Long Stretch

4 weeks later I got one nibble at FindFred. From a guy with no picture. Frustrating. He did say I was handsome, but he wants to know where in Manhattan I live. As IF, buddy. Can you take me out to dinner, verbally, first? I've had some others look at my profile, but I don't feel the impulse to leap.

It's all so strange. And defining. And humbling. Because I find that I'm a shallow prick. Yes, now's the time to realize that my snooty perceptions of love have been a lie I told myself. Because clearly to me, looks matter. When it came to women, I guess I was more open because it wasn't the promise or lure of sex drawing me in. I wanted to be friends, always. I wanted to laugh and talk and share. I wanted what most other girls want from their girlfriends. But I didn't want what a "man" wants.

Now, I do. This "man" wants to close the circuit between what he sees and what he feels. As most men do. What I don't know is how that works across the spectrum with straight men. Obviously there are the superstar gorgeous creatures in the media. Straight guys get to look but not touch. So when they go into the obtainable, are they "settling"? Or are they more mature than I've gotten the chance to be, and they realize beauty is where you find it? They love the skinny, the full-figured, the short, the tall, the slightly-off proportioned. They love without the trappings of Hollywood and the lie of beauty.

So why can't I? Why does it have to be muscles? Why do I have to learn these things so late in my life? I'm almost freakin' 50 years old.

And the inverse of that question is, why can't I have muscles? It's what 'trips my trigger' as a happy man once said to me. Why am I going to take on the stigma of being gay if I don't get to enjoy it on some level? Instead of an unfulfilling sexual relationship, I'd rather do nothing -- like I've been doing for 46 years, minus pre-sexual awakening.

Damn. What a sad freakin' life I've had. In this area--and that other area about having parents. But hey. I'm not the only one. And I do good things elsewhere. I'm not a TOTAL waste of protoplasm.

Maybe the FindFred guy will put up pics and be Jason Statham. And maybe I'll wake up tomorrow morning and be straight. Haha.

The One I Haven't Blogged About

So there's this gay comic fan and podcaster who I've gone out with a few times, just me and him. And it isn't Former Pastor, although he and this guy were friends way before I slipped into the cypher. They may even have History. I once saw a frustrated knowing glance that Former Pastor shared with a gay third-party about the guy in question. But Former Pastor moved back home down south. He ain't here no more.

Now. Let's call the guy in question "Eligible." Because, you know actually, he is. And each time we've met up for a movie, there's been ... You know. A Thing. Attraction. Or not an attraction actually, but more like our radars pinging off one another. It's like we're sizing each other up. No pun intended.

He's the kind of gay that I can see myself being. Folks know but it's just understood, not bandied about. Eligible's conversation is about Eco-friendly conservationism and comic books and civic awareness and his interests and stuff. No massive declarations or drawing of lines in the sand. The only reason to believe he's gay is because his co-host throws out a joke about it every once in a while and he'll great-humoredly catch the lob. In fact, his contribution actually dignifies his co-host's ham-handed attempts at the "gee isn't it fun to make fun of teh gay?"-humor. Think 'The Odd Couple' except Felix is gay and Oscar is a bartender who loves comics and fame.

So knowing Eligible was this bachelor, gay, subtle guy, I fired my retroes and allowed my craft to dip into his planetary orbit. When I went to my first social party (whereupon I denied my sexuality, posted pictures here at the blog, and tried living a life that I'm not destined for), it was Eligible's cool-ass Harlem pad w/a backyard hosting the party. And when the Geeks of New York would gather for events, I would hope he'd show up--glad and gravitating himward when he did.

And because he has shared many a kee-kee with me as we'd huddle in our theatre seats, I think he digs me too. It's like we're both waiting for the right signal from each other.

Except I have one thing (okay, LOTS of things) holding me back. He doesn't look like this;


Except he kind of does have that round head with receding hairline that I like. And he's a slim guy, but he said he's not packin' a sixpack under those urban casual clothes of his. (Yes I HAVE asked. I toldja ... the radar be pingin'!)

So. Here's the thing. To try a relationship with him would mean two very major MAJOR things.

1) Houston we have liftoff. Dude is a public geek figure. I arrive somewhere on his arm, or he on mine, and it's DONE. No turning back. Alan. Is. Teh. GAY. And ERRRRRRRBODY gunna know it.

2) He might never have that sexy-sexy that I crave. If I'm going to DO this, I want it to be GOOD. I want it "all." And if there's an abundance of anything, it's muscly gay men. Don't believe me, just walk along 23rd St in Chelsea for a few avenues. How that happened, I don't know, but Chelsea has become Teh Beefy Gay District. WOOF!

I got distracted.

Anyway, I want one of those. Eligible is eligible, pleasant, intelligent, successful generous, erudite, and a geek. He has a lot of qualities I like. But he doesn't stoke the fire. I find that with him, I'm just curious. I would share a kiss with him, if only to see what it's like to kiss an actual guy.

So yeah. That happened. If anything comes of it (the puns refuse to stop) I'll be sure to blog it.

I Talk A Good Game

But when it comes to rubber y road, I'm crap.

So I keep getting emails from frickin "FINDFRED" which happens because I went over there and started a profile. But stopped. Because. I'm crap.

But today I thought, no. Let me look around. BUT!! In order to look around, I had to frickin' finish the profile. So okay. Bastards.

So I started. I'm in fact in the middle of it now.

And SHIT! This effing thing is going all out!! It's asking nice questions like you would find on Match.Com, and then it asks stuff like what sex position I like, what is my ... size, what size do I WANT, what's my favorite bodypart, what's my BEST bodypart ... and I'm like HOLY CRAP. This thing is talking to me like I'm gay!!

And the voice in my head answered back "Well isn't that what you've been telling everybody?"

And I'm like "NO! I haven't been telling EVERYBODY...!!"

And the voice says, "Well either shit or get the fuck off the pot Nancy-Boy."

And then I literally want to break down in tears. Because FUCK YOU that's why!!! This is fucking fuck fuck HARD!! MOTHERFUCCCCCKKKERRR.

Dammit. I hate this. I'm lonely and scared and this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like I can never EVER share this. Nobody wants to know this shit. What's MY size? What do I like???

How the hell do you answer something like that?

I hate this.

I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life.

It's not fair.

FUCK. YOU. KEVIN. You perverted criminal son of a bitch. I would kill you right now if I could. I would kill you.