do anything?

I wanted him to stop calling himself a dumbass. That was number one.

ME: Just shut up.

He did, but he moaned instead.

ME: No moaning!

He stopped.

ME: Now, just close your eyes and...um...

What the hell was I supposed to do now? Make his bedspread disappear?

ME: Um...so...
TROY: Slap my face.
ME: I'm sorry.
TROY: I'm sorry! I won't talk!
ME: No, you're going to have to. I don't know what to do.
TROY: Slap my face!
ME: Won't that hurt?
TROY: Do it!

So I did. Very lightly.

TROY: Harder.

Argh, fine. I slapped him semi-hard.

TROY: MAKE ME YOUR SLUT!

I reared back and slapped him. Like--Alexis Carrington meets Valerie on 90210 slapped him. Immediately, I felt awful.

TROY: Ouch!
ME: I'm so sorry!
TROY: Do it again!

That was when I called a halt to the whole evening.

And about half an hour later, I was at Dwight's house.

DWIGHT: He was into dirty talk, huh?
ME: No, he was into being dominated.
DWIGHT: That's pretty kinky.
ME: I don't understand how demeaning someone is hot.
DWIGHT: It's not--not to everyone anyway.
ME: And I proved Connor right. I am tame.
DWIGHT: Kevin, you are not tame.
ME: Yes, I am.
DWIGHT: Speaking from someone whose seen the way you are with your friends, how protective you get, how you look at someone when you admire them, how you make people laugh--Kevin, speaking as someone whose been kissed by you, there is nothing but passion radiating through your entire body.

It's moments like these where Dwight could almost convince me to vote Republican.

It still didn't feel any better being in a category though, but pat of me felt like there was nothing I could do about it.

FRIEND: Honey, what have I always told you? Deep, soothing breaths and you'll be fine.
ME: I just wish all of this weren't such a big deal.
FRIEND: People who try to say sex isn't a big deal are either getting cheated on or castrated.
ME: What about other forms of affection? Kissing, cuddling--
FRIEND: Who cuddles? People still cuddle? I don't cuddle.
ME: So for you, it's a deal-breaker.
FRIEND: Well, no, honey, because Daddy is equal-opportunity. I don't care what you are as long as I don't have to call you the next day.
ME: But do you think I'm tame for not being able to do what that guy wanted?
FRIEND: If you'd continued on with that freak, I'd be calling you an idiot and smacking your ass with a paddle--Oh wait, you'd like that.
ME: Good to know I can always come to you when questioning my decisions in life.

Before I officially let the subject drop...

ME: So how do you tell?
DWIGHT: You just get a feeling.
ME: So, let's say Scooter--
DWIGHT: Top, clearly.
ME: Yeah, and...just out of curiosity...
DWIGHT: I don't top.
ME: Really?
DWIGHT: See, it does make you a little happy, doesn't it?

Okay, maybe just a little...

Smile