Mickey Mouse Club: Adult Edition

I don't know if you have been following or not, but I have gone on quite a few dates with people that seem to resemble cartoon or t.v. characters in some way or another. There was the man who walked exactly like Betty Boop, and the wealthy but cheap Dr. Chandler Bing, and most recently the beloved Harry Potter half-giant Hagird. Maybe it's because I have this incessant need to date all the fictional characters I have loved over the years or maybe its because I am just that blind when it comes to finding love, but this story is no different from the others.

I sometimes wonder if I will forever be stuck in a cycle of singledom because of the peculiar choices I make in men. I have a very set and defined list of things that I would like to have from a man, yet it seems that I am the first person to throw that list out the door when it comes time to actually go on a date. I was messaging probably 10 or so guys between OkCupid and Grindr, where I was sheepishly looking for male attention and a free meal. This was before I was off Grindr (for the billionth time) which I promised all of you I was going to stay off of because I am not trying to be a hooker anymore (ok, ok, if I am going to be honest...I am back on Grindr. Not by choice. I was forced...by loneliness, such a biatch). 

I decided to settle on a nice gentleman with glasses who worked in a cubicle in College Park. He was a year older than me and seemed to be cute and clever and witty through online messaging. I was trying not to get myself hyped up about him, since I had been on quite a few duds before, but it was hard since he seemed so great.

One of the big tellers of what a person is going to be like, for me at least, is the restaurant they choose for us to go to. A solid 90% of the time I end up telling a person that I want them to pick out their favorite restaurant because you really can tell a lot about a person by this. Unfortunately, I never listen to the warning signs and I walk into horrific dining situations all the time. This fine gentleman chose Olive Garden as his favorite restaurant, which is a warning sign in my mind. Coming from a partially Italian family who knows how to cook, Olive Garden is a place where families go when they are going through a rough patch at home...not a place to connect or make a love connection.

Obviously I ignored this warning and showed up to the date about 10min early. I always like to show up early so I can scope out the scene around where the date is happening. (I needz to know my escape routes in case this guy is an axe murderer or I'd like to jump off the highest building to end the date). I get a text about five minutes into the date that he is going to be about 30min late. Now here is the question I sat and asked myself, did he mean he was going to be 30min late from when he texted or 30min late from the start of the date? I thought about this for a solid 45min until he actually showed up for the date (You can do the math on that one sparky).

When he did show up he looked like he was the before photo from the obviously airbrushed photos he had posted on his profile. Then he opened his mouth....and out came what I can only describe as a Mickey Mouse type squeal. Now I am not sitting here saying that I am the most masculine guy in the world and I certainly have a case of gay voice, but I know that when I talk I am not shattering glass around me. It took every once of will power I had not to show some sort of discomfort when he talked, but I am pretty sure I ended up looking constipated. (you win some, you lose some, yet my constipated face was still cuter than that sound.) 

We ended up getting a table right away, since it was now close to 9pm and most families who had come here had reconnected and are at home watching ABC Family. (I wish I was with them watching Pretty Little Liars...get on my level if you don't know what that is.#thisiswhyimsingle). Mickey Mouse seemed to be unaware of his cartoonish voice and was extremely talkative from the get go. He also seemed to be very comfortable with me because he delved into some serious issues really early on.

Mickey: Do you have a big family? Are you close with them?
Me: I have 2 brothers and a bunch of cousins. I'm pretty close with all of them! What about you?
Mickey: Well, I used to be close with my parents and sister, but then I came out and they kicked me out. My sister doesn't talk to me anymore except through random text messages telling me I am going to hell. 
Me: Omg, that's awful. I'm really sorry...
Mickey: Oh its okay, I'm sure it will all blow over. I am hoping for a boyfriend to show them I am stable. Maybe you will be the first guy I bring home?!
Me: Wow, uh well this is our first date! Lets see how things go before we meet the family.
Mickey: Totally makes sense, your family sounds great. That's my other hope, that I meet someone who has a close family and adopts me. You seem to have that kind of family!


Whooaaaa, he just married my family. Like literally, this man and I have been on a date for a solid 20min and he has committed to marrying my family and bringing me over to his family to fix their relationship. Also, he kept saying I have a great family, all I told him about my family was how many brothers I have and that I am "pretty close to all of them." I am well aware of how wonderful my family is, but I haven't told this person about any of this. For all he knows we could all be into Satanism and have a cult farm in Utah. I could be the child of polygamists where I don't really know who my mom is, but I've got an inkling who it is because one of my "moms" seems to favor me by giving me easier chores. (this is what I was thinking about as he rambled about his life issues...I've got an active imagination. My mother said its endearing. Ughhh, you guys make me judge myself)


Mickey: Yeah, so I don't have a college degree because they kicked me out before my last semester and cut me off. 
Me: That's terrible. Where did you go?
Mickey: I work a dead-end job and I live in the basement of this persons house not too far from here. But I can have guests over whenever I want! 
Me: Uhhh...err....thats nice? Do you like it there?
Mickey: I like the rent, the people are fairly old so I can't go crazy with partying. But I gave drinking up because I tend to get out of hand. No need to get arrested again. 
Me: Arrested? When were you arrested?
Mickey: Oh, for being too drunk in public! They put me in the drunk tank, it's not on my record so its not a big deal. 


Holy crap ballz. This man's life is a wreck. At this point I was more concerned for his well being then getting into his pants (which is a fairly big deal for me...looking for love can get stagnant! Gotta stay sustained somehow. WHATEVER....I get it...I'm a hooker. Rude.) I literally wanted to hug him and tell him it would be alright. Mickey sure knew how to mask his vocal issues by pouring his heart and soul out onto the table for me.

As I mentioned earlier, I am normally looking for a free meal on these dates, but due to the circumstances I paid for the dinner. He felt bad so he offered for me to come back to his place (since he can have people over whenever he wants!), but I politely declined the invitation to go to the Mickey Mouse club and bid him adieu. We stayed Facebook friends for over a year with him randomly commenting on my status', until I found out last week that he had defriended me. I felt a pang of rejection...because when you are no longer attached through Facebook...you are truly no longer friends.


Fabulously Lost: Out $50 bucks, and in need of more therapy
Mickey Mouse: Not your happy-go-lucky mouse
Olive Garden: When you're there, you have mediocre food with some bangin' breadsticks
My Family: Not into Satanism or in a cult....yet. Also not polygamist...to my knowledge

Harry Potter in Shambles

Most of my close friends are aware of my odd fascination with most things Harry Potter related. What I really mean by "odd fascination" is that I tend to try and fit anything HP related into my daily conversation. I think this is a normal thing, but I have been told that I should hide that type of crazy from most people until several dates in. (Other "odd fascinations" I have include, and are not limited to, '90s teen bop music, '00s teen bop music, '10s teen bop music {Shut it...Selena speaks to me], and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. And Britney.) Whenever I thought about which HP character I would end up with I, along with most human beings, imagined I would date Harry or Ron or even Malfoy (loves me a good bad boy. he's a fixer-upper.) I never in a million years thought I would end up on a date with Hagrid.

Now, my Hagrid (it bothers me that I can say "my Hagrid" forever and for always...), wasn't as hairy as the mythical friendly half giant that lived on the grounds of Hogwarts, but he wasn't too far off. This gentleman began messaging me over OkCupid and seemed decent enough. I had gone on a string of bad dates with people that had fit my "type" (which means they were black.) and decided that I needed to branch out and date people who were outside of my "type" (which means non-black). This was mistake #1.This seemed logical enough for me and gave me new found hope that I was supposed to find someone who I wasn't conventionally attracted to and that we would find love in each other because of our differences!

Hagrid worked locally at a restaurant and was 27 years old. He was 6' 4", had some light scruff, and only had face pics on the site. (this generally means he has something to hide, but as we know...I'm a desperate daisy and tend to forgo any warnings) He didn't delve into exactly what he did at the restaurant but he did say that he loved where he worked because of the regulars. This should have been seen as a red flag, but instead I saw this as him being a friendly guy who enjoyed getting to know the patrons of the restaurant he owned. (Notice what I did there...he said he worked at a restaurant and I convinced myself he owned it. #crazypartyof1) Hagrid told me he wanted me to come to his restaurant where he worked for our first date, but I decided I wanted to be treated like the gem that I am and wanted to go to his favorite restaurant in his neighborhood in Baltimore. This was mistake #2.

When I arrived at the "restaurant" that he chose as his favorite in his neighborhood, I should have probably turned around and left but I didn't. This was mistake #3. The outside of the bar looked like it was made of wood that scavenged from an old dirty pirate ship. The neon sign was like the little sign that could, flickering every so often to let you know they were O-EN.  There was also one window on the first floor and it was blacked out. I decided that this was just "rustic charm" and tried to give this dive a chance. 

Hagrid was sitting there at the end of the bar when I walked in and his "scruff" was a full fledged beard and when he stood up, he not only towered over me, but he was twice the weight of me (and I am no tiny duckling). Instead of the normal handshake to say hello, he engulfed me in a hug...and smushed my face into his beard nest thing. Not running away at this point was mistake #4

Hagrid: You look just like I thought you would! I hope you like my choice, I'm a regular here.

(There he goes again with the "regulars"....)

Me: You look...just like....you. This is an interesting place...do they have good food/drink specials. 

Hagrid: Well I wouldn't say they have good food, but the chef knows how to heat up a good burger. 

Ummm he knows how to heat up a good burger? What the hell does that mean? This is a restaurant shouldn't they be cooking the burgers fresh? Shouldn't it be a specialty since that is standard bar food?? WHERE THE HELL AM I?!?!

Me: Well it sounds like you know a good burger...what are their drink specials

Hagrid: Beer

Me: Oh nice, uh..err...do they have anything else?

Hagird: I'd stick to the beer

Me: So I guess I don't really need to look at the menu do I? (mistake #5)

Hagrid: That's the spirit! I knew you'd like this place.  I hate sissy fem gays who can't handle a little roughness around the edge. 

So... I don't think about myself as a "sissy fem gay" but I also like the finer things in life. My family never taught me how to camp and I like new clothes and nice restaurants and being treated well and staying in hote....ok so I might be a little bit of a "sissy". (who the hell cares. Suck it judgers) On the same token, I loves me a good dive bar because they tend to have good greasy food and cheap drinks. This place just looked like it was mice infested and hadn't been cleaned since the mid-1800s. I let him do all of the ordering because I couldn't understand the garbling of the bartender when she came up to us. She looked like a cross between and amazon woman and a yeti. Impeccable english.

(This is a real painting. All I had to type in was "Yeti Woman" and soooo many pictures came up. people are weird)

 We tried to make small talk about everything and anything and slowly began to realize we had very little in common.

Hagrid: Do you like dogs?
Me: Yeah, I didn't grow up with dogs but I like the idea of small to medium sized dogs. My bffl has a boxer that I'm in love with
Hagrid: Oh...I have a great dane. He is kinda unruly, like me! 
Me: Ha..ha..thats cool. What do you like to do for fun on the weekends?
Hagrid: I work most weekends at the restaurant, so I don't have a lot of time to hang out. 
Me: Right! What kinda restaurant is it?
Hagrid: It's actually almost exactly like this place a few streets over...its owned by the same guy!
Me: *shudders* Fun....so what do you do there? (mistake #6)
Hagrid: Well I was a bartender, but I drink too much sometimes so I was demoted to bar back. He can't fire me though cause I blew him once. He's afraid I'll tell his wife. *begins a hearty bellowing of a laugh that almost knocks over our "beers"*

As you can see, we have very little in common. For starters, our dog choices are not compatible. While this seems minor in this very moment you have to remember that I am on the search for long term lovin'. This means that if he prefers bigger dogs, later in life (Not that we would EVER get there) he would want a big dog. I have no urge to have my kids learning to horseback ride on our dog. Second, he works most weekends because he is a bar back. I work during the week and usually use my weekend for "extracurricular activities." Finally, I have no issue with his job choice or that he works at a bar that looks like you get herpes from sitting in it, but that he is proud of his job security due to blowing the owner at one point in time.

The really 'effed up part of this (disturbed that we haven't reached the effed up part yet? ME TOO)  is that after we awkwardly finished out food (and by finished I mean I pushed around the charred circle that resembled what used to be a burger) Hagrid asked me if I was okay walking him back to his place....and...I...said...yes. HOLD YOUR HORSES. I had no intention of going back to his place for hanky panky, but I was intrigued by the adventure of seeing where a half-giant lives. (I hear you judging me. I feel it with your eyes. That's just rude. Can't a guy just walk a giant home?) This is mistake #7.


Anywhoz, what I saw there is something that both shocked me and left my jaw dropped for days. Hagrid opened the door to his Baltimore row home and let me into what looked like the island of misfit...well...misfit everything. As soon as I walked in there was artwork on the wall that was large and in charge and had pizza smeared on it. I could tell it was pizza because there was a slice stuck to it in the top right hand corner.

Hagrid: We had a party that was a little wild 
Me: Oh wow, is it like an after work thing on the weekends?
Hagrid: Uhh...no it was like a Monday? I don't know, whatever the first Monday of the month was.


Nowwwww, we were closing in on the beginning of December, so this Pizza Artwork had been left on the wall for almost a month. But WAIT...it gets better! We moved past this Picasso and moved onto the living room where clothing made up what should be where a carpet was. Men's, women's, and children's clothing was strewn about. (Did you squint at that for a second? Did I just say children's clothing? Yup, yup I did) I also saw random children's toys laying all over the place and began to question what I had gotten myself into and just as I turned towards the door I was almost completely knocked over by a massive furry bear of an animal.

Hagrid: DOWN NICKELBACK! GET DOWN! 


You'd think I'd be startled by this stampeding elephant dog but, in reality, my mind immediately went to the fact that his dog was named after Nickelback, the widely hated American rock band. Not only did I find this a dumb name for an animal, but I also was appalled because I don't like this band and I have never found their songs (which all sound the same) all that exciting or great.

Me: Did you say your whale dog's name was Nickelback?
Hagrid: Yeah, they are the greatest band of all time. I have a tattoo dedicated to them on my body, you'll see it later if you're a good boy. *winks*
Me: I think I'll pass, I generally don't need rewards for being a good person. Why the hell are their children's toys and clothing everywhere?
Hagrid: Um, they're my roommates sons clothing. You remember the bartender from the bar we ate at? I live with her and her 3 year old son. Don't worry, when we have parties he stays at his grandma's down the road. 


Yup, he calmed my nerves. Hagrid let me know that the child is  not around for their pizza slinging, wolly mammoth stomping, incoherent garbling, beer guzzling parties. I am now completely comfortable with the situation I have gotten myself into, THANKS for that Hagrid. It was at this point, and only now, did I feel that I was ready to leave. As I walked towards the door I could hear him following me to let me out. I turned around to the most surprising event of the evening. This was the final mistake, mistake #8.


Hagrid lifted me off the ground, put me against the wall and planted a kiss on a majority of my face with his giant man bearded lips. I felt like my head was being taken over in an alien death kiss as my feet wiggled in the air. After what seemed like eons, he put me back on the ground.

Hagrid: I have wanted to do that all night. You have nice lips
Me: Uh, well I think I should go.
Hagird: If you ever wanna go out again, let me know. I can get you free drinks at the bar...if my boss isn't there. 


I, as I know it must surprise you, did not take him up on this kind offer. I cut down the beanstalk, sans any golden eggs, and never saw the giant again.

Internet Dating; Infinity
Fabulously Lost: Curbing Harry Potter Fantasies
Mistakes: Blatantly obvious to everyone but me
Voldemort: He won this battle.

Gay Mecca

You may be asking yourself where I have been over the last couple of weeks and why I haven't been as active. I wish I could say it was because I was on safari in Africa or because I was promoted to some amazing position and I had no time for silly things like this. In reality its because I moved home, had an existential crisis, went to San Francisco, and began working a horrific shift at work. Now this may sound depressing, but in actuality it...it...well, yes, it is kinda depressing but I am a fairly upbeat person, so I am looking at the silver lining, I am still single and ready to mingle! (this also sounds depressing...) So I can write about my love life for a little longer!

So I mentioned that I had the pleasure of going to San Francisco for a work trip a couple weeks ago, which also happened to be my first time in this Gay Mecca. To be honest I went into this expecting to see Rainbows on every street corner and for it to sound weird for people to go to "straight bars." I was surprised when I didn't find this upon entry of the city, but I did fall in love twice while on this 4 day trip. (I move quickly on the west coast apparently).

My co-worker and I flew out of Baltimore on the Thursday, which turned out to be one of the worst flights ever. We boarded Southwest, which is known for their friendly flight attendants and....and...welp, that's about all they are known for and that's all we got. We both checked in rather late for the flight, ensuring that we would be forced to awkwardly sit in the middle seat for our 6 hour flight to LA. As I got on the plane I prayed for a lone isle or window seat (I actually looked to the sky and asked little baby Jesus for this), but was unfortunate enough to sit next to two tragically awkward, but nice people.

As you all might have gathered in the past, I tend to have a fairly addictive personality and when I find something or someone I love, I generally cannot get enough of it. Several days prior to the trip I began reading The Hunger Games and decided this would be the best thing for me to focus on during my plane ride. (I was so torn...Team Peeta or Team Gale. I decided, since its a fantasy world, I will take both of them! Such a harlot). These two humans sitting on either side of me decided to overrule this plan and take turns talking my ear off. It was like Taxi Cab Confessionals except I couldn't jump out of the moving plane to stop listening. The gentleman in the isle seat was severely socially awkward and told me so (I felt like this was an awkward first date...that I couldn't escape)


Isle Geek: So...are planes your thing?
Me: Umm, I'm not really sure what you mean by that...but I do like flying.
Isle Geek: Oh cool...me too. I'm heading to San Jose for a computer science conference. 
Me: Cool, I am going to San Fran for a work conference. Is this for your job?
Isle Geek: Nope...I am just going to take notes on the public speaking so one day I can talk at these things. I suck at talking to people. 
Me: Well you aren't doing so bad talking to me.
Isle Geek: Cool. *silence for what seemed like an hour but was probably 30 seconds* Well I will think of more things to talk about, I think we have about 5hrs left. 


.....At this point my mind went into panic mode. Surely this man didn't want to talk for 5hours straight. I usually get sick of my closest friends after 2hrs. (if you are a close friend of mine...I didn't mean that. I have a gun pointed to my head?....you're pretty?...I take it back! ughhh) I kept looking down at The Hunger Games and it was teasing me with its strong black cover (we have discussed my affinity for all things black, mainly men) and its enticingly beautiful pages. This man was encroaching on my date with Peeta. (Rude!) I told him that I was going to try and catch some Zzz's and I immediately closed my eyes. Much to my dismay, I realized my evil plan was foiled because I wouldn't be able to read with my eyes closed. I sat there for a solid 20min listening to him talk over me to Window Woman. I slowly tried to insert my headset into my ears without the two them noticing, while my eyes were closed. Either they are as dense as I hoped they were, or they realized I wanted no part in their banter over their favorite Anime characters, because they left me alone for a good portion of the flight.

The connecting flight from LAX to San Francisco is where I fell in love for the first time. The plane was less crowded and I had an awesome window seat near the front. I was one of the first people on the plane and I almost immediately whipped out my book and began reading. As people boarded I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that a gentleman sat to my right in the isle seat. Luckily, we ended up not having anyone sit between us and could spread out a little more. Within moments this gentleman decided he wanted to talk to me....I was not pleased...until I realized he wanted to talk about The Hunger Games. When I looked up my eyes were met with a very handsome man!

Mystery Man and I completely hit it off and he made the flight go by rather fast. I stuttered several times because I apparently become a teenager when presented with fine specimens on a plane. We started talking about music and what we were into, who we listened to, what our current obsessions were. Then Mystery Man revealed that he was an artist himself coming back form recording in Nashville. (I blushed when he told me this. As if he had just complimented me. But he hadn't...all he did was tell me his job.) I was sitting next to the famous Youtube singer, Jeremy Passion. This dashing gentleman has an awesome sound and he ended up giving me his two CD's. (As a half-jew, he had me locked in when he offered me free things. I am a sucker for a deal. A deal and famous youtube personality, if we weren't on a plane I would of offered to drop trou) Unfortunately for me, in this one instance, the attractive man to my right happened to be straight. We had to part ways...but not before exchanging numbers and following each other on twitter. (It's not true love unless you follow each other on twitter. Facts of modern day love) 

The second time I fell in love in this Gay Mecca came the day after I had heart palpitations for Jeremy Passion. I was alone in this great city walking around and exploring. After I had decided I had seen enough, I made my way to the massive Westerfield mall across from my hotel for some retail therapy. I walked in and out of a few of my regular stores and then fell upon Lucky Brand. The men in the store were cute and as I circled, I realized I couldn't afford most of the things in the store. Not wanting to seem like just some joe-shmo from the East Coast, I ended up buying two $25 pairs of underwear. (It's at this point that I received the affirmation that it is extremely expensive to be gay.) I have no idea why I did this or why I felt the need to prove myself to these pretty gay men in the store, but I did and now I have some wonderfully comfortable underwear that cost me two days worth of food. Don't worry it gets worse.

For some reason, as I was walking out of the mall I was drawn to Kenneth Cole. It was like a magnetic pull, even though I knew nothing good would come from this little adventure. (and ohhhh was I right) As soon as I walked in I was greeted by most attractive sales person I had seen in a really long time, we shall call him KC Hottie (because I am 12 and spell hottie with an i-e, and if I were writing it on paper it would have a little heart for the dot). KC Hottie and I began making eye love (which is deeper than eye sex or eye fucking) and he followed me into a couple of the different areas of the store. He had this boyish smile and I was roped into every word he said. He was whispering sweet nothings like:

KC Hottie: Sooo have you been to Kenneth Cole before?

and

KC Hottie: Are you looking for anything particular? 

As you can see, it was love at first sight. We were meant to be together and all I had to do was pretend to be interested in buying something, for him to continue paying attention to me. (I have done wayyyy worse to keep a mans attention....shut up...this is a judgement free zone) He started asking me more personal questions like:

KC Hottie: So are you from out of town? *flashes a sheepish grin*
Me: *trying to be coy and cute* HAHAHA How did you know?? Is it that obvious?!?!
KC Hottie: Welll...*points at sweatshirt*...your sweatshirt does say MD
Me: *turning bright red* Oh. Yes yes I am from MD, this is my first time to San Fran. Is it your first time too?
KC Hottie: Haha *Grins again* No, I work here, but I am originally from Southern California. I like it better up here though
Me: I like it better up here now too. Uhhh...I mean...I've been to LA before...and I liked this better?

As you can see, we were destined to have small babies together and live a domestic lifestyle. (Or as Rick Santorum likes to call it, "the deathstyle". Bringing down heterosexual families, one gay family bbq at a time) We were close to the register when I picked up a random pair of jeans and decided I was going to buy them in order to redeem myself for the awkward nature of my initial conversation. I should have looked at the price tag, tried them on, and decided like a normal person if this was the most financially sound decision, considering I had just spent a portion of my retirement fund on underwear 30min earlier.

KC Hottie: Do you want to try those on? They are a great pair
Me: Haha nah, I know my size! I have gone shopping here before...
KC Hottie: Oh, I thought this was...nevermind *flashes huge grin and looks me dead in the eye* I am sure they will look great on you
Me: HAHAHA shoooj me too  
 (Yes I did actually make a sound that could be spelled "shooj", because when I really like someone I revert to animalistic sounds to communicate with them) 
KC Hottie: Would you like too...
Me: Yes I would
KC Hottie: Uh...I didn't finish the question, hahaha. Did you want to donate $10 to Haiti?
Me: Oh...yeah. I saw that when I came in. Of course I do...I love Haiti.

I want you to sit with that for a minute. I just cut him off during his sales pitch and then finished with "I love Haiti," as if this is a normal thing to say to people. (I wonder if he writes a blog about his love life and my nickname is Haiti Lover. ahhh I can only hope *swoon*)

KC Hottie: That's awesome *smiles with a glimmer in his eye* I love when someone seems passionate about things. Your total is $105.78
 Me: Well I hope these pants are magical.... *grudgingly hands over credit card and pays*
KC Hottie: What? Oh..er...yeah they are?  Have an awesome trip, and come back and visit me! 

Why yes, yes I did spend over a $100 on a pair of pants. No, no I don't have that kind of money to spend on jeans. I feel like this is almost how a person feels after they pay for sex. There is a little bit of buyers remorse, but at the same time the product makes you feel like a million dollars. KC Hottie will always be one of my fondest memories of San Fran, and when I go back...we will for sure get gay married.

Fabulously Lost: Broke, homeless, but stylish
San Francisco: Poppin' with hotties left and right
Prostitution: A constant theme in my blog, and possibly similar to buying expensive jeans
Southwest: Always the worst airplane to take to the west coast

True Life: RIP Insta-Hookin'

So I have been getting into the swing of things with match.com and I have decided to completely get rid of some of the sites where people are more inclined to just be interested in hooking up. This includes getting rid of Grindr  which has had its longest run on my phone of recent, a whole 4months without being deleted. (I have gotten ride of this site 8x over the last year as a "cleanser"...it will probs be back, don't lose hope in more awkward tales). But I wanted to take an "RIP" moment with all of you to discuss some of my more colorful conversations that happened on these sites, all of these never fully forming into tragic dates due to the tragic nature of the conversations.

At different times over the last few months I have talked to everyone under the sun on these mobile trollop conventions. I have tried to talk to people who are older (by more than I am willing to admit), younger, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, you name it I have accepted their conversations...even though I shouldn't have in most cases. Over the last few months there was one that went on for awhile longer than it should have and also scarred me for life. Back in November I decided that I enjoyed the idea of being a "sugar baby". I had just watched True Life: I'm a Sugar Baby and had made the decision that this could be the life for me.

 (put "True Life" in front of anything and I am guaranteed to think I can be that or I am that....its like being a hypochondriac but for reality television. I convinced myself I had tourette's once just to fit in with the show. Annnnd I wonder why I'm single. ) 

Anywhoz, I was on the prowl for an older guy who hinted at money and a promise of taking me out on a special and fabulous date. By prowl, I mean I just needed to turn on Grindr and wait about 20min for an older man to message me with something wildly inappropriate or a compliment. A majority of these compliments would end up feeling creepy because  the complements were always like "Well don't you look handsome there fellow"  or "What brings a strapping young fellow like yourself on this site." These seem like harmless things but they also remind me that I am talking to someone who could possibly be old enough to be my father.

 Well this fateful day Penthouse decided he was going to message me and see how I was doing. We chatted for a bit, fairly casually before he began to get a bit more aggressive. He started asking me about my favorite hot spots in Baltimore and then we began talking about New York (which quite literally may be the key to my heart. That and cheese. A convo about NY and Cheese or NY Cheese [idk what that is but it sounds good] and you may as well just get a hotel room cause I am ready to make babies) 

Penthouse: I see that you were born in NY...do you like it up there?

Me: OMGZZZZZZ I lurv it up there. I want to move there soon and live and play and dance and work and just beeeee. Its my passion. The state of NY is my passion. 

Penthouse: Aww that's cute. I have an apartment up there because 2 of my kids live in the city. 

Me: Wow...where is your apt?

Penthouse: It's on the Upper East Side....its actually a penthouse, I bought it a few years ago and it was one of my best investments. 

Me: Ha..ha..uhh...whoa. Uhh yeah I usually sleep on people's couches so I don't have to spring for a hotel

Penthouse: Well, if our date goes well...you can always use my penthouse. 

(SIDE NOTE: Gotta Go My Own Way from High School Musical 2 just came on my iPod. I got rullll excited about it and I also know all the words. Its these moments I know there is no question about my sexuality or the fact I am single for a reason)

Ok...so yeah...he offered his PENTHOUSE to me within our first 2 hours of talking. He didn't even ask for durrty pictures or ask about sleeping together. This is EXACTLY how I pictured my Sugar Baby lifestyle. True Life has yet to fail in teaching me about how to become or avoid becoming many different things (I will never be a heroin addict nor will I ever have a porn addiction, BUT I do know how to come out to my parents if they happen to be from the Pacific Islands.) I was obviously intrigued by his offer and also surprised because we hadn't actually made plans for a date yet...but he was quite presumptuous. 

Me: Wow...nice. Errrr what date are we going on?

Penthouse: Oh, well I guess I never officially asked you out, but I would love to take you on a special date around the city. 

Me: The whole city? That seems like a very exhausting evening

Penthouse: Well I would have a car pick you up of course, I am a gentleman. 

Me: Oh of course, that makes sense. That would be swell. Where do you live. 

Penthouse: I own an apartment on the top floor of Eden, in Harbor East. 

Me: Isn't that a roundabout way of saying you have a penthouse apartment in Harbor East

Penthouse: Yes. 

All I kept seeing $$$$. HOW DID I LAND THE JACKPOT IN SUGAR DADDIES!

Me: Cool cool. You mentioned kids...were you married before?

Penthouse: Ahh this convo already. Yes I was...for 25 years.

Uhhhhhhhhhh Whaaaaaaaat?????? Now I am not a math expert or anything...BUT....being 23 and him being married for 25 years means that he had an entire marriage longer than I have been alive. At this point I started trying to psych myself back into the conversation. There was a bit of a pause...a few moments where I didn't know how to respond calmly. 

Me: Ah yes, well most marriages don't last that long. Congrats...on long marriages?

Penthouse: Well it ended for obvious reasons...lol. Does me being older bother you?

Me: Pffft whaaaat? Haha noooo...does me being young bother you?

Penthouse: No...it's one of my favorite things about you other than your smile

Me: Compliments get you everywhere. 

Penthouse: Everywhere? Good to know. 

Me: Hehe...sooo how many kids do you have?

Penthouse: Three. 26, 24, 21. 

Me: whoa...uhhh err....how old exactly are you?
Penthouse: Do you really want to know?
Me: Nah I just ask for shits and giggles. OF course I want to know.
Penthouse: I'm 57. 


HOLY CRAPBAG BATMAN! I don't know what I was thinking but for some reason I had placed this man in his mid to late 40s. It wasn't until he said his children's ages that made me think twice about his age. I told him that it was a bit of a reach for me and I said "Good day Sir". I really wanted to be a Sugar Baby...but the idea of going on dates with someone who was actually older than my parents...made me second guess this choice. I really like nice things...but apparently love does know an age limit in my mind.


Over the last year their have been some interesting pick up lines as well as some interesting reactions to things I have said. Below is a compilation of both!


JohnsHop: Hey there cutie, how are you?
Me: Great...hows it going?
JohnsHop: Better now that I'm talking to you ;)
Me: Haha..nice...so do you go to John's Hopkins?
JohnsHop: Cute and quick on the uptake. Yes. 
Me: Cool...what are you studying
JohnsHop: I'm studying penis' and I think you need yourself a penis doctor...
Me: Welp....I think I'm good. Mine is doing just fine. guess you'll have to find someone else.


I have to give it to him...he made me chuckle. Though I will walk out the door of whatever clinic he is a doctor at.


Lonely?: Hey are you busy?
Me: Hey...do I know you?
Lonely?: No...why would you ask that?
Me: Well asking me if I am busy seems to imply that we have talked before and you know that I am generally a busy guy.
Lonely?: Errr no...I just wanted to know if you wanted to come over and enjoy a nice bottle of Andre. 
Me: As....nice?...as that offer sounds I think I am going to have to pass. I am in fact busy
Lonely?: Oh...well if you ever wanna 69 let me know.


Ummmmm what? If I ever want to 69? HOW is that a follow up to "lets enjoy a nice bottle of Andre" (a classy drank I might add.)


D4Y: Hey there fellow
Me: Hey...what does D4Y mean?
D4Y: Daddy looking for younger. You need a Daddy tonight?
Me: No...I'm good. I'm morally opposed to calling men who are not my father "daddy". Its actually kinda weird if I call him "daddy".
D4Y: Well I can be whatever you want....
Me: I think I want you to be blocked. Good Day Sir.


This is a convo I have quite often with people on the site. I usually like to point out to these people that I could be their son. I also point out that I don't feel that anyone should be called "Daddy" outside of your own father. I actually really disapprove of Usher's song "Hey Daddy" because of this (Which is a huge surprise since I would literally do anything to...er..for Usher?)

Dance4lyfe: Hey there
Me: Heyyy...I'm sorry I'm not really into younger men. You look very nice though
Dance4lyfe: That's okay. I just wanted to see if you wanted to recreate the Risky Business dance with me tonight
Me: Oh...er welp...have a good night
Dance4lyfe: Sooooo thats a definite no? Orrr should I prepare my tighty whities?
Me: I'm good. have fun.


I wasn't even offended by that one....I was intrigued. I also didn't think it would work out so well....since he resembled Tom Cruise in a very odd way, and I am not into short white men. Sorry I'm not Sorry


With that, I bid adieu to the insta-hookin' sites for a while. Worry not, I will give them a proper viking funeral...they were always flaming anyways.


Internet Dating: Transitioning
Fabulously Lost: Mourning the loss of a sometimes good friend
Grindr: RIP...2011-2012
High School Musical: ALWAYS an upper

Leap Day, Leap Frog, Leap of love?

Why hello there you saucy minxes! I have missed you all quite dearly and I apologize for my prolonged absence. I wish I could say it was because I fell madly in love and didn't have to write about my dating woes anymore, but mainly its because I was abruptly forced out of my little abode in Baltimore to move....(DUN DUN DUN) home with my parents. (You can gasp, judge, question my sanity, rinse and repeat) It is not a choice I made lightly, nor is it something that will be going on for a very long period of time. Since I had very little time to move (Due to craptastic landlord/housing/leasing issues) the only real option, without paying out the wazoo, would be to move home (rent free!) with the parents for a bit. (My new roomies have a beautiful house, require no rent, and keep a fully stocked fridge....so suck it Judgy-McJudgerson)


Enough of that jibber-jabber! It's LEAP Day! A-Top-O-the-Mornin' to you fellow leap day lovers! You may ask why I love leap day so much...its just an ordinary day, right? WRONG bitchesssss! It's an extra day in the year that only happens every 4years. The year I was born was a "leap year" which means I know people who were born on leap day! This is a vivid conversation I remember having with this girl Anne-Marie in 2000:

Anne-Marie: Hi Fabulous, wanna play Animorphs at lunch for my birthday?
(Yes....I used to pretend with my friends that we were the mystery solving group that used to morph into animals. Anne-Marie was always the dolphin cause she swam...this meant she'd flop around on the ground....we weren't very popular)
Me: SURE! I can't believe you are 12 today! Animorphs will be extra special today.
Anne-Marie: Technically I am actually 3 today
Me: What the WHAT?  hhahaha you can't be 3 silly. Oh Girlz!
Anne-Marie: Well I was born on Feb. 29th, which only exists every 4years, this is the 3rd year I've been alive that this day has come around...so I am technically 3. 
Me: *MIND BLOWN* I...I...this...whaaaaat...I...can't....words...uhhh....you look good for your age?

So  Happy 6th Birthday Anne-Marie (even though we haven't spoken since we were 12...) And a HAPPY LEAP DAY to you and your kin!

(If you don't watch 30 Rock...you should. Leap Dave Williams!!)

So many of you may be wondering how this whole moving in with the parents will change my dating life, and to be completely honest...I am wondering the same thing. It looks like we are going to have to work this out together and find the best possible solution. So I wanted to share with you what I have been doing in order to ensure a successful love life, whilst living with Mama and Poppa Fabulous. 

This past week or so has been dedicated to research. I have researched different dating websites, I have researched relationships results, and I have researched the crap out of my friends and families successful relationships. I decided that I needed to look more at what makes a successful relationship before I run off and try and find love so haphazardly. I also learned that doing all of the above makes me want to punch small children and cute animals in the face (this should come as a surprise, as I am someone who enjoys children and animals.) 

I also decided that I needed to update my profile a bit on OkCupid and maybe stop going on dates with guys from Grindr and the other wonderful "insta-date" sites.  Maybe its because of the winners I have been on dates with recently but I feel like maybe....JUST MAYBE...I might be going on dates with people in all the wrong places. How can you really tell if you are going to be attracted to someone or into them or whatever else from a series of random chats and photos sent back and forth (and not the dirrrrty kind, I mean face photos weirdos). I mean do they really think they know me? Are they going to be attracted to me? Will they have to learn to love me...or will it be natural and love at first site? Do I sometimes jump into a serious monogomous relationship with a person before we have gone on our first date, and I've already planned how we are going to introduce our polar opposite families to each other? Is that extreme? Is that why rejection stings so much? (yes. just yes to all of that.)

I was talking to my older brother the other day on the phone and he always asks about my dating life. Now, as I have mentioned before, he has been with the same person since he was 18 years old, which has taken him out of the dating game for quite sometime. He also happens to be one of the most competitive people I have met in my life before, which comes in handy since...ya know...he's LITERALLY a Jeopardy Champ. (Yes. He is 25. Lives in NYC. Has a successful relationship. Is going to be a lawyer. AND flippin' won a crap ton of money on Jeopardy. AND Yes I have a voodoo doll with his name on it. Seeee what that gets ya big spender! Rude.) Anywhoz, this is kinda how our convo went:

Older Bro: So are you going to make me ask? How are the men in your life?

(Ohhhh did I mention, he's also the most flippin' liberal person I know and likes to look out for the underdog. REALLY? REALLY? Good thing he is a sore loser otherwise I'd ask why I got stuck with the leftover genes.)

Me: HA! Thats cute. I'm kinda on a breather. I went on a bender...went on so many dates. I'm kinda tweaking right now cause I haven't had an awkward date moment in 5 days. I think I deserve a pin or something. 

Older Brother: Wow...so are you just giving up? That doesn't sound like a winner.

Me: Nahhh I'm not giving up...just doing research. I might do match.com, but it kinda costs a lot. 

Older Brother: How much is it? Stick with free

(We are both solid half-Jews who enjoy being as frugal as  possible. Our younger brother is the same way....I gladly accept that stereotype.)

Me: Its like frickin' $30 a month or something. 

AND this is where the competition comes in, the contest I didn't realize was going to happen:

Older Brother: That's a waste of money. Take that $30 and go up to four random people at the bar. Buy them drinks and try to get them to go on dates with you. BOOM. just saved you money. 

Me: Uhhh...it doesn't really work like that. That takes a lot of confidence and...er...also what if they reject you? 4 rejections just cost me $30 and probably an extra session at my therapist. Also....after the first rejection I would probably wallow in a pool of self pity and gin and tonics. 

Older Brother: Are you kidding? If they reject you...onto the next! Talk until you find one. I'll be your wing man...it's gonna happen. Next time you come up I'll find you one. 

Me: HA. HA. HA. I'm a homosexual, Older Brother. I don't think you realize that we work differently. We have groups and subgroups and we have rules.  So many rules. 

Older Brother: Fuck rules. Do you think I couldn't pick up guys at the bars? Don't you remember when we went to the showtunes bar? I got looks. I got a lot of looks. 

Me: That's not what I said....I just meant you couldn't get me a guy. It doesn't work like that

Older Brother: Is that a challenge?

Me: No I don't think I just challenged you. 

Older Brother: Sounds like a challenge. In fact I will UP it. Next time you come up we will both find guys and then in the cab on the way home...I'll hop out and then you can have both of them. You  don't have to sleep over my place. 

Me: That's nice of you...but I didn't challenge you. 

Older Brother: It's on like donkey kong. I'm a great brother. 

So my research began with my brother challenging himself to find me, not 1, but two men to go home with at the end of the night the next time I go to NY. The weird part is that I fear what will happen when I actually go up there...once he has put his mind to something, the man will do anything to complete a challenge. 

After this little nugget of odd confidence, I began answering some of the questions on OkCupid that are supposed to help you find your match. The issue with free sites is that they are poorly put together, and I'm fairly certain the creators tend to throw in joke questions.

Would you like to play Twister naked with a group of people?
(ummmm what? Now I guess I will know if the person I go on a date with enjoys orgy  childrens games?)
Gay Marriage- Should it be legal?
(sooo they obviously do not tailor the questions to the gays)
Would you date someone who was already in a committed relationship?
(Really Okcupid? Reaaaalllly?)
Would you rather climb and sit in a tree or sit on the ground?
(I'm baffled. I don't even know how to answer this or if they answer is truly that important....how will this find me love?)


That was actually the last question I answered when I realized I needed to join a more reputable site. I am in the process of paying for and signing up for match.com. This blog now has a whole overhaul ladies and gents. Match.com guarantees me true love after 6months (Or the next six months free...)


Today, when I get home from work I will be purchasing this package...because....well it's Leap Day, so nothing really counts because its a fake day. Right?

Internet Dating: Getting a Beyonce style  Upgrade

     

Fabulously Lost: Hopefully found in 6months
Older Brother: Constant creator of competition

Valentines Shmalentines

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?

(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. 

1. In silver and rhinestones above his mirror was the word "GORGEOUS". (It was probably the  most inaptly named sign I had ever seen...)
2. Everything had some sort of pink on it, whether it was bows or pink letters, or just straight up pink accessories. 
3. There was a Coach make-up bag filled with make-up on the counter. He lives alone. He owns a Coach. Make-Up, Bag.

I was over this whole thing so very fast and needed to escape. When I began to open the door I saw this tiny chihuahua out of the corner of my eye. I yelped and then it scurried out of the bathroom. Shivers went down my spine as Mighty Duck yelped,

"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?)

New York = Aggressive

This past weekend I had the pleasure of visiting my older brother up in the greatest city on earth, New York. Now for those of you who don't know me, I have a massive obsession with all things New York. It was born from my father's incessant bragging that no other state could compare, and no other city could really compare. I am horrific at United States geography because of this. My knowledge of the states was based off of a map like this one:

That being said, it is always a treat for me to go visit my family and friends up in New York, and I probably sound like an annoying child the week prior to visiting. 

Me: Soooo what are you doing this weekend? *snicker snicker*

All People: Uhh I don't know, probably drinking or something. What about you?

Me: IM GOING TO NEW YORK WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

All People: Oh cool, I'm sure you will have fun

Me: HA HA HA, Are you kidding? While you are drinking in bumblefuck, MD, I will be hob nobbing with celebrities and socialites. That's how its done in NY. 

All People: Cool...I guess you like it up there. 

Me: Who doesn't like the happiest place on earth?

All People: I thought the happiest place on earth was Disneyworld?

Me: Obviously you were mistaken. Check your facts, if you don't like New York you are a terrorist and a keeper of doom.

All People: I feel like that's a bit drastic...

Me: I didn't make up the rules, I just enforce them.

As you can see....I can be a bit dramatic about my love of the city. (Whaaaaat? YOU? Dramatic? PISH POSH!. Yup, I know its a shocker) I decided that I wanted to take this opportunity  in the city to flex my social networking skills and see what NY's dating world had to offer. I had added several of the GPS fueled dating apps to my phone and I was ready to go. My poor brother had no idea what he was getting into when he invited me up for the weekend.

To my complete and utter surprise, days before I went up, I got a gchat from my brother asking if I would be down to go to a gay show tunes bar in the Village. (I'm gonna repeat that sentence) Gay. Show tunes Bar. Village. AS if this was request I would ever turn down, I gladly accepted and told him to beware, my inner theatre diva would be joining me for the weekend. (Honestly, when isn't the diva present?) I loaded my bag with cologne, fancy underwear (which would probably only be seen by people if my bag flung open in Grand Central Station.), and lots of outfit changes. 

The bus trip up to NY was a nightmare. I met a drug addict mom who was tweaking on Vicodin (the only seat on the bus was next to her) and she spent the two hour journey to Philly telling every detail of her drug induced life. While this was going on the resident drug dealer on the bus was selling and buying Oxy.  I then had an hour layover in Philly. (Yes...buses have layovers. They have layovers in the grittiest parts of town.). The second half of the trip wasn't as bad but still cramped. This wasn't the amazing time I had been telling people I was going to have, but I am now well informed on the different types of Oxy (Heyyy Jealousy). 

Once I arrived in the city my different "dating" apps began to BLOW up. Messages from white, black, Asian, and Hispanic men began flooding my inbox. Now I can tell you that I received more views and comments while I was up there than I have in the entire month of January. Some highlights:

UWS Socialite: I see you are visiting from Baltimore? The best sites are in my bedroom...

I know NY very well, I don't think I have ever heard of you bedroom as a pit stop...

Captain: You're hot. Meet me at 90th and Amsterdam. There is a bar there, we can play in the basement.

1. Thank you. 2. My mother told me not to go in strange basements. 3. Was that reallly a pick up line?

2DAYS: Hey, I'm in the city two more days until I am deported...wanna make it worth my while? Help me complete my bucket list in Central Park. 

Uhhh....I think I'm good? And did you want to go ice skating in Central Park? What is on your bucket list? Being vague is unbecoming. 

I was obviously a popular guy up in NY, and despite the enormously creepy aggressiveness of the men on these sites, I felt pretty. (Yup, I said it....hypersexual innuendo made me feel pretty. I have three sessions with my therapist next week.) But it wasn't until we got to the gay show-tunes bar that I truly felt the power of my overwhelming attractiveness. (HAHAHAHAHAHA...I died typing that.)

We arrived at the bar and immediately got drinks and started singing Cabaret. Life. Was. Good. Sooo many men, mostly old ones, crowded around this tiny piano bar singing their hearts out. When it was my turn to buy the obnoxiously expensive round of drinks I was accosted at the bar by this older fellow in his 50s, who spun around and asked me several questions.

Oldie: Do you like show tunes? Isn't this bar great?

Me: I do like them, thats why I came! So great! *puzzled*

Oldie: I wish I were gay. I connect with them so well.

Me: I am gay....its pretty great. 

Oldie: I could tell, just call it a hunch.

(Ummmm...A HUNCH? You are in a homosexual bar singing show tunes. Everyone is a little gay. Also RUDE. I am not that gay....all the time.)

Me: Thanks?

Oldie: It's a compliment, me and the wife love the gays. 

I proceeded to walk away slowly and bring the drinks back to the group. As I stood there I began to make Eye Love to a guy sitting at the bar. We were smiling at each other and sort of winking and just being extremely coy. (I probably looked like I was having a seizure since I am a smooth criminal with facial motions) I literally moved my friend Jen to the other side of our circle in order to continue making our Eye Love. But then things got weird...really weird.  Oldie started calling my name from across the bar and requesting that I come meet my Eye Boyfriend. I panicked. How did they know each other? Why wasn't I paying attention before? 

Oldie: I wanted you to meet my friend, Eye Boyfriend. He said he noticed you, like I did! 

Me: Uhh you noticed me? And...Hello Eye Boyfriend.

Oldie: Now that you have met I'm going to my wife.

Me: Merp, uhhh, yup...heyyyy....

Eye Boyfriend: So do you come here often? I'm here most nights.

Me: Nope, just visiting from out of town. (wouldn't he have seen me if I had been here? Most nights)

Eye Boyfriend: Ah yes. Well that's quite lovely.

Me: Yup, do you live around here?

Eye Boyfriend: I live in Brook---OOOOOOOKLAHOMA 

At that point he stopped talking because the title song from Oklahoma came on and he needed to belt it in falsetto. He was off key, off pitch, off tune, off his rocker, and off my dating list. When the song ended, so did our brief romance. I told him I needed to see my friends. He responded in the creepiest way possible.

Eye Boyfriend: Find me at the end of the night. I have a place you can stay the night. Visitors welcome. 

I left New York with a slightly higher self-esteem and a bit more caution with which sites to add to my phone. The trip was a success and a good warning of the dating woes of the greatest city in the world. Can't wait to move there....a different world of mishaps!

Fabulously Lost: .5

Internet Dating: 10.5 (I dated many men that weekend)

Eye Love Making: Better left to the professionals

Musicals: Extremely Homosexual

New York: Aggressive and amazeballz