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Date #100: The Big Date

I see a dark stage.

There's a staircase--a long, high staircase like the kind in old 1920's musicals. At the top of the staircase is a guy.

The music to "All I Want for Christmas" starts.

I hear singing.

I didn't want to be date thirty
Twenty two or sixty-three

A spotlight comes up on Nick--he's the guy at the top of the staircase.

I just want that great big number
That's the only date for me
I just want to be the one
Standing there when Froggy's done

Lights shine through all over the place revealing lots of people onstage.

You know that it's true
Kevin, make me Date #100
...With you

Suddenly the lights blare--Nick, Dwight, Scooter, Brian, Turner, and all the other boys are there. They're all in tuxes, and they have...choreography.

I don't want to be a rebound
I cannot be second best

BRIAN:

I don't want to stand there waiting
While you go and date the rest

TURNER:

I won't make plans till I know if
You're hanging out with Dwight or Nick

SCOOTER
I'll be up all night awake and--
Dreaming of that perfect--

TURNER: Scooter!

DWIGHT:

'Cause I want you to end the fun
Knowing that you've found the one
What more can I do?
Broccoli, make me Date 100 With you

All of a sudden there are canes and top hats. I think they're forming a kick line.

NICK:

All the boys you've dated
Never seem to work out
And it sounds like you don't even
Know what that's about

BRIAN:

And everyone is asking
Why you keep multi-tasking

TURNER:

Kevin, won't you please

BOYS:

Please!

SCOOTER:

Come on, get down on your knees

NICK: Scooter!

DWIGHT:

Won't you please say that
You're picking me-e-e-e?

Now they're tapping. I think trapezes and trampolines might even be involved.

NICK:

Oh, I don't want to be the first date
After all the fuss is gone
I just want to be your baby
I've been waiting all year long

I just want to end things right
Tell me that it's me tonight
What more can I do?
Kevin, make me date 100

With you...

BOYS:

Make me Date 100 with you
Baby!

Nick proceeds to riff as--

I sit up in bed in a cold sweat.

ME: And that is why I should not have gone to Christmas in July at Dark Lady.

BRIAN: Keyword: July.

I was recounting my dream to Brian the next day at the N.C.

BRIAN: Kevin, it's taking you forever to write this last entry.
ME: Could that be because I haven't gone on the date yet?
BRIAN: Possibly. Why haven't you?
ME: Because I don't want to end things the way I think they're going to end.
BRIAN: With you in the shower weeping?
ME: Pretty much.

Let's face it. What kind of an ending was this going to be? All great finales have some sort of grandness about them. All the old characters come back. There's a death. A birth. A marriage. Bob Newhart wakes up next to his wife from his first show! Stuff like that!

BRIAN: But this isn't a tv show. This is your life. It's not going to have a tidy little bow at the end of it.
ME: It's also not going to have a boyfriend at the end of it.
BRIAN: Just as long as it doesn't end with you standing at the head of a table with all of your friends looking at you while you say--
ME: All of you are the loves of my life. Yeah, that's lame.
BRIAN: You should let J.K. Rowling write the last blog for you.
ME: She'd probably dub Scooter 'He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Screwed.'

How was I going to find the guy for Date #100? Should it be someone new? Just keep it simple and do a regular date and sign off with elegance and poise? Or go out with someone I know will end things with a bang.

BRIAN: What about Ryan Gosling? That would awesome.
ME: Yeah, unfortunately, I don't live inside the wardrobe, Lucy. Come back to reality.
BRIAN: Oh God, Amy's calling me.
ME: Wow, haven't heard that name in awhile.
BRIAN: Yeah, after I read your hag entry where she scared you off, I realized I didn't really even like her. I just kept her around because I'd known her for so long.
ME: I think that might be why I keep you around.
BRIAN: Hardy har har. Why don't you kill me off in the big finale?
ME: Will you stop calling it a big finale?
BRIAN: I can't help it. It is a big deal.
ME: Even now that I'm looking to get the hell out of this state as fast as I can so that meeting someone might just be pointless?
BRIAN: Yes, even now.
ME: Why?
BRIAN: Because you could meet someone who might want to make you stay.
ME: Mmm, somehow I doubt that.

And Now, a Message from the Boys

ROQUE: Hey Kev, good luck on your 100th Date. If you ever want to take another spin on that coffee table, you just let me know. Rock out with your c**k out, man.

JEFF: Hi Kevin. If you ever reconsider filming your blog, I'll still willing to make it into the summer blockbuster it deserves to be.

This summer...

Get down! Get down!

One man

He's got a gun!

No I don't!

100 Boys

Yes, you do. You have to have a gun. It's suspenseful!

The World's Biggest Gangbang

What? Nobody's getting gangbanged!

In a world, where men long to be gangbanged...

Stop that!

JEFF: Still have to iron out the kinks, but you get the picture.
BROCK: Speaking of getting the picture, I'd love to be a cameraman on the project...now that I know gangbanging is involved.

This summer...
100 Dates, 100 Boys

And One Big Gangbang

Oh Christ...

JEROME: Kevin, I heard you were thinking of leaving Rhode Island now that your blog is finished. So I thought I'd send you off...with a song. P.S. I'm totally going down the octave, so don't judge.

We're all so sure
We're all so wise
No limits
No boundaries
No compromise.

God, I love me some Wild Party. Andrew Lippa, when are we getting a new musical, huh? Vamp, vamp, vamp--Come on, Terry. Bring me home!

TERRY: Happy 100 Dates, Kevin!

JEROME

Times go by
Plans grow stale
People die--GASP!
And parties fail...
How did we come to this?

The issue of me leaving seemed to make everyone uncomfortable. Even though everyone I know has at some point talked about moving, somehow the idea of me moving just shocked everyone to a state of constant discomfort.

TURNER: It's just that before you were someone who was here. Who was staying here. Now you're someone whose leaving.
ME: But not right away.
TURNER: Still, your status has been moved to 'leaving.' It's like you're different now.

Turner and I were at Paye's picking him up from a dance class since his car was in the shop. We had decided to see if we remembered some old ballroom moves while we waited and discussed the big date.

TURNER: I like the idea of bringing people back from the previous dates.
ME: And how would I go about doing that?
TURNER: I don't know. Reunion show?

Broccoli of Love
The Reunion Show

Hosted by La La

LA LA: Snobby Gays, what do you have to say to Kevin?
DREW (SNOBBY GAY #1): We would have rocked his world.
VINCENT (SNOBBY GAY #2): By the way, we'll be performing at Coochie's on the Strip all week.
LA LA: There's a Strip in Providence?
CHRISTOPHER: La La, can I address these bitches?
DREW: Who you calling bitches?
CRAZY CLEAN AND SOBER: Y'all need to shut your asses up! This is why none of you got a second date!
LA LA: Okay, why don't we--
ANTHONY: Yo, you didn't get no second date either, pizzle. So why you talking?
CRAZY CLEAN AND SOBER: I know this south county trash isn't speaking to me.
ANTHONY: Who you calling trash?
DREW: I'm about to cut somebody!
LA LA: Okay, commercial!
BROCK: Why don't you all fight naked and then I can film it?
LA LA: Commercial!

Up Next:
Kirk Cameron is 55
...And Christian

ME: Forget it. I can't stand La La.
TURNER: Me either. Whose name is actually La La?
ME: Hookers and Nick Toon characters.

At this point, Turner tried taking over the lead, and I let him, only because I still have no rhythm or sense of movement.

TURNER: Just as long as you're happy, Kev. That's what's important.
ME: I'm happy I guess. It's just weird realizing that everything you thought your life was going to be--
TURNER: Stop! There is no way of finishing that sentence without sounding cliched.
ME: You're right. Suffice it to say, after 100 dates, I thought I'd have met that perfect guy by now.
TURNER: Maybe you're not ready to meet him. Maybe that's what all this has taught you. That your life right now isn't going to be about dating someone.
ME: I can see your point. It's just...
TURNER: Yeah?
ME: I never had a bad day that ended with falling asleep next to someone and hearing 'I love you.'

Turner dipped me.

TURNER: You'll know that feeling again. You're only 23. Stop acting like your life is over. You've got friends who love you. A job. And you're skinny as hell.
ME: And you're not?
TURNER: I'm just saying.

He lifted me up just as Paye walked over.

PAYE: I see you're being swept off your feet.
ME: I'm lucky I wasn't swept onto my ass.
PAYE: Still psyching yourself out over Date 100?
ME: Does everybody know that I'm freaking?
TURNER: You've gone out on 99 dates. How about giving yourself a break?
ME: I will. But first I need to close out the blog.
TURNER: Then get to it, boy.

Easier said than done.

And Now, a Message from the Boys

GERRY: Kevin, it was a pleasure being one of your dates. Of course, it wasn't the first time I've made it into a blog. I'm often quoted on Arianna Huffington's blog. That's how Anderson Cooper found me, and...Well...the rest is history.
ANTHONY: Bitch, your ass better stay away from Anderson Cooper! That shit's all mine!

MARK: Kevin, if it hadn't been for you, Oliver and I would never have found each other.
OLIVER: I just love shooting my #$%* all Mark's #$#%.
MARK: He does. And he loves talking about it even more.
TROY: And occasionally even I get involved.
OLIVER: He's a dirty little #$*&# licker this one.
TROY: Stop Oliver, you're getting me hot and bothered.
OLIVER: You're a dirty little wimp.
TROY: God, take me now!
OLIVER: Can't we just talk about it some more?
MARK: Thanks, Kevin!

NELSON: You made more than one happy couple, Kevin.
UNDERAGE BOY: You have me and Nelson singing 'Matchmaker, Matchmaker.'
NELSON: And as soon as I beat this statutory rape charge--
UNDERAGE BOY: We're moving in together!
NELSON: Isn't love grand?

BEN: Speaking as one of your exes, I have to say that I was really impressed by the blog. You've come a long way, baby.
TRAVIS: Yeah, you definitely have. From the hard times and the good.
BEN: We want...to celebrate you...baby.
TRAVIS: We want to praise you like we--
BEN: Travis, we're reciting the lyrics to 'Praise You' by Fatboy Slim.
TRAVIS: I know. I gave it to the teleprompter guy when I couldn't think of anything original to say. Besides, messages from your exes are awkward.
BEN: Maybe you're an ex because you're a wackjob who quotes a 90's techno artist instead of coming up with his own thoughts.
TRAVIS: Fine, let's hear some of your original thoughts.
BEN: Um...Kevin, you're going to get knocked down...but you'll get up again. You only get what you give.
TRAVIS: Very true. You only get what you give.

My, I have a lovely looking track record.

SCOOTER: That can't be physically possible.
ME: Scooter, it's not rocket science.
SCOOTER: Are you sure?

Scooter and I were at his house--in his basement--watching tv, and since this is the end of the blog as we know it, and since he has been a good friend to it, I figured I'd give him a little treat.

I told him what the Ashton Kutcher was.

SCOOTER: I can't do that to someone. I could pull something--on me or them!
ME: Hey, I didn't say you were going to like it.
SCOOTER: I like it. I'm just not sure I can do it.
ME: All the better.

Something about Scooter's frown suggested that he was hoping it was more of a universal move. I decided to change the subject.

ME: How did the poll on your blog turn out?
SCOOTER: Half my readers think you should make me Date 100.
ME: Right, and the other half that aren't insane?
SCOOTER: Twenty percent said Charlie, and twenty percent said Jesse.
ME: And the other ten percent?
SCOOTER: Split up amongst Dwight, Danny, the Snobby Gays, and your Friend.
ME: Your readers are no help.
SCOOTER: You know if you'd let me call my cousin who knows Reichen--
ME: Forget it, Scooter.
SCOOTER: Okay.

In five...four...three...two...

SCOOTER: So, since you're here, do you want to fool around?
ME: Good to know you'll never let me down.

The Final Rose Ceremony

Standing before me, I have Charlie and Jesse. I only hold one rose in my hand.

ME: Guys, this has been a really tough decision.
CHARLIE: Wait a minute, are you for real with this? You're actually going to dismiss one of us and give the other guy a rose?
ME: That's how it works.
JESSE: Kev, no offense, but you're not exactly Andrew Firestone.
ME: Yeah, well I don't see a Trista standing in front of me either.
CHARLIE: Hey, we both could have been the one, but you blew it.
ME: Um, that's only because I decided to be nice and leave certain things out of the blog.

BROCK: I'm filming all this.

ME: Will you go away please?
CHARLIE: What do you mean you left stuff out?
ME: Um, like how your moods changed faster than a runway model during Fashion Week or how you never called on my birthday.
JESSE: Wow, you did that?
ME: Oh Jesse, I wouldn't critique if I were you. After all, you have slept with Allan since I've met you, right?
JESSE: It's hard. I mean, he's right across the hall.
ME: I'm sorry I can't put a happy little smile on everything, because I'm sure the viewers are going to be disappointed but...

Next Up on the Fantasy Channel--

...Some things just aren't as appealing once you know all about them. That's one thing I've learned from this little experiment.

And a phone's ringing.

No, it's really ringing.

ME: Hello?
VOICE: Hey, this is Kevin, right?
ME: Yeah, it's me. Who's this?
VOICE: The guy whose number you deleted.
ME: Uh, what do you--Oh my God!

I think that was the moment I fell out of bed and landed on my copy of Against the Day by Thomas Pynchon, which broke my fall.

DWIGHT: So now are you going to tell me who this guy is?
ME: He's this guy I went on a perfect date with five years ago who never called me back after the date.

I was helping Dwight and his mother pack for their annual trip to their family's beach house in Cape Cod. I had been invited to join them, but I wasn't sure I could handle them both--even just on the way there.

MRS. BROWN: Did he say why he never called back?
DWIGHT: Probably because he's a tool.
ME: Apparently he went through some huge identity crisis.
DWIGHT: Sounds like a real winner.
MRS. BROWN: Dwight, don't be bitter.
DWIGHT: I learned from the best, Mother.
ME: I think...I think he's going to be the 100th date.

Mrs. Brown looked delight, Dwight not so much.

MRS. BROWN: That's wonderful, Kevin. Make it a good one.
ME: I'll try.

She gave me a hug and then left the room to go find her hemp sweater.

ME: I know you're not thrilled.
DWIGHT: I just...I guess I always hoped you'd come around.
ME: Dwight, if it's any consolation--you can do so much better than me.
DWIGHT: I don't want to do better than you. You would be fine.
ME: Wow, I always forget what a good sweet talker you are.
DWIGHT: So could this guy be the one?
ME: I thought he was...five years ago...now I'm not so sure.
DWIGHT: What a perfect little ending.
ME: I wonder if this happened because I needed it to so badly.
DWIGHT: Sometimes life is just appropriate like that. It gives good people a break.

He went back to folding shirts, but I walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

ME: You know I love you more than my luggage, right?
DWIGHT: Yes, Clairee, I do.

And Now, a Message from the Boys

VINNIE: Kevin, in honor of your last date, the Republican Gay Men's Chorus has decided to reenact one of the scenes from your favorite movie. Hit it!

A restaurant, with a family gathered around a large table...and a homosexual.

Wait, is this My Best Friend's Wedding? With gay Republicans?

ADAM:

The moment I wake up
Before I put on my make-up

REPUBLICAN GAYS:

I say a little prayer for you

JACK

At work I just take time
And all through my coffee break time

REPUBLICAN GAYS

I say a little prayer for you

ALL

Forever and ever

MARTIN

You'll stay in my heart
And I will love you

ALL
Forever and ever

BIG BAG BOY: Hi Kevin, we're the guys you never gave names to, asshole!
MORNING BOY: So I'm not a person just because I like to get up early?
BIG BAG BOY: Or me because I carry a large woman's handbag?
MORNING BOY: Well, that is kind of weird.
BIG BAG BOY: It's an accessory, people! We're living in 2008, get with it!
MORNING BOY: It's 2007.
BIG BAG BOY: Whatever! Who gets up before noon anyway?

JACK

I run for the bus, dear
While riding I think of us, dear

AIDAN: Happy 100th Dates, Kevin. Too bad we couldn't have hung out again, but after you got trapped in your swimsuit, I severely doubted your ability to...well...function in society.
TUCKER: Yeah, and you suck at cuddling.
AIDAN: That might have ben because you were naked while you were cuddling him.
TUCKER: And the problem there would be?

REPUBLICAN GAYS

Forever and ever!

DEREK: I can't believe you blew me off just because I work at McDonald's.
EDUARDO: Y porque no habla Ingles!
DEREK: What?
EDUARDO: No habla Ingles.
DEREK: Dude, he actually went out on a date with you? You don't even speak English. Hey Kevin, way to blow me off but keep the immigrant!
EDUARDO: Que?

GREG

My darling believe me
For me there is nooooo
--One but one

WES: We were poorly developed.
DOUG: Yeah, pretty much.

GREG

And I'm in love with you
Answer my prayer baby!

SCOTT: We could have had something real, Kevin. But unfortunately you lived more than twenty minutes away.
MAX: And I joined the priesthood.
JONAH: And I owned rats.
DYLAN: I was poor.
IVAN: I had a boyfriend.
JUSTIN: I was the boyfriend.
JONAH: More than one rat.
SCOTT: Although I'm thinking of moving to Providence, because honestly, nobody will come visit me since I live in Westerly.
IVAN: God, I would never go to Westerly.
JUSTIN: No way.
DYLAN: Do either of you guys have a dollar?

MAX

I say a little prayer for you!

Who isn't saying a prayer for me at the moment?

I'm on my 100th date.

ME: So tell me all about this identity crisis.
GABE: It was just this period I needed to go through where I didn't date anyone. I just went really inside myself.
ME: And there wasn't a phone inside yourself?
GABE: Kevin--
ME: Gabe, I called you every holiday like a loser.
GABE: You're not a loser. I loved those calls.
ME: Then you should have sent one back.
GABE: It was rough. I...I was seeing someone.
ME: Of course.
GABE: A woman.
ME: Even better.

And now, the F**ked Up View

STEPHEN: Our first hot topic, open relationships. I'm all for them.
BLAKE: Of course you are, you're in one.
STEPHEN: But Blake, isn't your marriage open? You have sex with other men.
BLAKE: That's because I'm married to a woman.
BARBARA: Wait a minute, I'm not in the right studio, am I?
STEPHEN: Don't worry, Barbara. No crazy lesbians here.
SHAWN: I don't really believe in relationships at all, per se. I think you should just tell people you like girls but then have sex with men, but not actually have sex with the girls.
BLAKE: Yeah, that works until your mid-twenties, then people get suspicious.
WILL: What does per se mean?
CLINGY DINGY: I would never cheat on my boyfriend. I would love him and buy him flowers every day to let him know he was special.
BARBARA: You're pathetic.
STEPHEN: Well, let's all take a little time to enjoy the view!

That actually just made me long for Elisabeth.

Gabe was still trying to make amends for his five-year absence.

GABE: When I got your message the other day, I panicked. I didn't want to lose you for real.
ME: So all this time you were fine with not calling me because you knew I'd always keep tabs on you?
GABE: Kevin, look, that's all water under the bridge. We're out on a date. Let's have a nice time, okay?
ME: I...

100th Date.

ME: I...

Don't let it be a downer.

GABE: Okay?

Suck it up!

ME: Okay.

So we walked along the east side catching up, and I kept looking at Gabe expecting those old feelings to resurge. I mean, this is the guy I have thought non-stop about for the past five years, but standing next to him now, I felt like I had been fixed up on a blind date by someone who didn't really know me well at all...myself...from five years ago.

GABE: So, do you live nearby?
ME: It doesn't really matter if I do.
GABE: Oh really? Why?
ME: Because the date ends here.
GABE: Okay, I can respect you wanting to take it slow.

Oh God, I feel a monologue coming on--

ME: It's not that at all actually. Originally I thought I'd be all over you within seconds of seeing you again, but the truth is...I can't get past the fact that you listened to my voice at least three times a year for five years and never called me back to let me know you were okay or that you didn't want me to keep torturing myself, and when it looked like I was finally going to stop, you pop right back in again. Maybe me from five years ago would have been okay with that and thought he could still build a life with someone who was capable of that degree of...of...assholeness, but I'm not that guy anymore. I'm not even the guy I was a year ago. A year ago I would have thought, Make this work! Latch onto any guy you can, but now I know I don't have to. Because there are lots of other guys out there. Some better than you, some worse, but there are other options, and I don't have to spend five years attaching all my hopes to one. Have a good night, Gabe--and don't bother calling.

And with that, I walked away from him.

Talk about closure.

And Now, a Message from the Boys

MORGAN: Great job with the blog, Kevin. Now remember, don't end the finale like this--

A diner in Jersey. Me, Brian, Turner, and Dwight sitting at a table eating onion rings.

BRIAN: I hate onion rings.
ME: Me, too.

A guy walks by me. He looks fishy. I think Scooter's slept with him. Then another guy walks in, also one of Scooter's.

TURNER: Guys, is it just me or is everyone in here really shady?
DWIGHT: With all the time you guys spend in gay bars, I'm surprised you noticed.

Dwight puts a nickel in the jukebox. Journey starts to play.

DWIGHT: What the hell? I picked Donna Summer!

He hits it and "Dim All the Lights" starts to play as the screen goes black.

SEAN: Greetings from London, Kev. Wish you were here!
IAN: He could have gone to London and he didn't? What a fool.
SEAN: Why are we presenting our message together?
IAN: Oh, because we both have ties to Britain.
SEAN: And you're gay as well or is it just the accent?

CONNOR: Hey Kevin, I miss you, buddy.
ME: I miss you, too, Connor.
CONNOR: Whoa, I thought I was leaving you a message.
ME: Yeah, but then I picked up.
CONNOR: Oh...well, this is awkward.

ALLAN: Hey Kevin, greetings from your friends back in the olden days.
TEDDY: Allan, doesn't he hate you?
ALLAN: Yeah, so? Every blog needs a bad guy.
TOMMY: That would be me, thanks.
ALLAN: Uh, I think I have it covered.
TOMMY: I was way more manipulative than you were--
TEDDY: Guys, I wasn't even a date. That's really insulting.
ALLAN: You couldn't be the bad guy on a bad 80's sitcom--
TOMMY: Bite me--
ALLAN: Oh bite me, real mature--

So that was it. My last date...for the blog anyway.

NICK: So no more dates for awhile?
ME: Who else is there to date?
NICK: Oh, don't be crazy. There's always people to date.

Nick and I were at the karaoke bar doing a post-date wrap-up. We were waiting for the other guys to show up.

ME: I don't know.
NICK: Don't know what?
ME: If there actually is anyone out there. You'd think I'd be sure by now, but I feel like if I come up with an answer it's not going to be one that I like.
NICK: Just remember, it's the end of the blog--not of you.
ME: You know, this blog was the first thing I actually committed to in...God, in terms of projects, the first thing ever.
NICK: And how does it feel to follow something through to the end?
ME: Good. Really good.
NICK: So take that with you. That feeling. That good feeling. You started something and you finished it. Maybe you didn't get the ending you wanted, but think of what you have now that you didn't have a year ago.

Friends. Lots of friends. New experiences. A new appreciation of dating and relationships. The wisdom to avoid dinner parties at all costs.

ME: Yeah, I guess I am a lot better off.
NICK: Not only that, but you're up, baby. Go sing.

Hey, you don't have to tell me twice.

ME:

Wake up kids
We got the dreamer's disease
Age 14
They got you down on your knees
So polite
We're busy still saying please

And Now, a Message from the Boys

MICHAEL: Way to go man, you #$#% like a Marine.

But when the night is falling

AARON: I still think it's weird you can't just drive around in a car like a normal person, but it's okay I guess.

You cannot find the light...light

DANNY: You're a really cool guy, and don't worry, you'll find what you're looking for someday.

If you feel your dreams are dying

MITCHELL: I'm going to miss reading your blog! But I'm starting my own now. 200 Dates, 200 Boys. I want to beat your record.

Hold tight...

You've got the music in you
Don't let go
You've got the music in you
One dance left
This world is going to pull through

ME: So, what did we learn from all this?
FRIEND: The internet should be used for looking up porn, not for reading about some gay boy's dating exploits?
ME: That, yes.
FRIEND: How do you feel?
ME: Well, I think about the reason I started writing this--that book I read--Julie and Julia--at the end of it the author said she credited with Julia Child being like someone who pulled her from the ocean as she was drowning, even though she'd never met her.
FRIEND: Good thing that f**king duck stuffer did something useful in her life.
ME: I feel like that's what this was for me. It gave me something to hold onto even when things were going bad. It was like, no matter how awful something was, I could always take control over it again by typing it up and showing that I wasn't afraid to tell everyone about it.
FRIEND: Are you saying the blog is your culinary lesbian lifeboat?
ME: No, Friend, you're my Julia Child.
FRIEND: Oh, honey...Fuck off.

We only get what we give
We only get what we give
We only get what we give

Thank you to everyone whose read this, whether there are 2 of you or 200. Doing this has made my life infinitely more enjoyable and I hope it's at least put a smile on someone else's face once in awhile. You never know the power that resides in saying to someone else "I've been where you've been, and you can be where I am now." One more quote by one of my favorite people--"You did then what you knew how to do, and when you knew better, you did better."

Please feel free to say hello whenever you like Kevin0719@aol.com. And check back in September where there might just be a new social experiment waiting...

Date #99: The Last Dinner Party

I was standing outside Dwight's house when it hit me.

Wow, it's taken almost 23 years, but it finally happened.

So I walked back into the house and sang "Sunday."

Wait, I probably need to back up a minute.

Scooter had arranged to have--what we all swore--would be the final dinner party. In return for this guarantee, I promised to grant his cousin Terry's wish of being one of my dates. (Because it's such an honor, you get a pin and everything.)

Not that Scooter's cousin was anything like Scooter. He's a music major from New York in town for the summer AND he's an accompanist, which means I'd pretty much eat Dwight's cooking merely to befriend him...

Oh wait, I was going to have to do that anyway.

The dinner party started off with Turner relating the story of Paye was mad at him for talking to Gary last week.

TURNER: I mean, we used to be best friends! We used to talk all the time! If there's a chance I could rekindle that friendship--
BRIAN: See, 'rekindle' really isn't a word you use for friendships. Maybe that's what got Paye upset.
NICK: Or maybe it was the fact that he then caught Turner texting Gary twenty times that night.
BRIAN: It wasn't twenty times!
NICK: That's what you said.
SCOOTER: I have a solution. Everybody pass your phone to the person two places left of you.

We all did, even though I had a bad feeling where this was going.

SCOOTER: Since this is our last dinner party, I think we should have a little purging ritual.
DWIGHT: If this involves voodoo dolling Hillary, I'm all about it.
ME: What are we doing Scooter?
SCOOTER: Kevin, you are going to delete the number under 'Richard D' in my phone.
BRIAN: Who's Richard D?
SCOOTER: This really hot drugged up loser I text every time I'm drunk.
TURNER: Oh no, I see where this is going.
SCOOTER: I will delete Gary's number from Turner's phone.
TURNER: No, you won't!
BRIAN: Turner, it's not like he can't call you. This way you won't be tempted to contact him. That's all.
NICK: So who's Terry deleting then, Brian?
BRIAN: Oh...there's nobody in my phone worth deleting.
NICK: P***y.
ALL OF US: Eww...

Turner looked at Brian with a steely gaze.

TURNER: If Scooter's deleting Gary, then Terry is deleting Connor.
ME: You still talk to Connor?
TURNER: And they're usually always drunken one-way convos.
BRIAN: Can't he just delete Scooter's number instead?
TERRY: I feel awkward about this. I don't really know any of you.
NICK: No better way to get to know somebody than to help them cut a cord. Delete Christopher, Brian.
ME: Now, that's a good suggestion.
SCOOTER: Here, fucking, here!
TERRY: I guess you could delete my last boyfriend Ren.
TURNER: You know we don't know him. He could just be having us delete his chiropracter's number or something.
TERRY: You can check the twenty-five texts I sent to him last week. I have them all saved--don't ask me why.
TURNER: Ren it is.
DWIGHT: Nick, you can delete my mother.
SCOOTER: Try again.
DWIGHT: Delete Carl N--the 'N' stands for 'Never Called.'

Then all eyes turned to me.

ME: What?
SCOOTER: Which of the hundred boys is leaving the phone, Kevo?
ME: Just pick one. It's not that big a deal.
SCOOTER: Oh, come on. That's no fun.
TERRY: What hundred boys?
BRIAN: Kevin's a gigolo pimp.
ME: Brian!
TERRY: What's the going rate these days? I'm getting tired of being a starving musician.
BRIAN: Apple doesn't fall far, does it, Scooter?
ME: Wait, um, are we allowed to make one last call before these deletions?

Scooter mulled this over in his head.

SCOOTER: Sure, why not? Just look at the phone numbers first to make sure nobody tries to do a switch.

We handed all our phones back.

SCOOTER: You have five minutes, and then your phones are going to have a little more memory in them, boys.

I went outside with Terry.

ME: I'm sorry. I can't imagine that this was your ideal date with me.
TERRY: From reading the blog, I wouldn't expect any less.
ME: So you're going to try and call Ren?
TERRY: Yeah. Knowing him he'll send me to voicemail and I can tell him--sober, for once--that he missed a great opportunity.
ME: I don't even know what to say to my guy.
TERRY: Who is he?
ME: He's someone I used to know. It's been a long time since I've seen him. I don't even know if this number still works.
TERRY: Did things end badly between you two?
ME: No. They never really ended at all. That's why it was so hard.
TERRY: Gotcha. Well, I'll leave to your privacy.
ME: Thanks.

Terry went back into the house and I called the number I've called in a few times this past year, but this time it was going to be the last. Like Terry, and as usual, I got a voicemail.

ME: Hey, it's me. I just wanted to say that this is going to be my last time calling you. I don't have any other way to get in touch with you, so unless you out-of-the-blue make some sort of random phone call to me, I'm guessing this is it. I just wanted to say that...um...I really miss you. I think about you all the time. I hope you're doing well and that...that you're happy. Bye.

I went back into the house and handed my phone to Dwight showing him the number.

ME: It'll be that one, Dwight.
DWIGHT: You sure?
ME: Yeah, I'm sure.

I sat in my seat and took back Scooter's phone.

SCOOTER: Rich said he wanted to get together tonight.
BRIAN: What did you say?
SCOOTER: I said call me because in five minutes I won't have your number anymore.
ME: Will he call?
SCOOTER: You never know with him.
BRIAN: I didn't even bother calling Connor. He wouldn't care.
TURNER: I told Gary not to call for awhile.

We all looked at him.

TURNER: It's for the best.
NICK: I told Chris he's a fucking idiot with a small d**k. Then I said peace.

Terry seemed to be smiling.

TERRY: Ren was cool actually. He said he respected what I was doing. Said he misses me, but that it was tie to severe ties--for now, anyway.
DWIGHT: I had to remind Carl who I was.
NICK: What about Mr. Broccoli? What did you say?

I shrugged.

ME: Nothing really. Just whatever popped into my head.

Scooter seemed to understand that I didn't want this moment to go on any longer, so he held up Turner's phone and said--

SCOOTER: Delete on the count of three!

It then took two minutes to figure out how to delete phone numbers in all of our various phones. But finally we were ready.

SCOOTER: One...two...three!

For some reason, I screamed. I screamed upon hitting 'Delete' in Scooter's phone and seeing that little number disappear. Surprisingly enough, Turner screamed, too. Then Brian. Pretty soon we were all screaming at the phones, and then finally, we were silent.

ME: I need some air.

While I was outside, I had a striking realization. Scooter was right. It was time to move on. I've been in the same place with the same group of people in the same situations for my entire life. It was time to change that.

I went inside and heard Terry plunking away some keys that sounded familiar.

ME: Sunday in the Park with George?
TERRY: I learned to play this after I saw a college production of the show in Boston.
ME: Listen to Billy Porter do it. It'll change your life.
TERRY: Can you sing?
ME: Very poorly.
TERRY: I'll help you out then. Just try.

So I did.

Sunday, by the blue purple yellow red water
On the green purple yellow red grass
Let us pass through our perfect park
Pausing on a Sunday

Later that night, I told all the others I was leaving. I didn't know where I was going to go or how I was going to get there, or what I was going to do once I got there, but that as soon as the summer was over, it was going to be time for a move.

By the cool blue triangular water
On the soft green elliptical grass
As we pass through arrangements of shadow
Toward the verticals of trees
Forever

Dwight took it well since he won't be here anyway. I apologized for giving him a hard time about leaving. Now I understand why he had to do it. Sometimes it becomes too hard to stay in a place that reminds you of so many people who aren't there anymore.

By the blue purple yellow red water
On the green orange violet mass of the grass
In our perfect park

Scooter didn't seem to believe me. Brian just laughed, but it was an 'Oh well' laugh, like this was to be expected. Turner knew I meant it, and he kept staring at me, as if to see what happened to the boy who was always so proud to stick his feet in Rhode Island and never move. Nick just said 'Do what you have to do, Brock.'

Made of flecks of light
And dark
And parasols
Bum bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum

FRIEND: So how is this going to work?
ME: I'm going to start traveling. Find a place that clicks with me, find a library, find a place to stay, and the rest...Well, I don't know. I don't know anything actually.
FRIEND: You should try the Netherlands. You could become a red light fixture and write a blog about your first hundred tricks.
ME: Going away now isn't like really going away. Nobody's more than a phone call or an e-mail away.
FRIEND: You say that, but you neglect the power of presence. The fact that you can be there if someone needs you. That you can hold them when they cry, or hug them when you see them. Nothing can replace that.
ME: So you think I should stay?
FRIEND: No, I just wanted to remind you that you actually being here does make a difference. Now you have to make a difference somewhere else.

People strolling through the trees
Of a small suburban park
On an island in the river
On and ordinary Sunday
Sunday
Sunday

An Interview with Me

My friend Matt decided to do an interview with me for his blog, so because I really am that conceited, I'm posting a link to it here in this blog.

Read away, and thanks Matt :O)

http://celebritiesdefined.blogspot.com/

Date #98: Boston Harbor

For years I've been trying to write a play called Boston Harbor. Most people who write--any kind of writing--have a project like Boston Harbor in the back of their minds. It never seems to get written even though the author knows exactly what it's about and may even have some ideas about characterization and story elements.

And yet, the play just never seems to get written.

For a long time now, Boston Harbor has almost been a private joke with myself (the coolest kind of jokes, of course). I've tried everything I can think of, but as soon as I type Boston Harbor on the title page, I usually never get much further than that.

The ironic thing is that I know exactly what the play is about--because I lived it.

(I know, that might be the corniest line of all time, but it's true.)

So when it was time to step out of Rhode Island and try my luck in a new location; I decided revisiting old stomping grounds might be the best idea.

Allow me to explain.

When I was in high school, I spent two very eye-opening summers living with my gay uncle in Boston. How those years formed who I am today--Well, let's just say I might be making comments about girls asses and watching golf on television if it weren't for those two summers.

Oh, and before you all comment on what a cliched name I picked for a gay guy, my uncle's name really is--

ME: Uncle Will?

He hates when I call him "Uncle Will." He's my Dad's stepbrother and he's only six years older than me. After graduating high school, he decided to forgo college and move to the big city, much to my grandparents' chagrin.

It was then that he and I concocted a plan to have me stay with him for the summer so he would have someone to hang out with in the city until he got accustomed to living there. I told my mother I was going to a theater camp, when really I was just hanging out with my uncle and learning the ups and downs of homo-dom.

When my uncle opens the door, he looks even better than when I last saw him. I'm not sure how creepy this is to say about your six-year-age-difference-semi-non-blood-related uncle, but...well...he's a hottie.

Imagine Will Kemp or just click on this: http://www.blogdecine.com/images/will%20Kemp.jpg

That's what opened the door to the apartment I had made my way to with a duffel bag full of enough clothes for a two-day stay.

UNCLE WILL: Can I help you?
ME: Yes, I'm looking for a guy named Will. Apparently I'm his son.
UNCLE WILL: Wow, good to know the sperm takes. Unfortunately I'm dying.
ME: Of what?
UNCLE WILL: Lokianis disease.
ME: Which is?
UNCLE WILL: It's what happens when you're repeatedly called 'Uncle' at the young age of 25.
ME: You're 28.
UNCLE WILL: I know. The doctors are completely stupefied.

It took us this much banter before I was able to give him a hug and enter the apartment.

VOICE: Is that the little horndog?

The voice belonged to Jeff, my uncle's boyfriend. They'd been seriously dating since my last summer in Boston, although they'd done the typical up-and-down, open relationship, drama drama, menage a you-don't-wanna-know thing that most gay couples do, so I wouldn't exactly say I look up to them, but I do adore Jeff.

He's spunky--and really, who can you call spunky anymore?

Upon exiting the kitchen, he grabbed me at the waist and spun me around, even though I'm a good six inches taller than he is.

ME: I feel like I'm being molested by a munchkin.

He dropped me, causing me to stumble.

JEFF: Still got that quick wit, huh?
UNCLE WILL: Family jewel.
JEFF: Oh, that's the jewel, is it? I was wondering what it was.
UNCLE WILL: In Jeff's family it's their sterling sense of racism.
ME: Question, you two, when's your sixtieth anniversary? Because I want to make sure I can book Lawrence Welk.

This got me a punch on both arms from the munchkin and my uncle.

ME: So I'm here--who is it you're setting me up with?

The reason I decided to go to Boston in the first place was an e-mail I got a little while back from Will and Jeff telling me they had found me the perfect guy.

He's cute, he's funny, he's got a great job, and something about him just seems like it would click with you.

Admittedly, I'd kind of discarded the e-mail until recently when I decided looking passing up a potential soulmate might not be the wisest decision.

The best part? He works in a library! Just like you!

Wow, should I start picking out china patterns now?

JEFF: I just mean you can talk about books.
ME: Because solid conversations about literature are the foundation of any good relationship.
JEFF: Maybe not me and your uncles since I like Tolstoy and he's illiterate--
WILL: Hey!
JEFF: --But it can be a starting point.

And so, with more trepidation than I've felt in awhile--probably because I didn't have homefield advantage--I embarked on my date.

I met Ian at a little Italian restaurant that Jeff thought would be fantastic as a meeting place. I don't know what I was expecting, but when Ian walked through the door I was a little taken aback at how stunning he was.

That's right, stunning--in that academic sort of way which I just love. (Imagine Wesley from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.)

To make him even more Wesley-ish, he was from Britain. Jeff chose to let me in on this at the last minute when I was getting cold feet.

JEFF: Kevin, he's British.
ME: Jeff!
JEFF: What?
ME: I can't go out on a date with a British guy!
JEFF: Why not?
ME: I'll be putty in his hands!
JEFF: Oh, come on.
ME: I'm serious! Everything sounds hotter when it's said with a British accent.
JEFF: That's not true.

(I affected a British accent.)

ME: It appears the dog urinated on grandma.
JEFF: Wow, that does sound hot.
ME: See!

By that time, I couldn't back out. Although as soon as Ian and I were seated, I was wishing I could focus on something other than how hot every word he said sounded.

IAN: So I understand you're quite into books?
ME: Well, not quite. I mean, I am, but--I'm sorry, what was the question?

I needed to get my head on straight.

ME: I do enjoy books, yes.
IAN: Are you reading anything currently?
ME: I don't suppose you know Armistead Maupin?
IAN: You mean Tales of the City?
ME: Yes!
IAN: Isn't it required reading for homosexuals nowadays?
ME: Maybe back in the 70's it was, but he just put a new book out.
IAN: Michael Tolliver Lives. I'm actually reading it now.
ME: No way! I just finished it.
IAN: Fabulous, isn't it?

Uh oh.

ME: Well, um...I do love the series, but--
IAN: You don't like the book?
ME: I was just...really disappointed.
IAN: Why?
ME: Well, you have to understand, Michael Tolliver was my first gay crush. I saw the PBS mini-series back when I was still in high school and when he did that underwear contest--
IAN: You don't have to go any further. I still try to TIVO that on lonely nights.

Okay, so far, so good. It's just a discussion. It's not an argument.

ME: I know he was a representation of Armistead Maupin, but now that Armistead Maupin's getting on in life, Michael's gone from being a sweet, innocent, adorable Southern boy to a cynical old queen in an open relationship who wears cock rings and dates a guy young enough to be his son.
IAN: Don't knock it. That may be you some day.
ME: Absolutely not. That will not be me.
IAN: I'm sure neither Armistead nor Michael thought it would be them either. I think it's great that he's honest enough to write the way he does. It can't be easy admitting that he has to take Viagra or the side effects of H.I.V. medication.

God, he was making a good argument. It was pissing me off.

ME: I do admire his honesty, but I think his banishment of monogamy is a little bit depressing coming from a gay icon.
IAN: He didn't ask to be a gay icon.
ME: Nobody does--

Okay, maybe Diana Ross.

ME: --But the point is, it only makes the gay community look bad to have one of its more prominent figures dismissing monogamy and then wondering why we're not allowed to get married.
IAN: I don't see your point.
ME: Marriage kind of hinders on monogamy, doesn't it?
IAN: Apparently you've never met my family.

That was cute, but I'm in the middle of a point.

ME: The point is--
IAN: It's not him talking, though. It's the character.
ME: But the character is clearly him.
IAN: So you don't find anything redeeming about the book?
ME: No! I loved the book!
IAN: I would hate to hear about one you disliked.
ME: I guess I just...I had--
IAN: You had a crush on someone who existed as a fictional character in his 20's in the 70's--moreso as a fictional character in his 20's in the 70's as portrayed by an actor in a 90's miniseries--and now he's an autobiographical character in his 50's and you suddenly don't identify with him as an object of lust anymore, is that so surprising?
ME: Well...no...but--
IAN: And because you're worried that he is what being a gay man in his 50's means, when really--it's just what being a gay man who grew up in the 70's and 80's is. Our generation might be completely different from that when we're in our 50's.

Wow, he somehow made me feel vindicated and won the argument at the same time.

I might be in love.

IAN: I guess my question is, why do you still love the book then?
ME: I liked the term he coined 'A confederacy of survivors.' The fact that that's how he views himself and his friends.
IAN: I liked the line 'I don't need a lover--only five good friends.'
ME: Perfect. Perfect line.

Brian, Turner, Dwight, Nick, and Scooter.

IAN: Is that all you liked about the book?
ME: No. I also liked that he seemed to be able to tell the story of his life--to show how he got from point A to point Z--even though I wasn't too thrilled with point Z. I liked that he cleared up all the loose ends without putting a bow on the end of anything, and that he just sort of...honored his life and the lives of his friends.
IAN: You sound a tad envious.

It was then that I told him about the never-finished (hell, never even really started) Boston Harbor.

IAN: Did you ever think maybe the reason you can't start the story is because it isn't finished yet? You're not even 23 yet, right?
ME: Not for another twelve days.
IAN: You see, you've got to give it more time.
ME: I just...I've been working on this other project--about dating. And I'm worried it won't have that nice definitive ending--or any kind of an ending at all, even. I set out expecting one thing and--
IAN: That was your first mistake. Expectation. You should just let the chips fall where they may.
ME: Easy for you to say. You didn't go on a date with someone who bit your nipples.
IAN: Pardon?
ME: Wow, this is good pasta.

After the dinner, we walked around Boston and seemed to be getting along really nicely--or quite nicely, some might say...

Then Ian dropped the bomb.

IAN: Kevin, I have to admit--I'm a bit like Michael.
ME: You wear a cock ring?
IAN: Aside from that--I don't really believe in monogamy.
ME: Oh...
IAN: I'm sorry. I thought I should mention it since you seem to be so adamant about it.
ME: I'm just adamant about eventual monogamy. Not giving it up on it.
IAN: Oh, but I never believed in it in the first place.
ME: Then why do you date?
IAN: Because I love dating. I love meeting new people. I love sex with those new people.
ME: Gotcha.
IAN: Not that I'm slutty.
ME: Oh, I'm really not one to judge.
IAN: I just thought I'd tell you, since you seem really sweet.
ME: Thank you. You seem like a nice guy yourself--aside from the fact that you're going to die alone.

He laughed--thank God--and hugged me...and then we had sex.

Just kidding.

(But seriously, that accent kills me.)

I went back to Jeff and Will's and relayed the story of my date to them. Will chastised me for spending a good portion of the evening condemning a fictional gay man in his 50's, but then he smiled and said "Only my nephew" which was his way of saying "I love you." Jeff apologized for not fixing me up with someone more long-term oriented, but I told him not to sweat it, and we all ate a late-nite meal of toast and scrambled eggs.

FRIEND: So your road trip episode was a total failure.
ME: I wouldn't say that.
FRIEND: I would! You didn't even f**k the Brit!
ME: It's July. I'm too patriotic to have sex with the former enemy.
FRIEND: He looked like Wesley?
ME: Spitting image.
FRIEND: Call me Benedict Arnold.

Well, that was fun, but this thing needs to end where it began--at home.

Providence, I'm coming home.

FRIEND: Oh yeah, the hour drive is really epic.
ME: F**k off, Benedict.

Date #97: My Top Five Dates

Before the blog, my number five best date of all time would have been my date on the beach with Jason almost two years ago. At that point, I had pretty much given up on meeting anyone. My year-and-a-half long, on-again/off-again relationship with my boyfriend at the time had ended bitterly--so bitterly in fact that to this day we don't talk very much, which is very unusual for me. I was a cynical mess due to a few run-ins with gays with baggage and emotional issues for days and the fact that none of them wanted me playing in their clubhouse, so to speak. Basically, I was unwanted even by people I was looking down upon, which is not a nice place to be in, let me tell you. Then came Jason. He was a sophomore in college and I was going into my senior year. He was attending U.R.I., which meant an excuse to go down near Narragansett a couple times in August (not a bad place to end the summer) and on our third date--the date where we officially became "something"--we bit the cliched bullet and just went to the beach. Sitting there with my head in his lap looking out onto the waves, I remember saying that I didn't think this was going to happen. When he asked me what "this" was, I told him that "this" was a lot of things: Serenity, romance, comfort, security, and a connection with someone else on a beach at the end of what had become a semi-regretful summer seemingly making the whole thing worthwhile. "This" was a person to call and talk to about my day. "This" was a new start as my college career was ending, sending me into the black hole known as...the future. "This" was a boy who wanted me in his clubhouse, who banished my cynicism while he was stroking my hair and watching the waves with me. "This" was perfection. A few weeks later, Jason broke up with me. Looking back, it's clear that Jason was one of those people who has brief, intense relationships with guys and then grows tired of them, or rather, their intensity. He seemed to be a very troubled guy, and even now when I think back on that night on the beach, I don't regret it like I regret the rest of that summer, only because I know that in that moment, he really didn't want to be anywhere else--and neither did I. We both moved on after that, but in that moment, we were simply with each other, and it felt wonderful.

And now, on another beach...

ME: Are you out of your mind?!?
BRIAN: What are you talking about?

I jumped up and started walking down the beach trying to pretend that one of my best friends didn't just kiss me and make my life that much more complicated.

Brian was trailing behind me trying to have a conversation like the kind you see in Hugh Grant/Random Adorable Actress movies. The pan-shot argument, I call it.

BRIAN: I will not have the pan-shot argument with you, Kevin. I am not Hugh Grant, and you are not Kate Beckinsdale.

I pivoted right into his face.

BRIAN: Ouch!
ME: See? This is why you should not have kissed me!
BRIAN: Because you're spontaneously abusive?
ME: No! Because you know about the pan-shot phrase and how to use it correctly! You know too much! You're my friend!
BRIAN: Sometimes friends become more.
ME: And then they become less! You know that.
BRIAN: Can I at least explain myself?
ME: I know what explanation you're going to give! You've never been attracted to me in the slightest and all of a sudden you're kissing me, which means you're nervous because--
BRIAN: --Because my best friend has gone on almost 100 dates and still can't find a decent guy, and I'm a much bigger asshole than he is, so what hope is there for me?

All right, admittedly, that wasn't where I thought he was going with that.

BRIAN: We just...You and I...I mean, we're not meant for each other, that's pretty clear, but we are really good together. We know each other inside and out. We make each other laugh. We have conversations. I mean, I don't have conversations with anyone.
ME: So what? The next obvious step is invisible marriage?
BRIAN: I'm just saying, why--when you and I have the healthiest relationship of anyone we know--why not give it a shot?

I was going to reference the episode of Clarissa Explains It All when Clarissa tried dating Sam and how awkward that was, but if Brian didn't watch the show, then the whole thing would take too long to explain.

Wait a minute, everybody watched that show!

ME: We'd be like Clarissa and Sam!
BRIAN: Shut up. We would not be like that.
ME: Like when Zach had to kiss Jessie in the school play.
BRIAN: We are not sitcom characters! We are real people!
ME: If you want to be a real person, then act like one! A real person wouldn't decide to call it quits on finding love at the age of 22, Brian! I know I'm not going to. The fact that I haven't found someone yet isn't scaring me, so there's no reason it should scare you. We're young. We're energetic. We're still capable of having sex without help! And as long as that's the case, there's still hope. And who knows? There might even be hope after that.

Wow, usually the rants come way later in the entry.

My top four date is a little...unconventional. A little disclaimer for you. This guy was only my second actual date. Don't get me wrong. I had a week-long boyfriend in high school, but we never actually went out anywhere, and my first year at college offered no opportunities for dating, believe it or not, so I only ended up going out on a date with one guy who proceeded to never call me again--and he was someone my friends set me up with--apparently this guy didn't know you're not supposed to randomly stop talking to someone when you have mutual friends--go figure.

So the summer after my first year in college, I was determined to meet someone. I wasn't going to stop at anything--even if it meant doing what I never did back then...go to a club. I ended up meeting this guy Rick, and he took me on my second-ever date, and it went really well...but that's not the top four date. The top four date would be me and Rick's fifth date. The fourth date had ended in us making out for a solid hour in the front seat of his car in front of a Barnes and Noble. His car, I should mention, didn't have air conditioning, so that by the time we stopped being all over each other, we were covered in our own sweat--how sweet, right? This was the case because both of us were living at home with our families for the summer, and we didn't have anywhere private to go, so we refrained from any physical contact until we exploded that afternoon while mothers with children browsed the summer reading section at the B&N.

On the fifth date, Rick picked me up, took me out to a movie and dinner, and then told me he had a surprise for me. Don't assume that because Rick was living with his parents he was one of those post-college losers (see: yours truly) who can't get a job. He was in the process of buying a house after getting a degree in engineering. Point being: He was rolling in dough from a lucrative job he'd held for a few months, and he decided to splurge a little.

That "splurge" ended up being a huge hotel room in the Westin where we spent the next twelve hours.

Now, I know you're thinking, Wow, how trashy that your top four date makes the cut because of a half-day f**kfest--but that's where you're wrong. Remember, I'd never dated anyone before seriously, which meant I'd never been intimate like this with anyone before either. This was the first time someone actually got to see me naked for a prolonged period of time. This was pillow talk and room service and talking for an hour only to wind up kissing and then...Well, you get the picture.

The point is...it was the moment I stopped being that gay kid from high school who still giggled after he kissed a boy and who was still really uncomfortable just being who he was. After that dinner, that movie, and those eleven hours, I was all grown up.

SCOOTER: You are such a skank.

Meanwhile, I'm defending myself in a place where I should have home field advantage.

NICK: This little restaurant is pretty swank, Kev.
ME: It's a cafe.

Nordstrom's Cafe to be exact. I had taken Nick, Turner, and Scooter there to get their opinion on what I should do about Brian and my dwindling number of dates left.

SCOOTER: Skanky McSkank Pants.
ME: I didn't kiss Brian. He kissed me.
NICK: Well who hasn't kissed you at this point?
ME: Oh yeah, because I'm so desirable. I exude lust.
SCOOTER: I wouldn't go that far. I mean, I'd get freaky with you again but--
TURNER: Get freaky?
ME: Let's just forget about Brian for now. Let's just forget boys all together.

Things were not going well with my other two up-to-now-looking-good potentials.

TURNER: Did you try talking to Jesse?
ME: About him sleeping with the Devil, yes, I called.
TURNER: I hope you were a little less judgmental than that.
ME: I'm sorry, but we're talking about my mortal enemy here!
NICK: Kevin, you're not Hee-Man. You shouldn't have a mortal enemy.
SCOOTER: Besides, you slept me. I don't think you can play the moral compass card, anymore.
ME: Lovely of you to point that out.

The truth is, I had called and apologized to Jesse, and he accepted, but I still didn't feel right about the whole thing. I could get past the fact that he had slept with Allan. After all, as Scooter pointed out, I'd done worse--pardon the pun. The thing was now it felt like our pasts were all tangled up in each other. Somehow everything just seemed tainted now.

NICK: What about Charlie? Have you made up with him yet?
ME: He was the one being a jerk.
NICK: He only pointed out that you do tend to make things about you.
ME: He said he couldn't wait to get away from everything! That includes me! Or at least it sounded like it.
TURNER: Kevin, you have to remember, you're not in a relationship with him. You can only have so much of a say in terms of how much what he says affects you.
SCOOTER: Unless you care about him so much that in can't help but affect you in which case you might want to also admit that you lo--
ME: Finish that sentence and I'll post the size of Scooter Jr. on myspace.
SCOOTER: Go right ahead.
ME: And I'll lie.
SCOOTER: I'm shushing.

Charlie had actually apologized for what he said, but he also confirmed what Turner said--and admitted that right now he just wanted to look out for himself and not have to worry about anybody else, which meant there could be give and take, but there didn't have to be.

So where does that leave me?

ME: It leaves me with three dates to go and no potential boyfriends.
SCOOTER: Wow, you went from two to none. That sucks.
ME: I'm amazed you don't counsel people for a living.
TURNER: It's just like anything else, Kevin. There are highs and lows in life.
NICK: You're just hitting your low at a really bad time.
ME: Well, I do have a date tonight. Maybe that'll turn out to be something.
NICK: Even if it isn't, try really hard to make it something because you're running out of dates.

They then took turns pitching spin-off ideas to me. How does this sound:

Turner and Nick go to New York and open a bakery where crazy hijinks take place as they bake and date in the big city!

Yeah, I might pass on that and let it land on the CW.

My top three date was a set-up by a girl I barely knew at the time. It was one of those "You're gay and my friend's gay so you two would love each other!" type of things, but at the time I was in such a drought I didn't even care.

I met Matt at the Outback--make jokes if you will, but he suggested it. When I got there I found an incredibly hot guy in the waiting area and I thought, Oh, that couldn't possibly be him. No way am I that lucky. So I just stood there until clearly nobody else was coming, so either I had just been stood up or this adorable guy who happened to be just my type was my date.

He saw me, but he also seemed to shy to say anything. So we both just stood there looking around for two other people when we knew we were just looking for each other (ironically, this became the underlying metaphor for our up-and-down relationship/friendship/whatever you want to call it).

Finally I broke down and--didn't say hello--but did something to put him on the spot. I faked a vibrating call on my cell phone and answered with "Hi, this is Kevin. Um, no, I don't know who might have placed that order. I don't want any magazines. Thanks." When I got off the phone he just laughed at me--the most beautiful laugh I had ever heard, and introduced himself.

This was going to be a late-afternoon type date, but it ended up being a till 2am in the morning "riding around the state just so that we wouldn't have to say good-bye to each other" date. I never felt so calm with anyone, which is weird because Matt was off the wall. He was energetic, fast-moving, well-humored (giggly is probably a better term for it), and honestly, really broken in a lot of ways. I saw him and thought, Great! I can be the guy who helps. Who fixes things. I can be his knight in shining armor.

And whenever you think that, you're already in trouble. Matt ended up coming in and out of my life sporadically until the day he just disappeared. He moved once, twice, and then again with no forwarding address and no way to get a hold of him. By that point we were only talking once in awhile anyway, but I was still really dented by the whole thing. (Notice how I say "dented" and not "hurt." When you're hurt, there's an entitlement there. Somebody has done something that affected you in a hurtful way. The truth is, I had no entitlement to Matt in any way, so instead I just felt dented. I felt like someone rammed into the side of me and then drove off and I was left sitting there going, What the hell just happened?)

I still think about Matt all the time. I keep his number in my phone even though it's no longer his number. I hate the thought of not being able to talk to someone if I want to. I mean, come on, we live in a world where thanks to facebook, myspace, aim, etc. You never really have to worry about completely losing touch with someone, but with Matt that's a reality. He's never popped up on any of those handy sites and nobody seems to ever have known or cared about him except for me.

But I still remember that guy in the waiting room who had been beaten about by life and guys and family. I remember seeing him smile at me as if none of that mattered, as if I was a new chance at something. As if maybe I could be the one who unlocked that door in him that would let it be okay to get a little close, fall a little bit...And I remember that every time I go out on a date. That every guy is that chance, and that's why we all do it, why we still chase after that chance--no matter how many times we get dented.

ME: So you're...into movies?
CHRISTIAN: Not really.
ME: Books?
CHRISTIAN: Nah.
ME: PBS?
CHRISTIAN: Huh?
ME: Never mind.

My date with Christian was not how a date should go when it's Date 97. I should be good at this by now, I thought. I should be able to converse with people without lulls, without stops and starts, without us staring at each other as if we're in a staring contest!

ME: I hope you're not having as bad a time as you seem to be having.
CHRISTIAN: No, I'm probably having a worse time actually.
ME: Oh, well...okay.

So much for that wittiness I lean on in times of need.

ME: I don't want you to stay if you're having a bad time. Why don't we just get the check and call it a night?
CHRISTIAN: No!

That was enthusiastic.

CHRISTIAN: I mean--I'm sorry. I'm still getting used to this.
ME: Used to what?
CHRISTIAN: Dating--I mean, dating again. I just got out of a three-year relationship.

This is when my internal alarm would normally go off.

DANGER KEVIN BROCCOLI! DANGER!

But instead--

ME: Why don't you tell me about him?
CHRISTIAN: Aren't you never supposed to talk about past relationships on a date?
ME: Oh, I don't believe in that. What are you supposed to do? Tell me about yourself but leave out the three years you were with--um--
CHRISTIAN: Kyle.
ME: --Leave out the Kyle period? I don't think so. Besides, clearly, you're still dealing with the break-up and that's what would be easy for you to talk about, so talk about it.
CHRISTIAN: And you won't mind?
ME: Are you kidding? I love hearing about break-ups. Break-ups and flash floods are my two favorite topics.

So he talked about the demise of Christian and Kyle, and I listened--only interjecting here and there to ask a question, thereby letting him know I was interested in hearing what he had to say. It seems the two of them were in a three-year relationship that should have been a one and a half-year relationship, and that when things ended it wasn't one of those fiery meltdowns, but more like a small pop and then everything that was there for all those years just...disappeared.

CHRISTIAN: ...And now I'm just taking some time to rebuild my life. This is only the second date I've been on since...since it ended. The first one was a disaster.
ME: Hopefully this one won't qualify as that.
CHRISTIAN: No, this is already way better.

We laughed at that, and then decided to go walk along the east side.

It was such a beautiful night out. We walked and talked (about more than exes after a point). It was nice to see Christian relax after awhile. It became clear after hanging out with him that the reason he was so stand-offish before was simply anxiety. He hadn't had to date for three years and now he had to learn all over again, and let's face it, he's buying in a seller's market.

By the time we had circled back to our cars, he seemed to be a completely different person from the one I started the night with--it's always nice when that happens.

CHRISTIAN: Thank you for being so sweet.
ME: No problem. It makes up for all the times I'm a jerk in my daily life.
CHRISTIAN: I'm sure those times are few and far between.

He should see me at work in the morning. Grendel would run in fear.

CHRISTIAN: I guess this is where I confess that--
ME: --Although I'm a good guy, you're not ready to jump back into something serious so soon.
CHRISTIAN: You're not mad?
ME: Mad? That I'm not the rebound guy? Nah, I'm not mad.
CHRISTIAN: Thank you. I just...

He looked down and for a second, I thought he might crumble. It's one thing to accept that you're broken up with someone, but it's another to realize that even though they're gone, they still impact your life.

CHRISTIAN: He was the best, you know?
ME: I know.
CHRISTIAN: Our first five dates were the best five dates of my life. I mean, how often can you say that about someone?
ME: Not very often.
CHRISTIAN: I know I'm still really young, but...I mean, how often do you get that lucky in life, right?
ME: I don't believe in luck. I believe in karma, fate, and laughing. If you can accept those three things, you'll be fine.
CHRISTIAN: Thanks, Oprah.
ME: Anytime.

I gave him a big hug and we said our good-byes. If nothing else, Christian had a nice night out where for a couple of hours he didn't have to do anything but talk about what he wanted to talk about and be somewhere other than home. I probably wouldn't be taking any of Kyle's slots in the Top Five, but all in all, it wasn't bad for my 97th try.

My number two date is an easy one. I was absolutely smitten for this guy the first time I ever saw him. I was at a party and when he walked by me I swore I could hear an angel choir in my head. Just as quickly I dismissed him as someone way out of my league. A little later we ended up talking by the pool, and of course, I was my usual over-the-top, bundle of nerves--and funnily enough, he seemed mildly charmed by this.

The next time I saw him he ended up going off with some other guy, and I thought, Well, that's about right. I don't wind up with guys like that. He's handsome, he's funny, he's charming--and he's not psychologically damaged. What chance did I have with a guy like that?

But then things with the other guy didn't work out, and in October, Prince Charming paid me a visit at school in Providence.

As soon as he saw me he gave me the biggest hug, and the thought flew through my mind that I could never get sick of this guy. It felt like he could tell me the same joke thousands of times for years on end and I would laugh every time. He smiled and I tried to fathom if it would be possible to be upset or have a bad day after seeing that smile. I thought about saying some of this to him, but even though he made me completely comfortable when we were together, I would still periodically stare at him and forget my own name.

We went to see The Lion King and then went out to eat at Johnny Rockets. The entire time it was like being at the best party you've ever been at in your life, except it's just you and someone else.

By the time he left to go home, I knew that nothing more was ever going to come of the date--if it even was a date (I know, probably should have thought of that before I put it in the top five) but for night things that never seemed tangible to me became completely real, and for once I thought, Maybe I actually do deserve to have nights like this with boys like that. Maybe that was possible.

BRIAN: It's not easy for me to say this.
ME: You're going to admit that Boy Meets World was the best television show ever made?
BRIAN: That--and I was wrong.

Brian and I were at his place watching Hey Paula. After watching that woman self-destruct for an hour, none of our problems seemed all that bad.

BRIAN: I'm just tired of either being single or being with a loser.
ME: Connor wasn't really a loser.
BRIAN: Are you just saying that because you dated him first?
ME: Yes, that's pretty much the only reason I'm saying it.
BRIAN: So no more kissing?
ME: Hey, you kissed me.
BRIAN: You did the lingering stare.
ME: You did the lean-in AND the follow-through.
BRIAN: The lingering stare is like you're begging for it.
ME: I wasn't lingering! I was wondering why you were leaning in!
BRIAN: I did not lean in before the stare! I would never lean in until I got clearance you lean in.
ME: You don't get clearance to lean in! Leaning in is you putting yourself out on a limb. The follow-through you need clearance for.
BRIAN: And you gave me clearance.
ME: I never gave you clearance!
BRIAN: You didn't do the lean back!
ME: I didn't know what you were doing!
BRIAN: You didn't recognize the lean in?
ME: I did, but then I went into shock!

Ah, it's so good to have things back to normal.

The best date of my life beats out number two simply because it offered that chance of something more--something beyond the date itself.

If you want to know how sweet he is, let's start with the fact that he didn't go on a trip because he decided he'd rather meet up with me instead. Right there I might have been won over if I wasn't in such a low place emotionally. It was my last semester of college and I had no idea what was going to happen after it was all over. All I knew was that life was about to change dramatically and I wasn't ready for it. As a result, I had become frantic, moody, and catty all at the same time.

Then I saw him from across the street. It was as simple as that.

We had a nice dinner with a conversation that grew from being "getting to know you" to "I want to know everything about you." When we left the restaurant, we started walking around the Brown campus. We were still on the edge of something, but I didn't know what, or I did know, but I didn't know if I was right about it or not. Then he leaned into my side a little--in an affectionate, trusting way (I know, but you actually can tell that much from a little lean)--and I just knew.

From that moment on, it was so easy.

We sat at the steps of the chapel and kissed and talked and laughed and talked about what the hell we were supposed to do since we were instantly crazy about each other and yet both practical enough to realize that it wasn't practical to be instantly crazy about anybody especially since we were both going to be graduating in a few months and going through God-knows-what kind of life changes.

But then another part of us didn't care. I wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with me, and it was cold out, and he had on this adorable scarf, and I felt like someone sent him to me. I don't always know if I believe in divine intervention, especially when it comes to gay guys, but I didn't believe I just "met" him. I believe somehow someone somewhere in the universe knew I needed him and sent him to me.

We were together until he graduated. An attempt was made at the long-distance thing, but that never works out. I was so sad when he left. It felt like being more than left. It felt like left behind. Like he was going to be moving on to bigger and better things, and I was going to be staying in my own tiny state for however long waiting for another spark of divine intervention.

I was so depressed about it that I wondered if I'd ever be able to date again. So I did something about it.

I started a blog.

Because sometimes you have to make your own spark...

FRIEND: Somehow I knew you were going to tie this all in to being a flamer.
ME: What would be your top five dates?
FRIEND: That would be rough.
ME: Top five hookups?
FRIEND: Honey, my hookups are like the 60's: If I remember them, I probably wasn't there.
ME: Anybody stick out in your mind at all as having impacted your life?
FRIEND: My first bartender.
ME: Moreso than your first time.
FRIEND: My first bartender was--
ME: Ohhh--Well, that explains a lot.

Three dates left.

That means it's time to make that spark again.

Except this time it might be time to start thinking outside the box...

...And by box I mean, the tiny little state...

Date #96: Drama

With five dates to go, I realize that I haven't even dated the one type of guy I've always wanted to try dating:

The Theater Guy.

BRIAN: That's a huge mistake.
ME: Why?

Brian and I were seated in the deserted N.C. Come July, everyone in Providence skips town and--although it becomes way easier to get a parking spot--it makes you feel like you're visiting a ghost town.

BRIAN: We need to get out of this city. Let's go up to the beach house this weekend.
ME: Okay. Want me to tell the boys?
BRIAN: How about we make it just you and me? I can't handle the boys right now. It's too hot out for drama.
ME: The boys aren't drama.
BRIAN: Please, Kevin. You know I adore them, but Scooter's always trying to hook up or talking about his hookups--
ME: You dated him.
BRIAN: Don't remind me. Turner's all into Paye now, Nick is constantly getting back together with Christopher, and Dwight's in love with you. Can't I just have one-on-one time with you for a day and a half?

I was actually really touched. Aside from these lunches, Brian and I never really hang out with just each other. Maybe it was a good idea.

ME: Sure. I have a date Saturday night with theater boy, but right after that I'll drive down to Narragansett.
BRIAN: So you're going to go through with this?
ME: Brian, he likes theater. How bad can it be?

On an ordinary...SUNDAY!
SUNDAY!
SUNDAY!

I probably should have seen this coming. I was riding in Jerome's car while he blasted Billy Porter at Joe's Pub and sang along at the top of his lungs. Normally I can't get enough of Billy and the Broadway Inspirational Voices belting "Sunday" from Sunday in the Park with George, but Jerome had found a way to kill that joy.

The night started off at Jerome's house. I picked him up at seven thirty, but he wasn't ready, so he had me sit in his room while he changed--right in front of me.

JEROME: Some people are sooo ashamed of their body, but I'm totally not. Look at this--

He smacked--literally, smacked--his stomach, which I will grant you, was fairly flat.

JEROME: --Do I have anything to be ashamed of?
ME: You certainly don't.

It was then that he dropped his pants.

JEROME: I was in Hair in college. Totally okay with onstage nudity.
ME: Good to know.

Had we been anywhere near a stage.

JEROME: Don't you love all my show posters?

His room was wallpapered with Broadway musical posters that dated back to what seemed to be--oh, if I had to guess--the original production of No, No Nanette!

JEROME: I met Raul outside the stage door of Chitty Chitty. He totally eye-fucked me.
ME: He what?
JEROME: And Michael Arden--please. Don't get me started. I went to see that travesty Times They Are A-Changin' just cause I heard he was a slut and I thought if he saw me--I mean, come on. He wouldn't even really need to be a slut.
ME: But it couldn't hurt.
JEROME: And he walks right by me. I was like--Fuck you, Mr. My-Show-Closed-In-Eight-Days.
ME: I think it was more than--
JEROME: Oh my God! Amazingly funny Gavin Creel story.

He went on like this for another hour. It was like The American Musical except no Julie Andrews and way gayer.

We then went to the restaurant. It was a place he recommended that ended up being more of a piano bar than anything else.

As Jerome droned on and someone started in on "Marry Me a Little" I thought about my last conversations with Charlie and Jesse.

Things were going incredibly well with both guys until they--Well, until they seemed to not be going well.

With Jesse, it was a revelation.

ME: ...I mean, back then, if you slept with Allan, you were ostracized. He may have been the leader of the pack, but the one thing he never had on any of us was that we wouldn't have touched him with a ten foot pole. He knew it and we knew it.
JESSE: God, good thing I didn't know you back then I guess.
ME: Um, why?
JESSE: Well, I've fooled around with Allan a couple of times.
ME: You...you what?
JESSE: Yeah, when we first met. I thought he was a cool guy, I mean--

WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?

ME: Are you serious right now?
JESSE: Um, do I detect a tone of judgment in your voice?
ME: I'm sorry, it's just--if you knew what that meant--I mean...
JESSE: So you're proud of everyone you've ever slept with?
ME: Are you kidding? I don't even remember most of them.

That was a joke, by the way. Before y'all start hitting the Slut button.

ME: I just--he's like a pariah.
JESSE: Now I know that but at the time I didn't. Is it really such a big deal?

The thing is...it kind of is. Okay, ready? I know I'm being really unfair about this, because you shouldn't hold someone's past against them, but I feel like Jesse just told me he slept with a serial killer, or a puppy kicker. How could anyone ever have seen anything in Allan? And how could that person then turn around and see the same thing in me?

It freaked me out.

And then came Charlie.

ME: So what are your plans for this week?
CHARLIE: I'm thinking of going to New York.
ME: Really? That's cool.
CHARLIE: Yeah, I need to get out of this town. Providence is not for me right now. I just need to get away from everything.

Now, let me explain myself before I tell you what happened next. My whole life people have bashed RI to me.

I hate this state.
I need to get out of here.
This place sucks.
I can't wait to leave.

And I always take a personal offense to it, because...well...I'm here, aren't I? And I've spent a lot of time with Charlie lately, so when he says he needs to get away from "everything" I assume he also means--

ME: You want to get away from me too?

In retrospect I can see how this would sound self-absorbed, but it just came out, and really, if you can't put your foot in your mouth with the guy you're meant to be with than who can you--

CHARLIE: God, why does everything have to be about you?

It's funny how the things that are somewhat true always hurt worse.

So that's where I stood. Jesse was mad because I got judge-y with him and Charlie was mad because I make everything about me. Part of me thought maybe I deserved to be here at this piano bar listening to my date sing--

JEROME:

You need someone
Older and wiser
Telling you what to do

It was when I realized that he was doing "You Are 16, Going on 17" by himself that I realized I needed to cut this date short.

After dropping Jerome off at his house, I made my way down to the beach house. The only problem was that now I was in a Broadway mood. I decided to go balls to the wall and put in Songs From an Unmade Bed.

In my head, I could see all the boys--every last one of them--in tuxedos. Walking down a giant staircase and singing in some giant production number with me at the top of the staircase looking like Carol Channing. Then a spotlight hits and I'm all by myself. I realize that I'm alone, and that's when the music creeps in...

I happened by your old apartment last night

When I showed up at the beach house, Brian was just about to head out for a walk.

ME: Terrific. That's just what I need.

My phone had gone off twice while I was driving down--one from Jesse, one from Charlie. The truth is, I was wondering if maybe the reason I'm on Date #96 and still haven't found anyone is because of...me.

FRIEND: Oh f**k, you're getting philosophical.
ME: All these guys couldn't have been awful.
FRIEND: Most of them were awful, though.
ME: And I'm some prize? I mean, you know me--
FRIEND: Honey, I will never call you a prize.
ME: So why even bother? Why subject someone to the horror that is me?
FRIEND: When you're done wallowing I'll tell you, whore.
ME: Okay, go.
FRIEND: It's because you, like everyone else, is worth a little bit of happiness once in awhile.
ME: That's all you got?
FRIEND: You're lucky you called me before I got any drunker. Come 2am, the sympathy train gets docked in the station. So go walk it off on the beach and shut the f**k up.
ME: Thanks, drunkie.
FRIEND: Anytime.

Brian and I sat on the sand and watched the waves come in like two characters in a Lifetime movie.

ME: So you ever think I'm going to find him? That perfect guy?
BRIAN: I think you have as good a shot as any of us.
ME: I don't think he'll really need to be perfect. He'll just...I don't know...He'll make me feel perfect.
BRIAN: That's a pretty tall order.
ME: He'll do it and he won't even have to try. That's how I'll know. He'll take in all the flaws and the drama and he'll just smile and kiss me.

I expected some witty reaction from Brian, but instead he just smiled...

...and kissed me.