It has become more and more difficult to update my awkward blog now that I'm with someone and ridiculously happy. Happy people aren't funny. I'm still awkward, but its less funny now that someone thinks its charming enough to date it. However, even though I'm in a happy relationship, we still are not living in a universe where good things happen to me.
Allow me to elaborate.
On May 18, the love of my life got on a plane for a three-and-a-half month internship with a dance company in the US. It didn't bother me so much that he would be gone for three out of the nine months of our relationship, but more-so that he was going to be 600 miles away in a secluded mountain resort, surrounded by a bunch of fit, gay dancers. Its like fucking gay Christmas!
Now, we all know what happens when a bunch of gay people think its Spring Break. These are the things of my recent nightmares. I keep picturing my beautiful boyfriend in a pile of writhing naked abs with a big smile on his face.
The first month was the absolute worst month of my life. I didn't sleep through the night once and, even though we Skype'd every night, I would still read too much into every correspondence and start to think that he was already conspiring against me with his new sexier lovers. That bastard.
I also started to punish myself. I would think, if he were really in love with me and I was really as amazing as he says I am, then he would never have compromised our relationship in this way and he would do anything he could to stay in my life.
It took a lot of talking through this brain-shit for me to understand that Cam also has to think of his future and his dreams of pursuing a professional dance career. That his decision to leave for the summer had nothing to do with me, other than the fact that he has total faith that our relationship is strong enough to survive. I suppose this is a really great way to test just how strong we are and just how supportive I am willing to be.
I'd like to say that I am totally over this panicky, crazy-pants phase, but I think it's going to continue to come in waves until my man comes back. I sleep through the night now, but I still have to breathe into a paper bag when he takes too long to email me back and I have to keep myself from setting his things on fire when he cancels our Skype dates. It's getting better.
His being away did give me an excuse to visit him in the mountains and the ability to tell the following story:
I flew into the Boston airport from Buffalo on a 45 minute flight with about six other passengers. I waited at the baggage claim as each of them excitedly grabbed their bags and headed out to continue living their fairy tale lives. I continued to wait while the room emptied and it became abundantly clear that my bags were not coming out of the little hole. I didn't get mad because I knew that with my luck, this was bound to happen. It couldn't be just a quick, hassle-free trip. I stayed as polite as could be, even when the douche-bag at the lost baggage office didn't apologize and even hinted that this might have been my fault. I knew that getting mad wouldn't help anything.
I kept my cool when the 24 hour wait time became a 48 hour wait time and the totally unhelpful bitch-asses that kept putting me on hold (for a total of three hours of peak roaming time on my Canadian cell phone) continued to locate and then lose my luggage over and over again. When the whole "keeping-my-cool" thing was clearly not working to my advantage, I got really aggravated and became what we in the customer service industry refer to as "a total asshole." I had my bag back within two hours.
In celebration of finally possessing my luggage, Cam and I decided to go on a relaxing swim in a mountain quarry. The water was unbelievably cold, and took me a very long time to finally get in the water. When Cam suggested that we race to the other end of the quarry, I thought, I'm probably going to win because I am an excellent swimmer and a trained life-guard.
I did not win.
At some point during the trip (probably at around the time I told the lady at the Boston airport she was "a useless waste of payroll") I must have forgotten the fact that a couple of months ago my chest collapsed and didn't take into account that maybe my body works a little different now than it did three years ago when I worked at the public pools.
Needless to say when my legs and arms suddenly stopped working and I began to sink, I went into shock. Luckily Cam was there and saved my life by swimming into me and pinning me against the sheer rock wall until an onlooker swam a flotation device over to us. After I stopped puking and my arms and legs began to respond, we both had a good cry and headed back to the hotel.
After my near death experience, we desperately needed to unwind, so we took advantage of the remaining daylight and sat by the pool (though didn't dare to even touch the water...I don't think either of us will ever swim again). We sat out all afternoon, reading some good books and enjoying each other's company.
When we felt we had soaked up enough sun, we went back to our room for some sex. We realized within a few minutes of touching each other that sex was NOT in the cards for our last night together. We had, without realizing it, absolutely COOKED ourselves. We were LOBSTERS. The only touching we could handle was anointing each other's blistering bodies with aloe and After Burn.
Even though I had to wear the same clothes for two days, almost drown in a mountain quarry, ended up with second degree burns on all but one part of my body, waited at the airport all night for my delayed flight and ended up with a $400 phone bill, it was worth it to see my wonderful, faithful, driven, talented boyfriend and I cannot wait for our do-over this coming weekend.
I think it is safe to say that the remaining month and a half will fly by and we will appreciate each other that much more when he is finally home. I am able to trust him wholeheartedly because he is an amazing guy. It also helps that he is one of the only two gay dancers at the compound and the other one has a lazy eye.
We'll be just fine.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Hottie on the Subway
I had a bit of a passive aggressive fight with my boyfriend tonight (which I am completely responsible for but still feel totally justified) so I quietly and slowly stormed out of his apartment and got on a subway that would take me home to dwell on our mutual future and why our relationship is a sham and why he is the worst guy for me ever and how I don't need him and his insensitivity anyway, when something a little life-changing happens. A hot guy enters my train. I'm sure everyone has seen a hot guy on a subway before. I mean, beautiful people need to pay too much to travel three blocks at a moderate speed too, right?
But not everyone has seen this guy.
He had wavy, dark brown hair, a little overgrown from what must have originally been a sexy haircut but because he's so beautiful it looked amazing anyway, paired with some light blue eyes. Dark hair paired with light eyes is a deadly combination regardless, but add some pouty lips, long eyelashes and a not-too-out-of-season tan and what you get is a scenario I never thought I'd be privy to witness anywhere but on a sitcom. Everyone, including myself, puts their lives completely on hold to take in his magnificence. And I mean everyone. The two teenage girls sitting across from me even take a picture with an iPhone. I would have too if I werent too afraid that my phone would make an embarassing, telltale sound. The old lady next to me simply stared and the young woman by the door stopped mid conversation with her friend to bring this sexy stranger to her attention.
The craziest thing is that he wasn't exactly textbook hot. He wouldn't be considered for a magazine spread or a guest spot on 90210. He was just naturally and effortlessly beautiful.
It is now my goal to try as hard as I can and have as much surgery as is necessary to look naturally and effortlessly hot enough to cause that much drama on a subway. If God's not willing to help me out with flawless genes, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands.
Love.
But not everyone has seen this guy.
He had wavy, dark brown hair, a little overgrown from what must have originally been a sexy haircut but because he's so beautiful it looked amazing anyway, paired with some light blue eyes. Dark hair paired with light eyes is a deadly combination regardless, but add some pouty lips, long eyelashes and a not-too-out-of-season tan and what you get is a scenario I never thought I'd be privy to witness anywhere but on a sitcom. Everyone, including myself, puts their lives completely on hold to take in his magnificence. And I mean everyone. The two teenage girls sitting across from me even take a picture with an iPhone. I would have too if I werent too afraid that my phone would make an embarassing, telltale sound. The old lady next to me simply stared and the young woman by the door stopped mid conversation with her friend to bring this sexy stranger to her attention.
The craziest thing is that he wasn't exactly textbook hot. He wouldn't be considered for a magazine spread or a guest spot on 90210. He was just naturally and effortlessly beautiful.
It is now my goal to try as hard as I can and have as much surgery as is necessary to look naturally and effortlessly hot enough to cause that much drama on a subway. If God's not willing to help me out with flawless genes, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands.
Love.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Real life.
So Cam and I have been together for a week!
I mean that literally. We have LITERALLY been together for a week. I sleep at his place, he at mine. We have our meals together we brush our teeth together we take the subway together. Because we're in the same show, we see each other at work (though its mostly brief encounters in passing while we're ripping one costume off and throwing on another in six seconds).
The only time we weren't together this week was for about four hours while I was re-dubbing some audio for a short film I shot.
I'm pretty amazed that we're not at all sick of each other. Usually, I start having murderous rage blackouts if I spend more than five hours with the same person, but I just can't get enough of Cam. He is just so entertaining and awesome (he says the same of me...*blush*).
Not to mention the toned, tan body and amazing make-out ability.
But I fear a dark day has dawned...
(Whoa drama)
The show has closed, so we won't see each other every night of the week and he has just gotten on a bus to Montreal for a week to work with a modern dance company...full of hot, gay dancers who are probably way more fit and flexible than me.
I know...its just a week, right? WRONG!!
He gets back on Sunday and I go in for some MAJOR SCARY BLOODY SURGERY on Wednesday. I'll be in the hospital for a week and then recovering at my parents' house two hours away for another week.
I feel a little ripped off. The timing has been bad from the start. Just when we finish the show and begin the process of proving that our amazing relationship is not a showmance, he leaves for a week and I leave for another two.
Text messages can only get so hot before you get bored (or they get super awkward).
We have agreed to constantly call and text each other. He's been texting me from the bus for the past couple of hours about how sore his ass is from sitting for so long.
Yeah...we're already at that point...
I'm going to watch something Disney and eat some cookies and then go to bed. Alone. For the first time this week.
I mean that literally. We have LITERALLY been together for a week. I sleep at his place, he at mine. We have our meals together we brush our teeth together we take the subway together. Because we're in the same show, we see each other at work (though its mostly brief encounters in passing while we're ripping one costume off and throwing on another in six seconds).
The only time we weren't together this week was for about four hours while I was re-dubbing some audio for a short film I shot.
I'm pretty amazed that we're not at all sick of each other. Usually, I start having murderous rage blackouts if I spend more than five hours with the same person, but I just can't get enough of Cam. He is just so entertaining and awesome (he says the same of me...*blush*).
Not to mention the toned, tan body and amazing make-out ability.
But I fear a dark day has dawned...
(Whoa drama)
The show has closed, so we won't see each other every night of the week and he has just gotten on a bus to Montreal for a week to work with a modern dance company...full of hot, gay dancers who are probably way more fit and flexible than me.
I know...its just a week, right? WRONG!!
He gets back on Sunday and I go in for some MAJOR SCARY BLOODY SURGERY on Wednesday. I'll be in the hospital for a week and then recovering at my parents' house two hours away for another week.
I feel a little ripped off. The timing has been bad from the start. Just when we finish the show and begin the process of proving that our amazing relationship is not a showmance, he leaves for a week and I leave for another two.
Text messages can only get so hot before you get bored (or they get super awkward).
We have agreed to constantly call and text each other. He's been texting me from the bus for the past couple of hours about how sore his ass is from sitting for so long.
Yeah...we're already at that point...
I'm going to watch something Disney and eat some cookies and then go to bed. Alone. For the first time this week.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
A Surprising Update
Okay internet, some surprising news.
After totally giving up on Cam and ending the backstage flirting, I am now dating him.
Yep. Here's what went down.
After expressing my concern that the constant backstage flirting may lead to me being locked up in a crazy-house for stalkers and cutters, Cam and I held to our promise not to flirt with each other. For about twelve minutes.
In fact, it got worse.
He finally told me that he was in a very awkward position. He had only been dating his boyfriend for a couple of weeks when we met and regretted that he rushed into things with him. We came to terms with the fact that though we both have feelings for each other, that it would be mature and honorable to keep these feelings at bay until the circumstances allow us to express them further.
We implemented a strict "no touching" rule. Even when I missed a train home and had to sleep at his place. No touching!
Eventually, I told him that he is going to have to break someone's heart if he wants to be happy and that I am prepared to back off if he decides its me. I'm super impressed with my selflessness at this point (I needed to earn some extra karma points, badly).
He broke up with his boyfriend. (**insert girl squealing noise**)
We're not committing to anything super official at this point. We're both conscious of the 'showmance' curse and don't want to end up hurt in the end. I hope I`m doing the right thing...
After totally giving up on Cam and ending the backstage flirting, I am now dating him.
Yep. Here's what went down.
After expressing my concern that the constant backstage flirting may lead to me being locked up in a crazy-house for stalkers and cutters, Cam and I held to our promise not to flirt with each other. For about twelve minutes.
In fact, it got worse.
He finally told me that he was in a very awkward position. He had only been dating his boyfriend for a couple of weeks when we met and regretted that he rushed into things with him. We came to terms with the fact that though we both have feelings for each other, that it would be mature and honorable to keep these feelings at bay until the circumstances allow us to express them further.
We implemented a strict "no touching" rule. Even when I missed a train home and had to sleep at his place. No touching!
Eventually, I told him that he is going to have to break someone's heart if he wants to be happy and that I am prepared to back off if he decides its me. I'm super impressed with my selflessness at this point (I needed to earn some extra karma points, badly).
He broke up with his boyfriend. (**insert girl squealing noise**)
We're not committing to anything super official at this point. We're both conscious of the 'showmance' curse and don't want to end up hurt in the end. I hope I`m doing the right thing...
Thursday, January 13, 2011
All the good ones are taken...
Dear internet,
I haven't posted in a while because I've been working on an epic failure for the past few weeks. This is going to be a long one. Here we go.
I am currently dancing in a show downtown. I use the term "dancing" loosely. I mostly walk to tempo. In any case, I started the show late and had to put in extra rehearsals to get caught up. I was to meet with the choreographer outside of rehearsal time for one-on-one sessions so I didn't show up not knowing anything and pissing everyone off.
On my first day with the show, I walk into the studio and am greeted by the choreographer, a short, dancer-type woman in a lot of layers and jazz pants and the dance captain, a tall, lean dancer in baggy sweatpants, over-sized wool socks and a hilarious graphic T. Let's call this guy Cam. I learn early on that Cam is there to be my "girl" in all the partnered choreography. I know I am in trouble as soon as we start the first tango.
I can't help but be a little attracted to how confident he is. From what I've noticed, when a guy is a little effeminate, they tend to apologize for their behavior by either putting on the gayest show they can perform or lack confidence all together. Not Cam. He knows who he is and if you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself. I was smitten.
In the rehearsals that followed, we started to connect. Not only would we sit together during the extensive notes sessions we received daily, but we would take breaks together, doing adorable things like read classic novels in the lobby together, while everyone else went for food. At one point, after receiving direction to not hold hands with our partner during a particular scene in the show, Cam expressed his dislike for the idea by holding my hand. For a solid two minutes. In front of everyone.
Now, maybe I was being pathetic and my wishful thinking combined with an overactive imagination distorted what might be innocent friendliness into steady flirtation, but I kinda fell for it.
Hard.
I learned from a friend, who is also in the show, that Cam was seeing someone and though it's not too serious, another guy exists. So, I did what any awkward guy in this situation would do, and brought it up to Cam. He pretended to not hear the part about his boyfriend and quickly changed the subject.
It starts to get weird.
My birthday arrives and I have to spend it in rehearsal. Though Cam occupies most of my time, I have managed to make other friends and coerced them into taking me out. It became a bit of an event and people were pretty excited for an excuse to be with each other outside the stress and sweat of rehearsal. Cam doesn't show for my party and the next day pretends that he had no idea that it was my birthday (though the cast sang the birthday song to me in three part harmony...it was beautiful).
I kinda get the message. I saw the movie. He's just not that into me!
Because I'm so mature and emotionally stable, I totally ignore him for a day. This, of course, drives him fucking nuts and I can tell he's dying for my attention. I finally give the poor guy a break and start a really nonchalant conversation about the weather or kittens or something, when another cast member says, "Oh, thank God. Cam was bitching all night about how you've been ignoring him."
WHAT!?
Only someone with romantic feelings would care, right?
RIGHT!!??
As the days go on, the flirting turns to hot touching and even spooning on a prop bed (much to the chagrin of the stage manager). He even takes me (and only me) out for dinner where we talk and connect like soul mates.
Then comes the breaking point.
He says to me in a casual way, "Why aren't we dating?" To which I respond, "Because you have a boyfriend." Without hesitation he says, "Well that can easily be taken care of."
At this point I've had enough. History tells me that I am about to fall into crazy love with Cam and start thinking about our grandchildren. I can't let this happen. So I decide to just nip this critter in the bud before I start carving his name in my arm and smelling his soiled socks.
To shorten this already too long post, I'll simply finish in bullet points.
- I tell Cam that the flirting should probably stop because I have a tendency to get hurt in these situations.
- He apologizes and then gives me an oh-so-friendly reminder of his boyfriend who he is in love with and would never hurt.
- To make me feel better about myself he offers, "If I wasn't seeing someone, I'd be all over you."
- I'm like....you were! Piece of shit.
- Now things are awkward and I have no one to cuddle backstage (except that weird girl who thinks she's a gay man and touches us inappropriately).
I hope I did the right thing by ending my suffering quickly. I know honesty is the best policy but I feel like I've just been broken up with. Why am I crazy?
One day I hope someone is as into me and I am them.
I haven't posted in a while because I've been working on an epic failure for the past few weeks. This is going to be a long one. Here we go.
I am currently dancing in a show downtown. I use the term "dancing" loosely. I mostly walk to tempo. In any case, I started the show late and had to put in extra rehearsals to get caught up. I was to meet with the choreographer outside of rehearsal time for one-on-one sessions so I didn't show up not knowing anything and pissing everyone off.
On my first day with the show, I walk into the studio and am greeted by the choreographer, a short, dancer-type woman in a lot of layers and jazz pants and the dance captain, a tall, lean dancer in baggy sweatpants, over-sized wool socks and a hilarious graphic T. Let's call this guy Cam. I learn early on that Cam is there to be my "girl" in all the partnered choreography. I know I am in trouble as soon as we start the first tango.
I can't help but be a little attracted to how confident he is. From what I've noticed, when a guy is a little effeminate, they tend to apologize for their behavior by either putting on the gayest show they can perform or lack confidence all together. Not Cam. He knows who he is and if you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself. I was smitten.
In the rehearsals that followed, we started to connect. Not only would we sit together during the extensive notes sessions we received daily, but we would take breaks together, doing adorable things like read classic novels in the lobby together, while everyone else went for food. At one point, after receiving direction to not hold hands with our partner during a particular scene in the show, Cam expressed his dislike for the idea by holding my hand. For a solid two minutes. In front of everyone.
Now, maybe I was being pathetic and my wishful thinking combined with an overactive imagination distorted what might be innocent friendliness into steady flirtation, but I kinda fell for it.
Hard.
I learned from a friend, who is also in the show, that Cam was seeing someone and though it's not too serious, another guy exists. So, I did what any awkward guy in this situation would do, and brought it up to Cam. He pretended to not hear the part about his boyfriend and quickly changed the subject.
It starts to get weird.
My birthday arrives and I have to spend it in rehearsal. Though Cam occupies most of my time, I have managed to make other friends and coerced them into taking me out. It became a bit of an event and people were pretty excited for an excuse to be with each other outside the stress and sweat of rehearsal. Cam doesn't show for my party and the next day pretends that he had no idea that it was my birthday (though the cast sang the birthday song to me in three part harmony...it was beautiful).
I kinda get the message. I saw the movie. He's just not that into me!
Because I'm so mature and emotionally stable, I totally ignore him for a day. This, of course, drives him fucking nuts and I can tell he's dying for my attention. I finally give the poor guy a break and start a really nonchalant conversation about the weather or kittens or something, when another cast member says, "Oh, thank God. Cam was bitching all night about how you've been ignoring him."
WHAT!?
Only someone with romantic feelings would care, right?
RIGHT!!??
As the days go on, the flirting turns to hot touching and even spooning on a prop bed (much to the chagrin of the stage manager). He even takes me (and only me) out for dinner where we talk and connect like soul mates.
Then comes the breaking point.
He says to me in a casual way, "Why aren't we dating?" To which I respond, "Because you have a boyfriend." Without hesitation he says, "Well that can easily be taken care of."
At this point I've had enough. History tells me that I am about to fall into crazy love with Cam and start thinking about our grandchildren. I can't let this happen. So I decide to just nip this critter in the bud before I start carving his name in my arm and smelling his soiled socks.
To shorten this already too long post, I'll simply finish in bullet points.
- I tell Cam that the flirting should probably stop because I have a tendency to get hurt in these situations.
- He apologizes and then gives me an oh-so-friendly reminder of his boyfriend who he is in love with and would never hurt.
- To make me feel better about myself he offers, "If I wasn't seeing someone, I'd be all over you."
- I'm like....you were! Piece of shit.
- Now things are awkward and I have no one to cuddle backstage (except that weird girl who thinks she's a gay man and touches us inappropriately).
I hope I did the right thing by ending my suffering quickly. I know honesty is the best policy but I feel like I've just been broken up with. Why am I crazy?
One day I hope someone is as into me and I am them.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Ugh. Only me.
I am an actor so, naturally, I work in retail to, you know, pay bills and survive. Christmas is both the best and worst time of the year for me. It is the best because it's Christmas and that is always a good time but it is also the worst because apparently Christmas fills people with rage and they take that rage out on the guy who folds hoodies for eight hours a day. That guy is me.
The other day, I decided to bravely venture to the crowded food court to eat some lunch. By some act of God I found a vacant seat and sat down. I'm not two bites into my Chubby Chicken sandwich (A&W, please come up with a better name for your chicken) when I notice the Hottness is sitting at a table across from me. This young man has a remarkably sensible haircut and is wearing a tie. I always welcome ties.
We make eye contact.
The contact of eyes continues for longer than a mistake.
What happens next has me gasping for air. He walks over to my table and sits. Do things like this still happen? Do people randomly meet in food courts? And do people have the nerve to actually make a move?
I'm already planning our gay wedding by the time he is sitting. I smile. He smiles back. ADORABLE.
Then he reaches into his bag (probably to grab his mother's engagement ring because he is certain I am the one he has been searching for) and pulls out a black book and some pamphlets.
Thankfully, I now know a lot more about the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
Ugh. Real life.
The other day, I decided to bravely venture to the crowded food court to eat some lunch. By some act of God I found a vacant seat and sat down. I'm not two bites into my Chubby Chicken sandwich (A&W, please come up with a better name for your chicken) when I notice the Hottness is sitting at a table across from me. This young man has a remarkably sensible haircut and is wearing a tie. I always welcome ties.
We make eye contact.
The contact of eyes continues for longer than a mistake.
What happens next has me gasping for air. He walks over to my table and sits. Do things like this still happen? Do people randomly meet in food courts? And do people have the nerve to actually make a move?
I'm already planning our gay wedding by the time he is sitting. I smile. He smiles back. ADORABLE.
Then he reaches into his bag (probably to grab his mother's engagement ring because he is certain I am the one he has been searching for) and pulls out a black book and some pamphlets.
Thankfully, I now know a lot more about the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
Ugh. Real life.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Porn guy.
This particular story takes place about a month ago.
I will start off by saying, I have really beautiful friends. I know a lot of people think they are the "ugly friend" when in reality, they're just as good looking as their friends and they're just crazy and have low self-esteem and cry themselves to sleep.
This isn't the case with me. My friends are kinda ridiculous. They're so good-looking that people have to do a double-take because its a little overwhelming having that many beautiful people collide with your life all at once. I'm not saying I am ugly, but I am the ugly friend in this scenario. Don't try to make me feel better, I've dealt with it. I'm fine.
On one of our outings (usually to a bar in the Village) one of my friends (not really THAT beautiful and he's not really a friend) announces that his horrible and socially awkward roommate will be joining us. He invited Awkwardo because he felt bad that no one likes him and he had no plans for the weekend. We collectively sighed and resigned ourselves to play host to someone who would probably cramp our style (more than I usually do - you just can't have more than one awkward gay in your group before everyone is awkward and sexless).
Suddenly, in the middle of a conversation about something beautiful gay people talk about (and I listen to), the door to the bar opens. I'm pretty sure his entrance happens in slow motion to a sick beat and through a cloud of smoke, but even if it didn't, the effect was the same. Soon, we are all introduced to the awkward roommate, Dan, who isn't awkward at all but rather one of the cutest, nicest, most charming men I've ever met.
As the night progresses, we end up at the not-as-beautiful, not-really-a-friend's apartment. It's the end of the night and time for people to pair off. It's the usual pairs, so there's no drama. Because I live out of town, my friends share the duty of letting me sleep on their couches and this night I am to stay with not-as-beautiful and now, his just-as-beautiful roommate, Dan.
Here's where the story gets interesting.
As everyone is leaving, in pairs, Dan says, "Too bad I don't have anyone to cuddle with tonight." I am clearly the only other person not in a pair. Do I get the message? Not yet.
It get's better.
After everyone leaves, Dan and I are left alone in the living room. Without anything to really talk about, I comment on his amazing 5601 inch plasma flat screen. He responds with, "Have you ever watched porn on a big screen and in high definition?"
I hadn't.
He let's me choose the DVD. It's something about cowboys or guys in jeans or something. In any case, we watch two hours of gay guys pretending to be straight guys who like to have sex with other gay guys pretending to be straight guys. It might as well have been Titanic. Dan and I literally WATCH the porn. Sitting next to each other, innocent as lambs. Then go to bed. Separately.
I realize now that he was dropping enough hints that Helen Keller could have seen the signs and had the night of her life, but me, being the most awkward gay on the planet, slept peacefully on the couch with images of straight gay guys in tight jeans running through my head. In high definition.
I will start off by saying, I have really beautiful friends. I know a lot of people think they are the "ugly friend" when in reality, they're just as good looking as their friends and they're just crazy and have low self-esteem and cry themselves to sleep.
This isn't the case with me. My friends are kinda ridiculous. They're so good-looking that people have to do a double-take because its a little overwhelming having that many beautiful people collide with your life all at once. I'm not saying I am ugly, but I am the ugly friend in this scenario. Don't try to make me feel better, I've dealt with it. I'm fine.
On one of our outings (usually to a bar in the Village) one of my friends (not really THAT beautiful and he's not really a friend) announces that his horrible and socially awkward roommate will be joining us. He invited Awkwardo because he felt bad that no one likes him and he had no plans for the weekend. We collectively sighed and resigned ourselves to play host to someone who would probably cramp our style (more than I usually do - you just can't have more than one awkward gay in your group before everyone is awkward and sexless).
Suddenly, in the middle of a conversation about something beautiful gay people talk about (and I listen to), the door to the bar opens. I'm pretty sure his entrance happens in slow motion to a sick beat and through a cloud of smoke, but even if it didn't, the effect was the same. Soon, we are all introduced to the awkward roommate, Dan, who isn't awkward at all but rather one of the cutest, nicest, most charming men I've ever met.
As the night progresses, we end up at the not-as-beautiful, not-really-a-friend's apartment. It's the end of the night and time for people to pair off. It's the usual pairs, so there's no drama. Because I live out of town, my friends share the duty of letting me sleep on their couches and this night I am to stay with not-as-beautiful and now, his just-as-beautiful roommate, Dan.
Here's where the story gets interesting.
As everyone is leaving, in pairs, Dan says, "Too bad I don't have anyone to cuddle with tonight." I am clearly the only other person not in a pair. Do I get the message? Not yet.
It get's better.
After everyone leaves, Dan and I are left alone in the living room. Without anything to really talk about, I comment on his amazing 5601 inch plasma flat screen. He responds with, "Have you ever watched porn on a big screen and in high definition?"
I hadn't.
He let's me choose the DVD. It's something about cowboys or guys in jeans or something. In any case, we watch two hours of gay guys pretending to be straight guys who like to have sex with other gay guys pretending to be straight guys. It might as well have been Titanic. Dan and I literally WATCH the porn. Sitting next to each other, innocent as lambs. Then go to bed. Separately.
I realize now that he was dropping enough hints that Helen Keller could have seen the signs and had the night of her life, but me, being the most awkward gay on the planet, slept peacefully on the couch with images of straight gay guys in tight jeans running through my head. In high definition.
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