Recently in Dating Category

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This is one of my favorite poems so I decided to repost it. How many times have we let someone get away with treating us not as good as we deserve to be just because they look good or we think that we're not on their level and are in a sense grateful for being in their presence, as though we aren't good enough. It doesn't even have to be looks that make you stay, it could be about the way he makes you feel or the sex or a combination of the three. What's even worse is when we know it's true and we try to rationalize the shit.

Enjoy.

Originally posted on November 10, 2007 11:12 AM
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If He Was Ugly
by Adam Benjamin Irby

If he was ugly...
Would you let him do the things he do?
Would you let him say what he say to you?
Or act the way he acted,
If you weren't so attracted.
And forgive so automatic.
And live life so tragic.
The longing for better days, you trade,
Your sense, you're like an addict.
Why's he such a prize,
Just a sight for sore eyes.
Telling yourself lies,
Under the guise of compromise.
Disdain in your brain,
Numb like Novocaine.
You fold in your pain, like a collar stain,
On a white collared Polo rugby.
Would you treat him so lovely,
If you didn't think you were so ugly?

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Playing In The Background...
"Why You Gotta Look So Good?" feat. Lloyd Banks
by Mya
from the album "Moodring"
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This a series of posts that I've been thinking long and hard about writing. I've been so deep in thought about it because I'd be stating my honest opinion, mostly venting about shit that gets on my motherfuckin' natural black nerves and I fully know and realize going in, unlike most times where I don't know and realize going in that I'm gonna offend someone. But, fuck it (not butt fuck it LOL), it's my blog. I'ma say what I want, whoever doesn't like it doesn't have to read it. Shit, that's what the "comments" section is for. I gotta let some stuff out and I may even educate or inform someone in the process. This thought process is actually the birth of a series of posts that I've titled: "Adam's Opinion On..."

-Adam
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Today's Subject: Closeted Gay Men

I'm gay. I'm gay and damn proud of it and wouldn't change it for all the tea in China. One of the things I love most about myself is my great sense of self-acceptance. I love me, all of me, even the stuff that gets on my nerves sometimes, and whatever things about me that get on my nerves I'm not so much looking to change, but to improve for the sake of the overall me, to make me a better me, more efficient me. So the words "I wish I weren't gay" would never escape my lips, gay is a part of me. I love being gay. I love everything about it, even the stuff you don't like, because in it's own little way it's helped to shape me into the lovely me that you see before you today. On my worst gay day the last thing I would ever wanna be is straight (and I'm sure straights feel the same way, they should). With that said these homos running around here wishing that they weren't gay get on my last nerve.

Closeted men. How tired is that? Knowing full well that your ass is gay, fucking asses and taking dicks, but then when asked you lie and say you're not gay. That's so tired. So what, you like dick, don't be a fuckin' pussy about it! It's not just tired, it's sad, to continually deny who you are over and over again must kill you a little more inside each time you do it. I could see it if you were young and still living at home or it was to save your job or if you were in immediate danger or something like that and even those non-ideal situations the people in them don't want to be in them and are trying to make their way out if at all possible. Who wouldn't wanna live their lives in total freedom? Who wants to live in secret? To straight up lie, just for the sake of acceptance is just crazy to me.

Just so that we're clear. I'm making the distinction here between closeted men, gay men who know they're gay but lie about it for acceptance sake (I guess) and DL men, men who date and even marry women but still fuck around with men. DL men are just totally gross and a disgrace to all men gay and straight. They're a horse of another color, not only don't I have respect for them I can't stand them, but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

With that said, let's continue. A friend of mine told me a story of two men he knew that bought a two bedroom condo that they couldn't afford just so that when their parents and other people came over one could sleep in the other room so that they could live under the guise of being roommates. Two single and available men, over 30, no girlfriends, no ex-wives, no kids, living together for years and years and they really don't think that people don't know what's going on, like they're really fooling somebody. The question is are they trying to fool other people or fool themselves? How ridiculous is this? To fuck your finances and credit up to maintain a facade of a life solely for the approval of other people. In what life does that make sense? These are grown ass men living their lives in hiding like little kids. How are you gonna let other people rule how you live your life in your house, that you pay for? That's crazy. Couldn't be me.

All of this though is my opinion. I mean hey, if you wanna be a closet case, be a closet case, that's your life, your right as an American, just keep the shit away from me. Due to what I do (the blogging and such) and my overall nature I can't be friends with you ('cuz everyone knows I'm gay and don't deny it, so being around me is gonna out you sooner or later) and I most certainly won't date you. If someone tries to talk to me at a club or hits me up online and says anything even remotely to the effect that they are not out, that ends the conversation. That is unless they continue it, then a debate usually ensues.

Yesterday, a guy hit me up online. I looked at his profile. It said that he was "not out". Let's call this guy CedarChest (cedar, because he's in the closet). I politely ended the conversation, he continued it and the debate ensued and of course I've added my sidebar comments:

CedarChest: "whas good"

Me: "nothin chillin, sorry but im not into dudes that arent out about their sexuality."

Sidebar: Politely ending the conversation.

CedarChest: "thas kool but u should respect someones choice to not b captain gay. i wasnt tryna holla at u on that level jus wanted to chat wit see how convo goes"

Sidebar: Sure you weren't... but either way, a closet case having a convo with "Captain Gay" ain't gon' go but so far.

Me: "<=== Captain Gay and proud. I'm gonna take on that moniker, thank you. Nah I actually don't have respect for any grown ass man who's on the DL. I'm not saying be a drag queen but if someone asks you whether you're gay and you lie and say no, then no I have no respect for you."

Sidebar: CedarChest is older than me according to his profile, which makes it even more tired.

CedarChest: "well if that works for u im happy for u. but n e way whas ya name"

Me: "Captain Homo S. Gay LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL"

CedarChest: "see this is y regular dudes like me dont like fem dudes like u."

Sidebar: Bitch can't take a joke now all of a sudden I gotta be fem. Good thing that I'm a secure gay man who wouldn't take that as an insult.

Me: "I'm actually not fem, but okay. LOL And if by "regular" you must not be speaking of normal, because a normal man stands up for who he is and what he does and isn't DL. And a DL man not liking me is no surprise, how can you like me when you don't even like you?"

Sidebar: I don't like that I used the term "DL" there. I should have used the term "closeted".

CedarChest: "a normal doesnt have to b a poster boi for homosexuality. a normal man dnt care who knos but wont run around tellin everyone he is gay. now go have fun this convo wit u is a waste"

Sidebar: Yeah, but you obviously care who knows you're gay, hence why you're in the closet. Yeah, this convo, a waste, yeah. I was tryna tell you that.

Some may look at my stance as extreme but it's whatever. Being an openly gay man, with my blog, on the internet and in my community I have to deal with people's homophobic bullshit all the time. Now yes, I live in New York, a very liberal city and no I don't walk around in a dress, but I have the utmost respect for those who do. In fact most people who meet me and don't ask me about it don't even realize that I'm gay, but even a person in my situation still has homophobic attitudes to deal with. As gays we are not a societal norm and at times it's a struggle, it's be a battle for us just to live our lives like everyone else at times, it's unfortunate but it is what it is. So while I'm on the forefront of this battle, writing, blogging, voting and being a voice in the world I really don't have the patience for a closet case. I'm like Harriet Tubman, holding niggas up with my pistol on the Underground Railroad, if you wanna be free come with me and let's fight this fight, if not I'm leaving your punk ass behind because the movement can't wait for scary ass niggas to get their shit together. In a world where gays are fighting for the rights to marry, have hospital visitation, insurance and things like that who needs a closet case running around here being a nuisance.

Remember, this is MY opinion and once you hit the close button at the top of your web browser, "Poof!" it's gone.

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Playing In The Background...
"Your Secret Love"
by Luther Vandross
from the album "Your Secret Love"
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I'm reposting this one because it's a classic, one of my absolute favorites and one people still talk about to this day. If I didn't live this one I wouldn't believe it myself.

Enjoy.

Originally posted on September 11, 2007 10:15 AM
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I'm an advocate for online dating. I think it's great. Of course like any other kind of dating you should be careful about meeting strangers and you should be selective of who, when, where, and how long it will take before you are ready to meet somebody. On the other hand everyone is a stranger until you get to know them, right? To me meeting people online much better than getting dressed and going out to a club because it's free and you can do it in the privacy of your own home and talk to as many people as you want to one time and rejection is just a click of a mouse! All their info is on their profile, it's like ordering takeout. This series will focus on some of the not so good experiences I've had with online dating.
Enjoy.
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This has to be the absolute worst date I have ever had and I have had some bad ones, as you know. I wouldn't believe this story if I hadn't lived it myself.

I was online in the middle of the night at work about two years ago. I was talking to this guy. Unlike most guys I've talked to online he lived two states away. We talked online and over the phone for about a week. Things seemed to be going well considering the fact that we had only known each other for such a short period of time. Being the proactive person that I am I offered to take a bus to go out there where he was and stay over with him the next time I had a day off from work. He was delighted and anxious to meet me in person.

So a few days later I boarded a bus to go and meet him. Let's call him Long Distance Lover, LDL for short. Now you know LDL had to provide me with dayum near a magazine quality photo spread before I agreed to travel that far to meet him. My philosophy with photo spreads is this. Expect the person to look like their worst picture in the photo spread. If you can deal with that, then you can deal with the person. Remember, photos capture only a moment in time, a mere nanosecond of a person's existence, lighting and angles are everything. I always say if you meet anyone from online, the more photos the better.

LDL met me at the bus station once I arrived to his city. As I thought, he looked the most like his worst picture, which was okay. He wasn't drop dead gorgeous, but I wasn't about to use my return ticket right then either. We walked from there to his house. He'd already informed me that he lived with his mother who he told me was okay with my sleepover visit and his sexuality in general. You know I had to ask, I ain't that crazy.

When we reached LDL's place his mom was there, she was cooking at the time. I met her, she seemed very nice, but as much as I hate to speak ill of anyone's mother I have to say that LDL's mom didn't seem to be all there mentally. She seemed as though she had suffered through some type of mental problem or trauma in her past, she didn't seem dangerous, or scary though. She was very nice, warm and accommodating, she even offered me some of the dinner she was cooking. I ate and it was good. I had just gotten off work early that morning and I was really tired. LDL showed me to the room where I'd be sleeping and I took my clothes off and took a little nap.

I drifted in and out of sleep in LDL's bed unable to really get comfortable, number one because I was in another state in a strange bed, number two because everyone else in the house was still awake. LDL came up and and chilled with me for a while. I remember us messing around for a little bit but nothing significant happened. He left and went back downstairs and I drifted off back into my pseudo-sleep. In one of my more awake moments out of slightly opened eyes I saw his mother come into the room for a second, she did something and quickly left. I'm not sure exactly how much time had past but my fatigue had taken over and I finally fell asleep. I was awakened by the sound of LDL and his mother arguing from downstairs.

"Who's that naked man in my bed?"

LDL's mother yelled. He yelled back something indistinguishable. I'm laying there like 'What the fuck?' Still somewhere between awake and asleep hoping this shyt is some kinda crazy dream. I hear her yell again:

"Who's that naked man in my bed?"

'Oh shyt! This is fuckin' real! What the fuck is going on?' I thought. As I opened my eyes I noticed that the room was oddly feminine. Why the fuck would this nigga have me sleeping in his mother's bed? There are two bedrooms in the house. And does she not know what was going on? She was cool a little while ago. Then I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I close my eyes and pretend like I'm asleep. LDL comes into the room, takes the phone and goes back downstairs. A few seconds later I hear LDL saying something like this:

"Hello, police....
My mother is here and I need her picked up.
She's mentally unstable and refuses to take her medication.
She has become violent."

'Oh hell fuckin' no! I gotta get outta here!' I thought as I sat up trying to devise a plan. Unfortunately there's only one exit and I can't get out without going past them and Lord only knows what's going on downstairs. Several minutes later I hear more footsteps coming up the stairs. I almost got whiplash I flung my head back down on that pillow so fast. LDL's mother comes into the room, takes me by my hand and leads down the stairs.

"See, this the naked man in my bed, I'm not crazy!"

LDL's mother said as I stood there dumbfounded in the middle of the living room floor in my boxers in front of her, LDL, and two police officers. Okay, the police have been called, this is officially the worst date ever.

"Go back upstairs!"
LDL yells at me.

"I don't understand why my son punkin' like this..."
LDL's mom says, nearly crying.

"Do you know this gentleman?"
The policeman on the left asks me.

"Yeah we're friends..."
I answer.

"I don't understand why my son punkin' like this..."
LDL's mom repeats.

"Go back upstairs!"
LDL yells at me again.

I'm 'bout tired of this nigga yellin' at me. It ain't my fault his mama crazy. He shoulda told me this shyt. This is the typa shyt you fuckin' tell a person before they travel to another state. I proceeded to go upstairs and start putting on my shyt. 'I'm getting the fuck outta here!' I thought. A few minutes later LDL comes upstairs and sees me getting ready to go.

"What you doin'?"

"Gettin' up outta here."
I answer.

"Why, why you leavin'?"

This nigga can't be serious.
"'Cuz I see Im' causing a problem here."

"Nah, it's aight. She's gone. They took her. You couldn't get back on a bus anyway now. The bus station is closed. So you mind as well stay until in the morning."

I look at my cell phone and notice that it's after one in the morning. Shyt! That bus station probably won't open until at least five or six. Once I realized I was stuck I undressed again and climbed back into bed with him. He tried to mess around with me but at that point I was still tired and really, really, really not in the mood. All I wanted to do was go home. He kept pressuring me though and we ended up doing a little something. I was so not into it though. Soon after we went to sleep. I totally regretted this whole thing and vowed to never travel this far for a date again. A few hours later we were awakened by a loud banging on the door.

"Let me in! Let me in!"

You guessed it, homegirl was back. I'm not sure how she got back but she was back. By this time it was a little after 5am and pouring raining outside. I'm laying there, totally not believing this shyt is happening to me. He went downstairs to let her in. He managed to find a way to calm her down and get her quiet. After that we switched rooms. Me and LDL were downstairs on the couch and his mother slept upstairs in her bed. That led me to ask him why the fuck we were in her bed to begin with. I also wondering what the hell fuckin' body they were hiding in that other bedroom? This whole thing was too weird for words. I was ready to go.

He explained to me that ever since his mother got sick they slept in the bed upstairs together, but tonight was different because I was here. She was scared to sleep alone. Touching story, violins playing, all that, but I wondered why he didn't bother telling me any of this before I got there. We didn't have to sleep together. I was totally fine chillin' with him and then sleeping alone on the couch. LDL coulda slept with his mother. I didn't mind, especially if it would have helped to avoid this mess. Oh yeah, and judging from his mother's reaction in front of the police LDL wasn't one hundred percent forthright with his mom about his sexuality. The nigga lied to me. So I was really over him now.

To give LDL the benefit of the doubt I guess he was tired of sleeping with his mom. He was a grown ass gay man with hormones and like the rest of us grown ass gay men I'm sure he wants to feel the touch of another man sometimes (all the time for some of us). Thankfully I have never been in the place to have to take care of a debilitated parent, I'm sure it's hard and on top of that he's all alone.

An alarm clock goes off, it's 9 am. LDL wakes up for work and asks me whether I wanted to go to work for a few hours with him or stay there as we were supposed to spend the day together. After last night I was so not into it anymore. In an effort to accelerate my escape back to New York I told him that I'd rather stay and that he could come back and scoop me up later. LDL leaves. Of course that means I was alone in the house with LDL's mother. She was upstairs asleep and this was my perfect opportunity to sneak out. In retrospect I shoulda just told his ass 'Yo mama crazy, I'm over this, I'm leaving.' But I really didn't wanna discuss this with him and I know he was already embarrassed enough after how his mom behaved the night before. I figured at the time that slipping out was the least dramatic way to handle things.

As I quietly slipped on the rest of my clothes. I realize that I left the olive green Lacoste polo I was wearing upstairs in the room. 'Oh well, fuck the shirt!' I thought as there was no way in hell I was going back up there. I heard LDL's mother come downstairs and start stirring around, of course that was my cue to pretend I was asleep again. Just then LDL called me on my cell phone. I didn't answer. He called again, and again, and again. Then he called the house phone there. His mother answers the phone. I realized that he was gonna ask her for me. The butterflies were fluttering like crazy in my stomach as I felt her presence come closer to me with the phone.

"It's for you."
She says to me leaning over the back of the pull out couch with the receiver in hand.

"Oh and I'm so sorry for last night, baby."
She continued, and flashed me the sincerest of smiles as I took the phone from her hand.

It was LDL. He was telling me that he was gonna send his friend to come pick me up in a little while. Little did he know my black ass was gonna be long gone before that happened. So after the conversation with LDL I snuck back upstairs to get my Lacoste polo. Shyt, mama was fine now I may as well get all my shyt before I bounce. As I quietly made my way out just inches from the doorknob. LDL's mother stops me.

"Excuse me baby, I was supposed to pick up a refill of these pills from the drug store. Can you get them for me baby?"

Is she fuckin' serious? This is the same woman that no more than ten hours ago dragged me in front of the police in my underwear like I was a common criminal. Now she wants me to do her favors like I'm the son she never had. Homegirl really is crazy. I was too close to getting the hell out of there to argue. She handed me the bottle of pills and I pretended to phone the pharmacy (without pressing any buttons on my cell phone, she didn't notice). After my fake conversation with the pharmacist I told her that they said she would have to come and pick up the medication herself.

And that was it. I was outside, I was free. I ran my black ass back to that bus station like I never ran before. I navigated the streets of that city like I had lived there my whole life. Thank God for my good memory and impeccable sense of direction. I didn't make one wrong turn. All the while LDL was blowing up my cell phone. I didn't answer and I was on the lookout for him as well. I wasn't in the mood to be nice, I wasn't in the mood to understand, I wasn't in the mood to explain, I just wanted to go home.

I finally got to the bus station. I found out that the next bus back to New York was leaving at 11am. By that time it was a little past 10. The bus station was all glass in front and I knew that LDL was probably looking for me. So I hid out in the back, obscured between the snack and soda vending machines until the bus arrived. I had never been so happy to see a bus in all my life. All during the ride back to New York LDL kept blowing up my phone. He had to have called like 20 times. I so didn't feel like talking to him.

The next day he called me again. This time I answered. He asked me whether I wanted to continue speaking to him as if not answering his four hundred and twenty-six phone calls weren't enough of a sign. I kindly told him that I did not want to continue speaking to him and I haven't heard from him ever since.

I feel for LDL as his situation was quite unfortunate. He should have told me about his circumstances before I came to visit him. I know it's a hard thing to tell someone that you hardly know but in this situation it was definitely necessary. He was a cool person, if he had told me about his mom I honestly would have understood and probably would have come to see him anyway. He also should have also not changed his routine with his mom so abruptly. I would have been cool adjusting to the way things were in their home. My presence was no reason to switch things up. Hopefully this experience taught LDL to tell people the full truth before inviting them over.

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Playing In The Background...
"Long Distance Love"
by Tamia
from the album "A Nu Day"
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One thing I never, ever claimed to be was an expert as I am very much a work in progress. I'm no dummy though, I know what I know but I've never presented myself as anybody's authority. Nevertheless I must be doing something right because behind the scenes people keep on emailing me asking my for advice and I can only shy away but for so long. So here it is people, you've finally rope-a-doped me into it. I'm about to get all Dan Savage on you now. I'm not sure how all of this is gonna turn out, but however it turns out remember, you asked for it, presenting (dun-da-da-dahhh): Adam's Reluctant Advice Column.

Enjoy.

If you ever want to email me a question, problem or issue to be
possibly shared here or just wanna say "Hi." click here to send me an email. And of course whatever you send is anonymous, you don't even have to give your name.

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Hey y'all,

Today's letter addresses an age old problem which I'm sure we've all been on both sides of, neither side is a piece of cake so let's get right to it.

Dear Adam,

Well, I have a problem. I started talking to this dude a while ago. It's been about two months now. We were just friends first and then he wanted to start "talking". Well we did that and we went on one date if you want to call it a date. We just went to the movies. Well we used to talk all the time and now he just wants to text and he says he doesn't like to talk on the phone now. I feel like I am holding on to something that I should not be. I like him a lot but I am starting to think we need to just be friends or not talk at all. I need help. How should I handle this? Should I just let it go?

- Confused, But Not Really

Awww damn. I know exactly what this is. Your overall question is "Should you just let it go?" In a word, yes. In two words, hell yes. I'm gonna tell you why. It seems as though this dude you're talking to has gotten in a little over his head with you. People often fail to realize that the jump from the placid waters of 'lake friendship' into the fast moving 'relationship rapids' is a big one. The reason why we, especially as gay men can have friendships that last forever, but on the other hand change boyfriends like we change underwear is that our romantic relationships are usually very volatile as we put a lot of ourselves into them, usually very quickly. Ever notice how it took you a year to realize that you love your best friend and a month to tell your ex that you loved him? If our friend does something to offend us it's much easier to be mad for a while, cuss them out, tell them about themselves, laugh it off and move on than it is with a boyfriend because for some reason we can accept that our friends are human and therefore imperfect and can make mistakes from time to time, but we place lofty, unrealistic standards on our potential romantic partners that they MUST live by and if for some reason they falter our feelings are hurt and we're over them (underwear change). For some reason we expect every new boyfriend to bear the burdens and correct all of our damage from our past relationships. Ever notice how we'll have an unattractive friend and love the hell out of them, but we'd rather be alone before we date an unattractive guy? (That's so me.) Ever notice how we are all looking for the "perfect guy" but you never really hear anyone say that they're looking for the "perfect friend". We trim, prune and cultivate our friendships yet we expect our relationships to come ready to wear, pressed and perfectly tailored.

I digressed a little, but I've said all that to say this. From your letter it seems as though that movie date was the turning point. One of these or a combination of these two things has most likely happened and having to say this is where it gets hard for me as the person you came to for advice, but here we go. Either something you did on that date turned him off, something that was acceptable from a friend but unacceptable from a partner ('cuz remember the standards changed) or there's someone else who's come around (or has been around all along that has just now become available) that he's more interested in and seems to fit his standards better.

It seems as though he still wants to keep you as a friend though and is just too pussy to tell you that he's fucked up by trying to take things to the next level without being sure of what he really wanted to do in the first place, hoping that as a result of his gradual pushing you away (this he only just wants to just text now all of a sudden bullshit) that you become disinterested and stop pursuing the relationship and hopefully find someone else. A few weeks of not really talking while he's doing his thing with the new person (or even alone) and you getting over it or finding a new person that you get so wrapped up in that you forget all about how he strung you along and played with your emotions, would make things so that you then can both eventually laugh the whole thing off and be ki ki sisters again... I don't think so, life don't work like that buddy. Your friend (and I'm using the term loosely) is a non-confrontational pussy that's trying to have his cake and eat it too, or rather has taken a bite out of some cake, that didn't really taste like he thought it would and is trying to get a new piece of cake without spending any money, cheap bastard!

I would say for you not to let him get away with this, but I'm not gonna send you out on the attack after him like some desperate bitch, we won't have that. Unfortunately, or maybe not so unfortunately you may have to count this one as a loss. He fucked your friendship up and he's gonna have to fix it. Either way, you're gonna have to move on with your life. Stop calling him, if he calls or texts you, answer, but don't keep initiating obviously bothersome contact. Let him go. Deep down inside you know it's the best thing to do, that's the real reason why you wrote me this letter. There's no point in badgering him and making yourself look stupid and desperate. You already see what it is and where he's at so you gotta do what's best for you now. Go somewhere and heal, it shouldn't take too long, 'cuz y'all haven't been talking that long and just when he thinks it's safe to come around again, 'cuz more than likely he will. Confront him and ask him why he played you the way he did. He's gonna gag at the fact that you haven't forgotten. Don't count on this vindication though, there is a possibility that he may never speak to you again after you stop initiating contact. Either way you haven't lost anything, but yet another scatterbrained homosexual and don't we have enough of those floating around anyway?

You'll be fine. I promise.
-Adam

PS: And for the love of Marc Jacobs please tell me that you didn't have sex with him... If so add another week to the recovery process.

PPS: The prospect of a relationship is NEVER usually worth losing a friend, no matter how sexy your friend is. I've learned this the hard way too many times. Just because you're cool with someone and are attracted to them that does mean that you have to be together. FRIENDSHIP IS OKAY!

If you ever want to email me a question, problem or issue to be
possibly shared here or just wanna say "Hi." click here to send me an email. And of course whatever you send is anonymous, you don't even have to give your name.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Be Mine!"
by Robyn
from the album "Robyn"
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First of all I wanna start this post off by posting a song, "Oh Girl" by Raphael Saddiq feat Jay-Z, off his new album "The Way I See It". Let it play while you're reading the blog post. Although the subject matter of the song has nothing to do with the story I'm about to tell, it's just been the soundtrack of my day as I've been playing it nonstop since I first heard it this afternoon, or rather yesterday afternoon since it's after 4am now. Although I can't get with everything Mr. Saddiq does he's definitely a musical genius and this song proves it. This song, the whole record actually is on some Frankie Lyman, Smokie Robinson, Chi-Lites typa shit. So imagine Jay-Z on a track like that and murdering it. Raphael Saddiq doesn't even sound like himself singing it. It's crazy. Check it out. Let it play as you read. I love it. It makes me feel like a pimp or an old skool player. LOL **sings** "Ooh girl..."

Click on the player below to play:

"Oh Girl"
by Raphael Saddiq feat. Jay-Z
from the album "The Way I See It"

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It's 930a now. I had to take a nap.

Aight. So I met this guy late Friday night, let's call him Rufus. Unlike most guys I meet he was on some 'I'm ready for a relationship' type shit. His online profile actually said something like 'I wanna find a dude who will give me a reason to delete this profile'. To a dude like me who despite all of my sex-capades would like very much to settle with Mr. Right this sounds great and he was fine too. And unlike most of my dates he was my age, y'all know I'm notoriously known for dating guys younger than me (but still legal of course), what can I say, I like 'em a young, they're usually not jaded-ass queens like a lot of the guys my age and older. On top of that he lived relatively close to me, a few blocks from of my best friend's houses so I was in his area all the time, and had newly moved back to NYC, so he was easy to get to and wasn't in the current NYC black gay scene, so the chance of sexual overlap with one of my friends was minimal. If someone was to be the quote-unquote "perfect" guy for me, it was him, at least on paper.

So we chill at Rufus' place, we talk and realize that we have a lot in common, favorite TV shows, movies, we even have the same phone. His body was bangin', he had the most perfect ass ever and the way he moaned all throughout our foreplay was driving me crazy. We ended up having sex that night and he wasn't even all weird about it. Like I said, perfect. I'm like ready to marry this dude. I even asked him that night "So what's the catch?" I didn't want to be so skeptical about everything but it was so hard to believe that Mr. Right, or rather someone so right for me, with so many of the characteristics I'm looking for in a mate would just come into my life out of nowhere like this.

So Saturday morning, yesterday morning we wake up and I asked Rufus whether he wanted to see me again, 'cuz I'm still not quite believing all of this. He said yeah. We actually made tentative plans to see each other later that day that we would confirm a few hours later. I'll let the text messages tell the rest of the story and I'll sprinkle my sidebar comments throughout.

Saturday, September 13th, 2008:

502p - Rufus: "What u doing?"

545p - Adam: "Whaddup? I was just thinking about u. Believe it or not I'm finally just getting to the gym. U wanna catch a movie tonight?"

549p - Rufus: "Where and when?"

552p - Adam: "Tonight I guess like 9-ish. I'll meet u at ur place. I'll buy a newspaper and get times n shyt. I'll call u when I leave the gym. I should be outta here in 45. By the way I had a great time w u last night. Ur a kewl guy and sexy as hell. ;)"

600p - Rufus: "Thanks I had a great time also."

623p - Rufus: "Can we go tomorrow. My bestfriend just called me and I had invited him over last week but just heard from him. Was not sure if he could make it since I had not heard from him. Sorry."

Sidebar: This nigga must have went and found him another date he wants to see tonight. He really thinks I'm stupid or something, he's obviously juggling, but lemme not be a jaded queen and give him the benefit of the doubt. I'll play along. But you can't juggle a juggler. I invented that shit. I'm tight that now I gotta, make alternate plans because this nigga got another date. Fuck it, I was gonna see "The Women" tonight whether I saw it with him or not. I know it sounds like I'm jumping to a conclusion but I'ma let y'all know how I know he was lying and the critical rookie mistake he made in telling this particular lie.

625p - Adam: "Aight, I guess tomorrow then. :("

Sidebar: He has lost SO many points with me. If this were "Wheel Of Fortune" he would have just spun the wheel and landed on "bankrupt" right now.

626p - Rufus: "Sorry, definitely tomorrow. An afternoon date, we could even have brunch and then a movie or movie and a meal LOL"

706p - I get out of the gym and call him. Voicemail. I don't do voicemail. Suspicions further confirmed.

1041p - I call again as I'm on my way to Mr. Man's house to meet up with our other boys to head out to the movie. He answers. I ask what he's doing and he tells me he's just chilling with his best friend. I let him know that I'm heading out to the movies with my boys and that I didn't want to interrupt them and that I'd holla lata.

Sunday, September 14th, 2008:

I text him during the movie:

1:29a - Adam: "What u doin?"

132a - Rufus: "Layin down"

132a - Adam: "Are u alone?"

134a - Rufus: "Yes"

135a - Adam: "Can I snuggle w u tonite? I promise I'll be a good boy... :)"

138a - Rufus: "Lol. My best friend is here just sleeping on the couch. I am just alone in my room."

Sidebar: Lies. And a bad one at that. I'ma have to teach this nigga how to lie. This shit is pitiful, almost painful to watch, yet funny. This, by the way is the catch.

141a - Adam: "But u still didn't answer my question..."

142a - Rufus: "Lol. See u tomorrow night."

Sidebar: Nice try, but even being dismissive won't get you out of this one. Being evasive is something you should have tried two lies ago. Lemme nip this thing in the bud right now.

146a - Adam: ":) R u on a date?"

Sidebar: 16 minutes later...

202a - Adam: ":)"

Thought so. Mr. Rufus got the game all fucked up. He was tryna juggle but he made a few fatal errors. See this is the thing y'all. I'm a Leo, so with that comes the propensity to be a pretty decent liar. What makes me an even better liar than the average Leo is the fact that I don't like to lie and that I have a really good memory, especially of details. Lemme tell you where Rufus went wrong and how he could have actually gotten away with this if he played his cards right.

Rufus' first mistake was made at 623p Saturday evening. How did I know immediately that he was telling me a lie. He said to me:

"Can we go tomorrow. My bestfriend just called me and I had invited him over last week but just heard from him. Was not sure if he could make it since I had not heard from him. Sorry."

Rookie lie mistake, too many details. When telling the truth details confirm innocence, when telling a lie they only fuel suspicion. The more details you put into a lie the more details you then have to be responsible for. A better lie for him to tell would have been:

"My best friend is going through something with his boyfriend, he's all crying and shit. I really need to be there for him tonight. I know that this is short notice and I'm really sorry to do this to you, but can we reschedule for tomorrow? I promise I'll make it up to you. :)"

Why is my lie better than his? See, I put more emphasis into engaging the person I'm lying to than I did into explaining myself. For someone to be a decent liar they must first understand the truth. The thing that people need to understand about the truth is that the truth just is. There's no need to explain the truth. If my best friend was indeed going through something with his boyfriend then that is what it is, no need to validate it with details, instead I need to validate the person I'm canceling on to insure that I can get together with him tomorrow while still being able to do what I wanted to do tonight. In order to make someone else believe a lie you have to believe it first. His mistake was that he didn't believe his own lie and that he needed to validate it in his own mind by reciting details to me. I just met him yesterday. I didn't need to know that he invited his friend over last week, I didn't even know him last week. Why did he tell me that his friend was coming over to his house, I didn't need to know that, that's none of my business, he didn't owe me that much of an explanation. For all I know he could have been going to his friend's house. By leaving things open that way my mind could not latch on to anything specific about the story to create a mental case against him. With minimal details I have no choice but to believe whatever he tells me. Those details aren't totally needless though, he should have rehearsed them in his mind and created a mental back story, so that he could be sharp just in case of questioning and he then would have had more confidence in the lie he was planning to tell me.

He tried to validate me two minutes later when he said:

"Sorry, definitely tomorrow. An afternoon date, we could even have brunch and then a movie or movie and a meal LOL"

But it was already too late. And laughing, even "LOL" via text message screams nervousness.

His second mistake:

1:29a - Adam: "What u doin?"

132a - Rufus: "Layin down"

Number one, he should have never answered my text. Again, being vague is the key to lying. By him answering my text I knew that he was awake and where he was. If he had never answered I wouldn't have known where he was or what he was doing and again, I would have had no choice to believe whatever he told me. If you are with one date and another date texts or calls you DO NOT ANSWER THE PHONE! My only explanation for why he answered was because the date obviously wasn't going so great. If you're with another date at 130 in the morning and you're answering my text the other date certainly must not be all that.

132a - Adam: "Are u alone?"

134a - Rufus: "Yes"

Number two, he should have never answered this question either, although he really had no choice at his point, all it did was build my case against him.

135a - Adam: "Can I snuggle w u tonite? I promise I'll be a good boy... :)"

138a - Rufus: "Lol. My best friend is here just sleeping on the couch. I am just alone in my room."

Not only is he answering my questions and giving me details of his where and whatabouts but he just caught himself in a lie. He just said he was alone. And there was no need to go into detail about he and his "best friend's" sleeping arrangements. Notice how I never told him where I was. I was texting him from the movie theatre downtown but I could have just as easily been at my friend's house who he knows only lives a few blocks away from him. He could have included that fatal little detail out of possible fear that I may have been in the area. And furthermore, why wouldn't his best friend sleep in the bed with him? Anytime one of my best friends stay over they sleep in bed with me. It's not like we're straight and that would be considered out of the ordinary or something. This was obviously a lie. If I didn't have any concrete evidence before, I have it now, he's caught.

141a - Adam: "But u still didn't answer my question..."

142a - Rufus: "Lol. See u tomorrow night."

His attempt to finally be evasive at my questioning was too little too late, he's caught already.

See the thing is, he didn't even have to go through all of this, the lies and all. He could have actually told the truth and I actually would have understood. I mean, hey, we're all grown-ups here. I've been through enough and have dated enough to know that none of us when we're endeavoring to begin something with someone new starts out completely single. Even if we don't have a steady boyfriend or girlfriend we all have a litany of fuck buddies, dates, jumpoffs, people we're talking to and ex-date baggage that we have to prune away before we can give ourselves fully to that someone new, shit, I got jumpoffs. Besides, he just met me 36 hours ago, he had no obligation to me, he didn't have to lie. He could have just said 'Adam, I forgot I already had plans tonight' or he could have even said that he had another date. I have to admit that it wouldn't have exactly been music to my ears but it would have been better than lying and attempting to insult my intelligence. He could have at least respected me enough to tell me the truth. He didn't have to go into details, but he would have at least given me the opportunity to make an informed decision about how I felt about him dating other people. I mean he was well within his rights to do so, we hadn't established anything yet. And even if he hadn't mentioned anything about the date he was going on at least be evasive enough in your explanation to validate me but not arouse my suspicion. But that was his mistake, he didn't lie to validate me, he lied to validate himself. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He lied so he could test the waters without the risk of losing me.

I've been where he is many times before. You meet someone you like and then all of a sudden someone else you could possibly like comes out of the blue and before you can really get into that first person you wanna test out the other person just so that you don't have to wonder. And after knowing the first person for only 36 hours I feel as though you're well within your rights to do that, but if you are gonna do it, tell the whole truth or at least a decent lie. It's so weird how we as gay men have this weird expectation that as soon as we talk to a guy that no one else in the world is talking to him. Like he ceases to be attractive and attracted to other people. I've learned through experience that monogamy is not an event it's a process.

So now I must decide whether I want to see Rufus again today. He never hit me back yesterday, obviously not. He was embarrassed. I caught his ass. Besides the fact that he's a bad liar he's still all the great things I described earlier. Is that enough reason to never speak to him again or should I call him, let him off the hook and continue with our plans for today. He obviously wasn't too into that date anyway. Today can be a chance for us to have an honest talk with each other. Mr. Man forgave me for all the fucked up shit I did to him last year and now we're the best of friends, this little mess here pales in comparison. Mr. Man didn't just throw me away when I lied to him so maybe this is my chance to pass that same forgiveness along. And I just really want the pleasure of confronting Rufus face to face.

What I don't like most about all of this, even though at this juncture it's really not a big deal, is the fact that Rufus tried to insult my intelligence. I have seen so much and have played so many games that at this point if a nigga does play me it's only because I'm allowing him to. A perfect example of that was the whole Pubby debacle. And besides I'd rather fuck with a bad liar than a good one.

We'll see.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Oh Girl"
by Raphael Saddiq feat. Jay-Z
from the album "The Way I See It"
and
"Little Lies"
by Fleetwood Mac
from the album "The Very Best Of Fleetwood Mac"
==========

There was this time where I met this guy, lets call him Lawrence. Me and Lawrence initially met on the internet and when we decided to meet in person and we met at a local lounge. I brought friends with me and so did he. After I walked in and we recognized each other I sat over by where him and his friends were. He was fine as hell, better looking than his pictures and he was feeling me too. The conversation was going good and there was definitely some chemistry. He then introduced me to his friends and as I went around shaking hands, exchanging warm smiles, trying to remember names one friend's smile was a little too warm. He looked into my eyes with a lust so hot it made the room warm. During our few second exchange he looked me dead in my eyes and never averted his stare. All of this while I was right next to Lawrence. The worst thing about it was that he was fine too. He was sexy, they were both sexy. Damn, what's a nigga to do?

As the night went on any time I looked in the friend's direction there was that same lustful stare. It got to the point where I avoided eye contact with him, but even then I could feel his gaze burning the side of my face. I'm trying to do the right thing, why is he making it so hard? The crazy thing about it is that Lawrence seems like the type that likes me and would wanna take things slow with me. His friend however seemed like he'd wanna get to know me eventually, like after I fucked the hell out of him, which is cool too, y'all know I like that kinda shit. But I remained a good boy. Eventually the friend walked away from us during the course of the night. As he sashayed toward the dance floor I could see the way his pants sagged to perfectly hug that phat ass of his. Damn.

I remained cool and continued to talk to Lawrence, who is still fine and sexy as hell, just not as flirtatious and overt. Even though overt can be such a turn on. I looked at it this way, right is right and fair is fair. I did come out to meet Lawrence so I know it'd be fucked up of me to try to holla at his friend on some sneak shit. Though Lawrence and I weren't married or nothing I at least owed him the respect of not talking to his boy. Damn I wish they didn't know each other or would have at least came separately so I could find a way to make trying to holla at the friend okay. But alas it is not. A year or two ago I woulda said fuck it and got the friend to the side and got them digits and wrote a blog post about how amazing the first date sex was, but I've grown since then, fucking growth. So I went home that night and masturbated about it and continued to court Lawrence. It was the right thing to do. But every so often an evil thought about fucking his friend crossed my mind, but I pushed them away. Life's all about choices people. But I know that sex probably woulda been off the hook. Damn, dayum, DAMN!

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Take Me On The Floor"
by The Veronicas
from the album "Hook Me Up"
==========

So I'm at a thing last night, a social thing. I seem to always find myself at some kind of thing or another, especially since I'm promoting my party and all now. It's a gay thing, guys are there, they're flirting with me, some more obviously than others as I work the room, flyers in hand. I'm nice, I smile. I won't flat out tell someone that I'm not interested unless they're just like really offensive, like that guy who touched my ass at Ultra the other night. I almost went the fuck off, y'all know I don't get down like that. You see why I don't wear dress pants. Anyway, as I socialized that night I began to think about all the guys that try to get at me on a daily basis whether it be at an event, or online, through here or whatever and how I'm just not into them for the most part. Why is it that I don't attract what I want? And then when I go out to get what I'm attracted to that doesn't seem to work out either.

Dating sucks. I hate meeting new people. I hate having to tell them the same stories, the same jokes, the same anecdotes, laughing the same laughs, sharing my idiosyncrasies over and over again and having to memorize theirs all for them to just up and stop calling or for things to fall apart in a few weeks time. Those people who rejoice in being single, I don't get it. I like the idea of having someone to take care of and depend on. I want someone to want to know my whereabouts and someone to spend a considerable amount of my time with. I want to build a life with someone, to have our individual lives braided together into one. Even in my more promiscuous days I never really believed in the whole "ain't no pussy like new pussy" thing. 'Cuz when the lights go out it really doesn't feel much different one from another. It's the feelings you have (or don't have) for the person that makes it differ. Like I said before as I getting older I'm getting more and more like my Dad, just a simple, no frills guy and I tend to be looking for someone more like my Mom, beautiful and feisty, who likes to dress me. I guess the right one will come along some day. I've dated a few people in the last few months but it's been like "anh whatever..."

Honestly, the main reason for my dating apathy as of late is that I wasn't fully over Pubby. Oh Jesus, I feel like such an idiot saying that but it's true. I didn't tell y'all this, but somewhere during those weeks that I didn't blog as frequently as I normally there was a relapse. We tried it again, what was that, number five? I've never been the make-up to break-up type until now. It was like, just at the moment that I thought I was finally good. I stopped the begging and pleading. I let go any hope of us in the future. Just when I was angry enough at him for hurting me again and strong enough in myself to move on he called. He sounded so weak and so small, like he needed me and I caved in. Of course it didn't work out. unless he was a totally different person I pretty much knew it wouldn't. The reason why I didn't say anything to y'all is because, frankly I was embarrassed. Trust me, I'm hardly deluded about this sorta thing. I fully realize that going back to something for the fifth time that has failed all four previous times is stupid and destined to fail again, but I walked back into again anyway. Why?

I look at my relationship with Pubby like a drug addiction. It's like doing "coke" (cocaine) or "ex" (ecstasy) or "k" (ketamine or "special k") or crack or whatever the kids are doing in the clubs now. You know it's stupid and no good for you and will only lead to your downfall but you indulge in it anyway because it feels good at the time and you think it makes you look cool while clean people look at you like you're a stupid ass druggie and make fun of you behind your back and to your face sometimes, but you're too high to notice. The good days with him, the highs of our relationship were so high and everything was so great, but those bad days with him, when we were arguing, coming down from that shit was the worst. It's like something a drug user once told me about using drugs "no high is better than your first high and every time you use drugs you try to achieve that first high again". Yeah, but you just said that no high is better than your first high and that there's no way you can get that again so why keep trying? You're only killing yourself. Stupid, huh? Exactly. When the rationale behind my participation in a bad relationship became congruent to that of a drug user I knew it was definitely time to take my ass to relationship rehab. I'm not 100% sure exactly what that is yet but I know that that I cannot do anymore. So I quit, cold turkey and this time it feels easier than it's even been before. Whenever I feel weak I'll have to remind myself of how terrible the lows were and how fucked up my future would be if I were to continue this vicious cycle.

Like most recovered drug users who curse the first day they ever messed with their drug of choice sometimes I wish I never met Pubby. If only I could go back and do it all over again, to spare myself all of the drama of the past months. They say it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I'll have to respectfully disagree. That whole thing I really didn't need. I can't think of anything I gained from it that was worth all the stress. I guess it is what it is. I don't regret it. I know that everything happens for a reason, but if I'd known then what I know now I wouldn't have let things go down quite the same way. Lesson learned, even though I had to get left back five times.

Another thing about drugs, my lovely readers. I make a lot of jokes here, but I'm really serious about this. If any of you are doing drugs please stop. There is nothing cute or fabulous about it. As of late, being out and about, I've been around drug users and it's really not a game. Even if you feel that your addiction is "manageable", that in itself is an oxymoron, nothing about addiction is manageable. You see it all over TV and magazines all these celebrities and starlets, the so-called "Young Hollywood" sect, your Lindsay Lohan's, your Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's, your Britney Spears' and people like that stumbling in and out of clubs and off to rehab centers. This shit is NOT okay. These people have all kinds of issues inside that have led them to act out in such ways and all the money in the world hasn't been able to heal them. There's nothing healthy about this behavior and the fact that young people across the world try to emulate this shit because they think it's cute is crazy. I sure as hell don't get it. I didn't even think that black folks got down with that drug shit like that besides a little weed here and there (and even that isn't good), boy was I wrong. These kids pop pills and sniff coke like its going out of style. And it's not even a new thing, I just never paid much attention to it before, but it was happening right under my nose (forgive the pun). So if you're in a club and someone offers you a drug please just say no. And if you are currently using drugs don't be afraid to get help. And if you have friends that do drugs get them some help too. The last thing I need is to step over some drugged out queen convulsing on a dance floor somewhere, dying over some perfectly avoidable shit. I thought they left that shit in the 80's.

Crack is wack.

Coke is a joke.

Hugs, not drugs.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Rehab"
by Rihanna
from the album "Good Girl, Gone Bad"
and
"Rehab"
by Amy Winehouse
from the album "Back To Black"
and
"Addictive"
by Truth Hurts
from the album "Truthfully Speaking"
and
"Fanatic"
by Vivian Green
from the album "A Love Story"
and
"The Way That I Love You
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
and
"Your Gonna Miss"
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
and
"So Over You"
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
and
"Stepping Stone"
by Duffy
from the album "Rockferry"
"I Wish"
by Carl Thomas
from the album "Emotional"
==========

Well, not to sound conceited or anything but I guess it is what it is... There was a time in my life where I wasn't as good looking as I am now. Not that I'm claiming to be the best looking guy in the world but I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that I'd come a long way. Anyway, it's funny how there are those guys you tried to talk to, holler at, hit up online back in the day and they ignored you, dissed you, played you and paid you dust, you remember them? But then they see you now and their like all up on your dick, in my case literally, but we'll get to that later.

I remember this guy I met online a while back, in the spirit of the Democratic nomination, let's call him Barack. Barack asked me to come by his house and chill with him a while before he went to work, so I did. He answered his door kinda cute, short, lightskinned, petite, just the way I like 'em. He was a dancer too, I like dancers, they're flexible. After some small talk he announced that he was taking a shower. My dick jumped in mischievous delight at the thought that I knew what that gesture meant. When you're chillin' with a dude, especially a bottom, well that's who I always "chill" with so I guess that's all I know, says "I'm taking a shower" or "I'm takin' a shower real quick" that usually means that he's getting ready for sex. I thought we'd get a little quickie in before he went to work. In this case he was really just taking a shower. After the shower he came back into the room, naked and flirty, making sure I got a full view of his ass as he sashayed in and out of the room, getting ready for work. I thought I'd at least get some head out of the deal. No such luck. I walked him to work and that was that. That was until I got home later and over the phone I mentioned to him I was cooking that night. He asked me if I could go back downtown to his job and bring him some of my home cooked dinner. I did, he ate it and I ended up spending the rest of his shift with him. We laughed, we talked, he danced for me seductively. After the night ended I walked him home. As he turned the key and opened his door I leaned in behind him, just knowing that he was gonna let me in. He didn't, instead he turned around, gave me a grandma peck on the lips and never called me again.

Fast forward to December 30th, 2007. Out of the blue I get a call from Barack. He tells me that he'd heard about all the things I'd been doing, namely this blog and then he complimented my pictures. Then he asked me what I was doing for New Year's. At that moment I had no plans, but I certainly wasn't planning to do shit with him, not after the way he played me. We ran into each other on the street once and he's called once since then. I know he wanted to see me again. He was throwing all the obvious hints but I just wouldn't take the bait. Shit, if I wasn't good enough for him back then what the fuck would he think want to do with his ass now? Fuck that shit. Granted, I was horny as shit the day I met him and my mind was on one thing, at least for that moment but he still didn't have to just up and stop calling me. He could've told me that he didn't want to have sex that day, that woulda been cool. He was somebody I would have wanted to actually date, at least from the little I knew then, it wasn't all about sex, but he just kept throwing it in my face. Obviously he wasn't that in to me then and now I'm not into him.

Then there was this other guy, in the spirit of the Republican nomination let's call him McCain. McCain was a guy I hit up quite a few times online back in the day and he paid my ass no mind, just straight up ignored me. I thought he was so fine, but he obviously didn't feel me like that.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. McCain hits me up online on some "Yo, whaddup? What's good?" shit. Even though a while had passed since the times I used to hit him up I knew exactly who he was. His pictures changed but he looked the same. I obviously didn't look the same, so much so that he didn't even recognize me. I hit him back and we ended up having a conversation online which ended with us exchanging numbers. My plan was to get him to my crib, fuck him, send him home and never call him again as my twisted revenge for the way he rejected me. After some thinking I got to thinking about how fucked up that little plan would be so I decided against it and left things alone.

One night a week or so later while at club with friends, who do I run into but McCain. I saw him, I gestured hello and migrated to another area. A few moments later while I'm in the bathroom I get this text from him: "U look really good tonight." I found him on the dance floor again and we started to dance, well, as y'all know I can't really dance, but they were playing reggae music so all I did was stand, backed up against the back wall as he grinded and twirled his ass up on my dick. In the midst of the grinding and twirling and his numerous grabs of my naked dick, his hands sliding down into my pants and underwear, I realized; damn, now that I met him he's not all that attractive to me, partly because of the way he rejected me before and partly because he just wasn't all that attractive to me and he has a tongue ring. I HATE TONGUE RINGS (no offense to my tongue ring wearing readers but hey, ya like what ya like). He was grinding up all over me, into me, feeling me, I should be enjoying this but my dick wouldn't even stay hard.

After that night he was calling my phone HARD. I mean, yeah I coulda had him come to my crib, had him suck my dick, fucked him senseless and sent him on his way, but why? That would be mean, but what's even meaner is just straight ignoring his advances. When someone is basically giving the ass away and the other person doesn't take it, that must make that first person feel like shit, less than shit, shit's shit. So he continued calling me and texting me "Yo pa, what's good?", "When we gon' chill?", "I feel like a stalker, y r u not answering my phone calls?" He's just not getting it. Well, back in the day I didn't get it either, but he'll learn. I did.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"If I Could"
by Dru Hill
from the album "Dru World Order"
==========

So I'm talking to someone new and like all men, he found a new way to fuck shit up, you know with the usual selfish bullshit, story of my blog, story of my life, blah, blah, blah, so not going into details. I can drive down this road with my eyes closed at this point. Just when it seems like things are going well... Whatever, I'm used to it now. This morning as I left his house, pissed that I left my jacket that I'll have to end up having to back come and get later, totally fucking up my dramatic Hollywood exit and even more pissed at developing a tickle in my throat due to this unpredictable spring weather here in New York and the fact that he must sleep under air conditioning, even though it's not even that hot.

I got home and got a call from Derrick (Thank God for good-good girlfriends and bro-sises, what would we ever do without them?) and as we updated each other on our individual situations I began to contemplate on what it's all about, relationships that is and why I even bother anymore, ya know? Just then I began to realize that maybe the simple things that I expect and then reluctantly have to ask repeatedly and damn near beg for from a man may just really be too much for them to handle. At that moment I gave up. I let go of all expectations of finding a man and being happy with him. As much as I don't want to become a bitter, jaded, defeated queen I'm just tired of my story being so tragic. It's like every blog post lately if it's not one of my many shining achievements it's "he did this to me", "he did that..." it's so tragic. I mean, damn, aren't y'all tired of reading that shit, I know I'm damn sure tired of writing it and living it. I remember when my blog used to be fun and people used to laugh. Lately it's just been a downer.

I'm thinking it's because I feel so much. I'm nice, I'm sensitive, I'm loving. It makes me happy to help and love people, especially those who I'm with. I'm letting my heart drive the car and I keep crashing into shit or rather letting shit crash into me, like Janet Jackson or some shit. "I shoulda stopped at the redlight cuz, now I'm like a deer caught in headlights..." "He crashed into my heart..."

A friend of mine at a major publishing house sent me a book called "A$$hole: How I Got Rich And Happy By Not Giving A Damn About Anyone" by Martin Kihn. It's the true story of a man who much like me was a nice guy, trying to make everybody happy, trying not to offend anyone. As a result he was living a mediocre existence, much like the one I swore on this very blog that I wouldn't live. I haven't finished the book yet but the overall message is that people who are little more assertive about their shit and even a little bitchy and asshole-ish about it get what they want in life by being a thinker and not a feeler. As a result I don't feel that it's them, it's him, it's her that hurts or is hurting me as much as I allow myself to be hurt by exposing vulnerable parts of myself to those theys, hims, and hers. They don't expose those parts to me and that's how come they can walk away from me unscathed while I'm drinking until I puke and writing dark poetry, but I digress. One of my secret goals this year was to be a little more bitchy and asshole-ish with people and I have to say that it's been working for me.

As I continued talking with Derrick I walked I went over to make myself a cup of tea for my throat. As I listened intently to Derrick, dipping my tea bag up and down in the hot water, allowing it to steep I noticed something that I never saw before. There was writing on the back of the little paper handle that's attached to the string of my tea bag, it was a quote. Since when did they start putting quotes on tea bag handles? I was halfway through the box of tea bags and I'd never noticed this before until today. I read the handle:

"The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think" -Horace Walpole (1717 - 1797)

Nuff said.

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Playing In The Background...
"Luv"
by Janet Jackson
from the album "Discipline"
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I've started typing this blog post at almost 4am, early Easter Sunday morning. This seems to be the only time I have to actually sit and blog nowadays, I've been ridiculously busy lately. My head hurts a little, probably from all the wine I drank today, yesterday I should say. I should be asleep right now but I know I haven't really blogged, blogged with y'all in a minute. We haven't talked in a while, me and you, my reading public. I value you guys more than you realize. Remember, if you see me on the street don't be afraid to come up and say "Hi." I realize that we all may not know each other personally, but some of the opinions, advice, and straight up fierce ballroom girl reads that we've shared over the past thirteen months have been more substantial in my life than those I've shared with people I've known for years. Anyway, thanks, keep the cards and letters coming.

Last Easter, Sunday, April 8th, 2007, I wrote a blog post entitled "Companionship. An Idea Resurrected", in which I spilled the beans that I was in a relationship. Oddly enough this Easter I find myself in the same situation, but with a different man, obviously, but for some of you not so different. I'll explain later. Like our Lord Jesus, companionship, a notion I thought was pretty much dead for me again has miraculously managed to rise again. It's Sunday now but I originally started this post last Friday (Good Friday) morning.

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I woke up early this Good Friday morning at about 7:30. It's not that I actually wake up that early on the regular, I just had to pee really bad. As I rose from my bed I saw him there asleep, curled up like a little shrimp (I know it's a bad simile, but it's accurate), I smiled. A few moments later when I came back to bed he scooted back into me, we spooned and fell back asleep. Looking at him I thought about all we'd been through to get to this moment and I silently thanked God for it all, the good and the bad. I also thanked God for all that Jesus had gone through on this day, thousands of years ago. A Good Friday indeed.

Last time we talked I was dating Mr. Bojangles, the dancer who was also a virgin, remember him? Well things didn't work out between us. It didn't end badly and he's a great guy, very nice, cute, comes from good stock. He's definitely the quote-unquote "perfect guy" on paper, he's just wasn't perfect for me. And who the fuck was I kidding, me and a virgin, c'mon, it was doomed before it started. Even with all that, sex itself, or in this case the lack thereof wasn't the deal breaking issue for us, well, rather me. Obviously I knew going in that we weren't having sex and I was cool with that, I mean, I guess we'd have sex someday, when we're ready, when he's ready, after a few moths or so, right? But like most twenty-something virgins, Mr. Bojangles seemed to vilify sex, like it was a bad thing and I actually felt uncomfortable talking about sex or being sexual around him. I'm a guy, I'm a sexual guy, I like sex, I talk about sex, I write about sex, I make sexual jokes sometimes, but I couldn't really do that around him. He just seemed so prudent at times. It made me uncomfortable. But even that wasn't the real reason why I broke things off with him. As nice as it was being with him just didn't feel right.

So, being with Mr. Bojangles wasn't right, being with '08 wasn't right, being with Winston wasn't right. As nice as all these guys were and as much as they all genuinely liked me, I broke it off with all of them. Why? I know why, I know exactly why. But I was afraid to say, afraid to write, but I know why. It's because I still have feelings for Pubby. As hard as that was for me to say, as embarrassing and humiliating as it is to say, especially after all the times we'd broken up and gotten back together and all the declarations I made, vowing to never speak to him again after the way he hurt me with his neglect and indecisiveness. I can't help it. I missed him. We had our bad times but when we're together it was great, like we were the only two people in the world, looking into his eyes and him looking in mine. Even after our thing was all over I thought often of him. Little did I know he was still thinking of me too.

//===> SIDE NOTE: If you're new and have no idea who Pubby is. The best way to get into our saga is to read the "Dating" section of the blog from January 9th, 2008 back to September 18th, 2007. he's all in there. I mean you ain't gotta read everything, just give it a liberal skim just to catch yourself up. <===//

It went down like this. Pubby and I had our final knock-down, drag-out argument via email and text message via text and email right before New Years. We said a lot of mean things to each other. That day, December 30th, 2007 I believe, I decided that I didn't wanna take this dysfunctional, one-sided, relationship-like thing we had into a New Year. Although I still had feelings for him, that day was the day those feelings started to fade. As usual, after our breakups he extended the option to me to remain friends and as usual after our breakups I didn't accept it because I figured that the best and fastest way to get him out of my system was to remove him from my life altogether. Besides, I wanted to be his man, not his friend, fuck that shit.

So for a few weeks we didn't talk and reluctantly, I was back on the dating scene, totally unhappy. He went back to his ex. A relationship which he has described as on and off, rocky and tumultuous for a good part of the few years they'd been together. Every so often he would text me and I'd text back. We had textual small talk, so to speak, which would usually end when one of us got bored and stopped the text chain. We even grew to having conversations as friends. Even though I was trying my best to be friendly, I still longed for Pubby. But I fell back because he was back with his ex. No matter how good you are and no matter how much you bring to the table, the one thing you can't fuck with is history, history, experiences and memories. I also figured that the reason why he basically chose his ex over me is because his ex is "that guy", I mean that's what they tell me.

Let me explain who "that guy" is. Pubby and I are total opposites, he likes to party, I like to stay home, he's a socialite, working the crowd, I'm a homebody, who'd rather chill with just me and my people, he wears Gucci, I wear the Gap. People like him and his ex are "that guy" and I'm "the other guy". We're your basic opposites attract story, like "The Odd Couple". He's the Felix Unger to my Oscar Madison. If this were "Sex And the City" I'd be the Aidan Shaw to his Carrie Bradshaw, which is hilarious because people call me "the black gay Carrie Bradshaw". But anyway, he's creme brulee and I'm "granola", as Samantha Jones would say. The thing about me though is that I'm perfectly happy being granola, Gap & Levi's, plain construction Timbs and all white Nikes, mid-priced retail guy. Shit, say what you want about granola, it's not the fanciest food in the world, you probably won't see it in the fancy haute cuisine magazines, but granola is solid, filling and healthy. Once you crack through the hard fancy shell of creme brulee all you're left with is some cheap-ass, glorified Jell-O pudding that will leave you hungry again in an hour.

Though I enjoy it in Pubby, and I think he looks great, I personally have no desire to be high fashion, socialite guy. I don't even like clubs and I can't stand being around all those shady, fake-ass people. It just makes me wanna run to the DJ booth, grab the mic and yell out: "Where all the real niggas at?" But I guess I'm just ghetto that way. I'd rather go out to Applebee's, TGIFridays, or BBQ's or even a nicer restaurant or even just a nice bar and just eat, drink and wild out with my people. Fuck pretenses and cliques and labels and shit, you know how much money those people spend on clothes, it's insane. I have much better ways to spend my hard earned money. Fuck Balenciaga and McQueen and Gucci and all them, I'd much rather have my dude look good naked than with all that label shit on. Who cares? Surprisingly, Pubby actually likes my outlook on things, he calls me practical, he says somebody has to be.

Like I said, Pubby's ex, like him is also "that guy", another creme brulee. I met him once, he seems nice enough, nothing against him, but that life's not for me. I also know that as cute as a secluded moonlight stroll on the granola side of town is for a creme brulee like Pubby, I also live in the real would and in the real world you don't often find creme brulee and granola served at the same restaurant. Jean Georges don't serve no damn granola and Applebees don't know what the a fuck creme brulee is. So where does that leave us? As much as he liked me, would he be truly comfortable having my unabashedly granola ass around his friends in their candy coated creme brulee world is the question. And as much as I liked him how much creme brulee could I stomach is my next question. So that's where we were left December 30th, breaking up for the third time, with him saying that we were incompatible and me telling him to go fuck himself for wasting my time. As time went on I accepted that even though a part of me still wanted him, that we were just too different for it to work and even though there was magic when we were alone, we couldn't lay up in bed forever. We had to face the world sometime.

One afternoon last month Pubby invited me to a friendly, catch up lunch with him. We dined at one of the restaurants inside the Metropolitan Museum Of Art. Since at that point I was technically over Pubby, newly dating Mr. Bojangles, I did something I'd never done. I went to that lunch with Pubby looking a total mess. I had some regular jeans on, my fucked up gray New Balance workout sneakers (I was going to the gym after lunch) and a hoodie that I paid $19.99 for at Modells. I was in need of a haircut and I had my glasses on. He'd never seen me so rough before, since Pubby was so fancy I always felt a need to impress him with my appearance, I mean at least as much as a hunk of granola possibly could. But at that point, his toothbrush was in the garbage and we were officially over, fuck the bullshit, who the fuck was he that I had to impress him, fuck that. He saw the real fuckin' me that day. The funny thing is that he never commented on my appearance. He was just happy to see me again, it'd been so long.

As we talked I could see the hurt in his eyes as he talked about the break up of him and his ex, the final nail in the coffin. He went on to tell me about the new guys he was seeing at the time. They sounded pretty wack to me, that shit wasn't gonna last, I know Pubby and I knew he wasn't really into those dudes like that. Filled with all the hope that the prospect of a new relationship brings I told him about Mr. Bojangles and he was equally as impressed. The defining moment of our meeting is when he turned to me, looked into my eyes and said something to the effect of:

"I know we've gone through a lot of shit but I've always thought that once I got my shit together and you got you shit together that somehow we'd end up together."

I always thought the same thing.

Fast forward to a few weeks later and here we are, together. Throwing caution to the wind and saying fuck the world and fuck everyone else who doesn't see it, bitches better open their eyes or get some fuckin' glasses or bifocals or contacts some shit. Although things have been going great, for us so far the going hasn't always been easy, especially for me. If you've been reading you'll know that Pubby hurt me real bad last time around. How will I know he won't hurt me again? I don't. (That's why I wrote this poem.) All I can do is trust him. Well I'm not just trusting in him blindly, I'm not that stupid. My trust is being built through his actions. Remember my relationship theory:

"If a man really wants to do something he will do it. Period."

I'm talking about effort. We're gy but we're also men and if a man wants you he's gonna make an effort toward you. Phone calls, text messages, dates, visits, show me you want me nigga. So far he's been on point, passing every test. I'm not sure what happened when we were apart but Pubby is like a different person now, like Damascus Road different. I even teased him and asked him whether he'd had a visit from the Ghost Of Christmas Future. He's so attentive and caring and real now, it's almost scary. The cynical faggot inside me perpetually asks the question of whether it's just a phase, but if I'm gonna be happy I can't give in to that.

Now I'm seeing past all the superficial shit. Sure he's still a party boy who likes fashion and labels, that's not gonna change and I'm cool with that, but he's also my dude that I can eat bad Chinese food with, on the bed, chillin, watching "John Tucker Must Die" (smile). He's opened up to me now. I get to see the Pubby that the world doesn't get to see. Behind the makeup, ponytails (smile), smoke and mirrors and I realized that we're not so totally different after all. I always thought that all that fierceness and indecision was just a defense mechanism anyway. It was. He told me that he's wanted to be with me for a while, but was fighting it tooth and nail, scared of opening up and being hurt again. He recently told me that he's stopped fighting. Call me crazy, call me a fool, but I'm happy. We'll see.

HAPPY EASTER!

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Playing In The Background...
"Fallin'"
by Alicia Keys
from the album "Songs In A-Minor"
and
"Clumsy"
by Fergie
from the album "The Dutchess"
and
"Trippin' (That's the Way Love Works)"
by Toni Braxton
from the album "Libra"
and
"Still Open"
by Syleena Johnson
from the album "Chapter 3 - The Flesh"
and
"Opposites Attract"
by Paula Abdul
from the album "Forever Your Girl"
and
"Bump What Ya Friends Say"
by Fantasia
from the album "Fantasia"
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Today's Throwback Blog Post:
See, The Reason Why My Relationships Never Work Out Is… (Part 1)
Originally posted April 7th, 2007
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