So I am sitting here the night before Valentine's Day listening to Jay Brannan and Adele with lit candles, thinking about whether or not to cancel on this guy for our date later this week. For those of you who don't know who Jay is, you are missing out on some depressingly sad songs about gay male relationships. Lezz-be-ahnist, what screams desperate and tortured like sitting alone in your cold apartment, listening to a mix of depressing and slightly more depressing music, with your off brand candles from Target.
I am most definitely one of those people who hates Valentine's Day, PDA, cute couple names, Facebook official relationships, and photos of people kissing....ONLY when I am not in a relationship. When I have someone I sometimes make sure I am doing all of those things at once (Because how the hell will people know I am happy if they don't see all of it together on Facebook every two hours. YOU know who you are, disgusting relationship people.) So as you can probably tell, I am not with anyone on this fine evening before the holiday based on love, so I am a little bitter.
The one and only Valentines Day where I had a real Valentine (not one of my girl friends who also happens to be bitter and single and desperate enough to go out with a gay man) was kind of a dud. I was 21 and we went to a crowded restaurant in DC, I bought him tickets to his favorite band and in return I got a replacement earring for the one he helped me lose two nights prior. Romance has always been kind of illusive to me. So it should come as no surprise that in a plea for attention and validation I went on a date the night of the Superbowl, in hopes that we would fall madly in love in one week and then have each other for this fine day. And if you haven't been paying attention...you will realize that didn't happen.
The Thursday before I went to New York I decided to hop on my handy dandy GPS Gaydar device known as Grindr. Thats when I began talking to this friendly fellow who lives close to the gay bars I often make appearances at over the weekend. (Read Also: I immediately decided he was a winner because then I wouldn't have to cab it home after the bars. Slumber Parties to come!!) We chatted on and off over the whole weekend and when I got home he kept trying to get me to meet with him for a drink. I was exhausted and kept pretending that the Superbowl was keeping me at home (HA! I watched Madonna walk around with a walker on stage and I watched the last 45 seconds of the game. Golden Girls had a marathon on...not my fault). When the game was over I took stock of my life and realized I was never going to meet anyone if my closest ideas of what a good relationship was, was solely based off of Blanche Devereaux's escapades.
So I pulled myself together into a somewhat acceptable form, sprayed cologne on, and made my way down to Central. As I walked in I found Mighty Duck sitting there, and he seemed to be more attractive than I thought he was going to be. (mainly because he was white...and I just don't do white very well.) We sat down and had a drink and kinda hit it off, things were going so well that we ordered a second and third drink. We were talking music and movies and a lot of other surface things. He then asked if I wanted to head back to his apartment to watch a movie. In my cute, but still tipsy, state I decided it would be good to watch something and have the dranks wear off.
When we got back to Mighty Ducks apartment we made a beeline for the t.v. (which happened to be in the bedroom...I'm a classy guy). I didn't notice much in the apartment because it was fairly dark, but seemed nice. We put on some crap movie on T.V. and start mackin' it up, not getting too handsy...because a lady doesn't give too much up on the first date. He pulls back a couple minutes in and we have a conversation I will never forget.
Mighty Duck: You are the first guy I am making out with since I broke up with my boyfriend.
Me: *like a total idiot, channeling my inner therapist* Ohh, what happened? Are you okay?
I am most definitely one of those people who hates Valentine's Day, PDA, cute couple names, Facebook official relationships, and photos of people kissing....ONLY when I am not in a relationship. When I have someone I sometimes make sure I am doing all of those things at once (Because how the hell will people know I am happy if they don't see all of it together on Facebook every two hours. YOU know who you are, disgusting relationship people.) So as you can probably tell, I am not with anyone on this fine evening before the holiday based on love, so I am a little bitter.
The one and only Valentines Day where I had a real Valentine (not one of my girl friends who also happens to be bitter and single and desperate enough to go out with a gay man) was kind of a dud. I was 21 and we went to a crowded restaurant in DC, I bought him tickets to his favorite band and in return I got a replacement earring for the one he helped me lose two nights prior. Romance has always been kind of illusive to me. So it should come as no surprise that in a plea for attention and validation I went on a date the night of the Superbowl, in hopes that we would fall madly in love in one week and then have each other for this fine day. And if you haven't been paying attention...you will realize that didn't happen.
The Thursday before I went to New York I decided to hop on my handy dandy GPS Gaydar device known as Grindr. Thats when I began talking to this friendly fellow who lives close to the gay bars I often make appearances at over the weekend. (Read Also: I immediately decided he was a winner because then I wouldn't have to cab it home after the bars. Slumber Parties to come!!) We chatted on and off over the whole weekend and when I got home he kept trying to get me to meet with him for a drink. I was exhausted and kept pretending that the Superbowl was keeping me at home (HA! I watched Madonna walk around with a walker on stage and I watched the last 45 seconds of the game. Golden Girls had a marathon on...not my fault). When the game was over I took stock of my life and realized I was never going to meet anyone if my closest ideas of what a good relationship was, was solely based off of Blanche Devereaux's escapades.
So I pulled myself together into a somewhat acceptable form, sprayed cologne on, and made my way down to Central. As I walked in I found Mighty Duck sitting there, and he seemed to be more attractive than I thought he was going to be. (mainly because he was white...and I just don't do white very well.) We sat down and had a drink and kinda hit it off, things were going so well that we ordered a second and third drink. We were talking music and movies and a lot of other surface things. He then asked if I wanted to head back to his apartment to watch a movie. In my cute, but still tipsy, state I decided it would be good to watch something and have the dranks wear off.
When we got back to Mighty Ducks apartment we made a beeline for the t.v. (which happened to be in the bedroom...I'm a classy guy). I didn't notice much in the apartment because it was fairly dark, but seemed nice. We put on some crap movie on T.V. and start mackin' it up, not getting too handsy...because a lady doesn't give too much up on the first date. He pulls back a couple minutes in and we have a conversation I will never forget.
Mighty Duck: You are the first guy I am making out with since I broke up with my boyfriend.
Me: *like a total idiot, channeling my inner therapist* Ohh, what happened? Are you okay?
(What? Are you okay? WE were mackin' it on his BED and you asked "Are you okay?" Ok Dr. Buzkill lets see what the therapist finds out...)
Mighty Duck: Yeah, we broke up three weeks ago. He was such a jerk and a total deadbeat.
Me: Awww, and what makes him a deadbeat and a jerk, Mighty?
Mighty Duck: Well he lives in bumblefuck in a house his parents own and he works in the pool industry. Plus he is old...he is like...31.
Me: Wow, that sounds really familiar for some reason. To be fair, you are 26...31 isn't that old. But hey, thats just me! What does he look like?
Mighty Duck: He is half-black and about 5'10". Omg and I didn't tell you, he has 3 kids, oldest one is 13.
Me: *Sheer terror of realization* Is his name...is it....Grandpa?????
Mighty Duck: Yeah! How did you know??
Yup, thats right....I was on a date with Grandpa's ex-boyfriend. The same boyfriend who Grandpa cheated on, with me, while on the dance floor of Central as I shook my money maker. I was completely mortified at this point and decided I needed to go to the bathroom. As I walked through the living room I noticed a mannequin with a white suit on it, but not just any white suit, one that had a jacket straight off of a Britney Spears tour. This jacket had silver chains and rhinestones all over it and it had feathers shooting off the shoulders. (Yes I said feathers, like duck feathers as shoulder pads). With everything else I had just been forced to digest, I decided to ignore this and just go to the bathroom. I gave myself a pep-talk and went back to his side.
As we sat and talked more, and I sobered up more, I was beginning to notice that the decorations in his apartment were a cross between an old Victorian home and what a 12yr old girl would think an old Victorian room might look like. Mighty Duck then brought up his birthday being that Wednesday. He told me that he was going out Tuesday and Wednesday in Baltimore and DC on Thursday. Then he began talking about Saturday.
Mighty Duck: Saturday is going to be the major party night! Did you see the gorgeous suit in the living room?
Me: Uhhhh yeah? Kinda hard to miss...its very...Gaga?
Mighty Duck: Omg I love it....I'm wearing it on Saturday to Central!!! I die!
Me: Wow...don't you think its a bit much for Central? It's a pretty...eccentric costume...
Mighty Duck: Life is better in costume, duh!
That's not true at all. Life isn't better in costume, in fact life is fairly uncomfortable in most costumes. Unless you were picked to wear your pajama's as your costume, life is NOT more fun in costume. Also...how the hell was I supposed to make him my Valentine's date when he is obviously a bit off his rocker? I decided I needed another bathroom break at this point, since I was now completely sober and on a date with Grandpa's ex who also happened to be into dressing in Nicki Minaj's rejected tour costumes.
When I got into the bathroom I was blinded by 3 major things I had failed to notice before, that could have tipped me off that he was a bit fem cray cray.
- In silver and rhinestones above his mirror was the word "GORGEOUS". (It was probably the most inaptly named sign I had ever seen...)
- Everything had some sort of pink on it, whether it was bows or pink letters, or just straight up pink accessories.
- There was a Coach make-up bag filled with make-up on the counter. He lives alone. He owns a Coach. Make-Up, Bag.
"O.M.G You let BRUISER out!"
(Yup. Yup. Yup. his dog was named after Legally Blonde)
I rushed out of the bathroom and let him know I was ill and needed to go home. He protested for a moment and then let me go. Several days later, while I was sleeping I received several texts from him:
Mighty Duck: come over, its my birthday. [1:45am]
Mighty Duck: ??? [1:47am]
Mighty Duck: Are you on your way? [1:50am]
Mighty Duck: Come cuddle me warm [1:52am]
Mighty Duck: Guess you arent coming, but if you read this, come. [2:14am]
I ignored all of them and went on my merry way. That Thursday I ventured out on the town with gay bffls and our straight lady friend. We danced around with each other, drank obscene amounts, and had a grand time. When I got home I jumped on Grindr to see if anyone messaged me before clocking out, since it was 3am. I had several messages, one being from Mighty Duck.
"Guess you found someone to fuck tonight. Goodnight"
In my drunken stupor I decided to respond and see where this went.
Me: Haha...whaaaat? Thats an odd greeting?
Mighty Duck: I saw you dancing with that black guy. You were dirty dancing.
Me: He is my bffl....and dirty dancing? Are we in middle school? Also did you see the white guy I was dancing with?
Mighty Duck: Yeah...is he who you are going to fuck tonight?
Me: So crude. No...the black guy and the white guy are dating. And the girl I was dancing with was a straight lady friend, not gonna fuck her either...no need to ask
Mighty Duck: So are you in bed with both the guys?
Me; No....also wtf?
Mighty Duck: My point exactly, why didn't you talk to me
Me: I didn't see you. I was too busy figuring out which one of my unattainable friends I was going to sleep with.
Mighty Duck: I knew it. If you aren't sleeping with them, you should come over.
Me: Really? Reaaaallly? I'm gonna go ahead and pass. Goodnight
Mighty Duck: No...come over. Now
Mighty Duck: Now?
Mighty Duck: Are you on your way?
Mighty Duck: When are you getting here
Mighty Duck: ??????
Mighty Duck: :(?
Mighty Duck: ? boo
As you can see, my new found stalker who happens to be Grandpa's ex is currently my deterrent from heading out on another random date with the "eligible" bachelors of Baltimore. (I also realized I have now dated a majority of the city #winning)
Fabulously Lost: 0 (I detracted .5 for this past date and gave it to Internet Dating)
Internet Dating: 12
Costumes: Best left to Nicki and Britney
Golden Girls: Only suitable activity for the late nights.
Ducks and Dogs: Don't mix...unfortunate combo
Valentines Day: Sucky Holiday (unless you wanna be my valentine?)
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