Around this time last year I went out with a guy in the most literal sense of the term - we went out with each other every weekend for about a month. I remember this because one day, knowing I'm an English major, he informed me it was "Talk Like Shakespeare Day," which was, I believe, last Friday. We texted each other a lot back then and, since we never got to see each other during the week, on Wednesdays or Thursdays he'd suggest we schedule a time to catch up over the phone. I wouldn't call it a relationship, since I suppose neither of us took it very seriously, but we did have good chemistry while it lasted.
That in itself is a distinction, but I also consider this guy my first experience with "adult dating" - that is, I met him at a bar, an adult locale, as opposed to somewhere sophomoric like a website or an apartment party, and went through motions I previously only saw in movies: "Can I get you a drink?" "Sure, let me get your number." And then we did the whole casual dating thing, and it seemed like such a novelty at the time...(still does).
He realized I'm too young for him after a bit, which may or may not be true (he's not that much older), and I've run into him only intermittently since (the last time was in January and involved a very public, very drunken, display of affection). Still, I'm very well-disposed towards the guy.
I bring this up because I ran into him a few weeks ago and things were considerably less emphatic. Not that I expect a large, wet kiss each time I see him (he wasn't nearly drunk enough anyway), but even the small talk was painfully forced: "Hi, what's new?" - "Oh, nothing much..." - "Still at your old place? I thought you moved." - "Yup, still there..." It was so perfunctory, so awkward, and just as quickly as we met, we parted ways.
I guess I find it a little odd to think this guy whose company I used to enjoy, whom I used to talk all the time, is now for most intents and purposes a stranger. But at the same time, I realize it's naive to think people will become friends after the dating stage is over. This type of thing isn't really uncommon anyway.
Then again, I'm a hoarder. I collect things for sentimental value and stash them away even when realistically I know I'll never take them out again. I think if I could I'd do the same with guys, keeping them, however ostensibly, as "friends."
Is this what adult dating is like?
Showing posts with label Boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boys. Show all posts
4.29.2010
3.27.2010
Gold & Lead
The Roman Poet Ovid, known for his scandalous verses on sex, tells an instructionary tale about Cupid.Cupid's arrows come not in one type, but two: some are sharp and tipped with gold; these induce desire. The others are dull and end with lead; these repel desire and cause repulsion or indifference.
With me these arrows never come in matching pairs - that is, both gold or both lead. Instead, feelings are never mutual. If I like someone, he invariably finds me distasteful, and if someone likes me - which happens once in a blue moon - the affections are typically unwelcome.
(Or the attraction is mutual..but he turns out to be a jerk with questionable scruples and an awful personality. Or he loses interest after an embarrassingly short amount of time. Anyway...)
I'm always uncomfortable when the latter happens and I find myself having to turn someone down. In fact, it would be accurate to say I have a moral crisis each time: I know how bad it sucks to be on the receiving end of rejection, and I hate to think I'm inflicting the same damage on another person's self-esteem. Michael tries to convince me it's a necessary evil and just something to get used to, but I still feel awful, like I'll have to volunteer at a homeless shelter to make amends. Any tips for not feeling so badly?
Luckily this doesn't happen very often and I'm usually the one with the burn notice - which is fine, because I get to play the victim all I want. (lol) But even on that side of things, I haven't met any eligible young man lately - guys that give me the giddy, "ah-ha!" feeling - and it's a little dismaying, if only because puppy love is fun and exciting and I need new and refreshing ways to delude myself. :)
On some level I want to emulate the disdainful youth of comedy and folklore who disparages falling in love, but even this involves some trickery. In the end these characters always fall the hardest, smitten by that god whose powers they've denied. In a way, it's like challenging Cupid: "C'mon. Shoot me. Show me what you got." I'm an unwilling target - at least on the surface.
3.05.2010
Where's Your Daddy?
Don't worry: I haven't developed a fetish for older men. That's a subset of gay culture I've never participated in. But, there are two celebrity DILFs I'd go for - and one of them might surprise you.
1). Christoper Meloni - Law & Order DILF
What a hunk. Manly, broad-shouldered, wide-chested - yep, Detective Stabler could feel me for weapons, handcuff me, and take me downtown anytime.
2). Nigel Marvin - Animal Planet DILF
Don't laugh at me - I am completely serious. Nigel Marvin is adorable. I think it's because he's a zoological dork. Or his British accent. Plus he's always running through savanna and scuba-diving with sharks, so you know he's in great shape.
1). Christoper Meloni - Law & Order DILF
What a hunk. Manly, broad-shouldered, wide-chested - yep, Detective Stabler could feel me for weapons, handcuff me, and take me downtown anytime.
2). Nigel Marvin - Animal Planet DILF
Don't laugh at me - I am completely serious. Nigel Marvin is adorable. I think it's because he's a zoological dork. Or his British accent. Plus he's always running through savanna and scuba-diving with sharks, so you know he's in great shape.
1.03.2010
When It Rains...
...it pours. Men, that is.
In the past week, I have
1) been asked out by an acquaintance...and botched things with him....
2) because I kissed a guy I used to talk to in front of him. (It was insensitive, but not entirely wrong of me.)
3) had a third person develop feelings for me.
4) was contacted by the guy from this post after not expecting to hear from him again.
Where is all this coming from? At this rate I'll have to change what I tell people about my love life ("Nothing goes on, I promise you" :P). Luckily this type of thing couldn't possibly last much longer: all this activity is really abnormal for me and, honestly, not a whole lot of fun. I'm pretty drained. Guys, please, take a number.
I'm really satisfied with #4, though. I'm glad we could talk about what happened between us after all this time. I feel like some bad karma's been lifted. Now I'm really on a clean slate where guys are concerned for the new year. And if the first week is any indicator, this year might be a lot busier than expected...or than is really desirable. Time will tell!
In the past week, I have
1) been asked out by an acquaintance...and botched things with him....
2) because I kissed a guy I used to talk to in front of him. (It was insensitive, but not entirely wrong of me.)
3) had a third person develop feelings for me.
4) was contacted by the guy from this post after not expecting to hear from him again.
Where is all this coming from? At this rate I'll have to change what I tell people about my love life ("Nothing goes on, I promise you" :P). Luckily this type of thing couldn't possibly last much longer: all this activity is really abnormal for me and, honestly, not a whole lot of fun. I'm pretty drained. Guys, please, take a number.
I'm really satisfied with #4, though. I'm glad we could talk about what happened between us after all this time. I feel like some bad karma's been lifted. Now I'm really on a clean slate where guys are concerned for the new year. And if the first week is any indicator, this year might be a lot busier than expected...or than is really desirable. Time will tell!
11.21.2009
Spot the Minority
Sometimes being gay and Asian means a lot of nights watching white boys neck each other.
Went to a small get-together of gay guys tonight, most of whom I did not know. Of the two that were my friends, one was on a date and brought the day's catch with him.
As if the cards weren't already stacked against me, I came down with strep throat earlier this week and my doctor gave me a ten-day antibiotic regimen. That means I couldn't drink and had to sit out an hour-long game of Kings.
And then they played Spin-the-Bottle. Spin-the-fucking-bottle. Of all the things they could have done, they chose a blow-back from middle school that I thought people only played in sorority movies - and the most painfully exclusive, ostracizing game anyone at a party can hope to be left out of.
"Are you playing?" one of them asked.
"Sorry, I'm sick," I said, thinking I wouldn't want to kiss any of them anyways. (Not entirely true, but I was full of righteous indignation.)
"Okay, the Asian's not playing," said the guy holding the bottle.
Excuse me? The nerve of that guy - I don't care if he didn't mean anything by it; you don't go referring to people by their races in earshot - that's just rude.
I spent the next hour watching these guys go from cheek to lips to open mouth and tongue, and then eventually to ass-grabbing and against-the-wall. Mike, my friend with the date, kept encouraging me to play, but there was no way I'd kiss someone with a throat infection this bad. That is common courtesy, something at least one of these guys didn't seem to understand.
I ended up leaving early; one friend, the one I'd driven there, decided to crash, and Mike was leaving with his Catch . I can hear the snide remarks already: as soon as the door closed shut, the bottle-holder says, "I'm glad that Asian was sick and didn't play," as everyone nods approvingly.
When did Spot the Minority become a party game?
Went to a small get-together of gay guys tonight, most of whom I did not know. Of the two that were my friends, one was on a date and brought the day's catch with him.
As if the cards weren't already stacked against me, I came down with strep throat earlier this week and my doctor gave me a ten-day antibiotic regimen. That means I couldn't drink and had to sit out an hour-long game of Kings.
And then they played Spin-the-Bottle. Spin-the-fucking-bottle. Of all the things they could have done, they chose a blow-back from middle school that I thought people only played in sorority movies - and the most painfully exclusive, ostracizing game anyone at a party can hope to be left out of.
"Are you playing?" one of them asked.
"Sorry, I'm sick," I said, thinking I wouldn't want to kiss any of them anyways. (Not entirely true, but I was full of righteous indignation.)
"Okay, the Asian's not playing," said the guy holding the bottle.
Excuse me? The nerve of that guy - I don't care if he didn't mean anything by it; you don't go referring to people by their races in earshot - that's just rude.
I spent the next hour watching these guys go from cheek to lips to open mouth and tongue, and then eventually to ass-grabbing and against-the-wall. Mike, my friend with the date, kept encouraging me to play, but there was no way I'd kiss someone with a throat infection this bad. That is common courtesy, something at least one of these guys didn't seem to understand.
I ended up leaving early; one friend, the one I'd driven there, decided to crash, and Mike was leaving with his Catch . I can hear the snide remarks already: as soon as the door closed shut, the bottle-holder says, "I'm glad that Asian was sick and didn't play," as everyone nods approvingly.
When did Spot the Minority become a party game?
7.09.2009
The Return of Prince Charming
Remember Prince Charming? He and I have been hanging out lately, and I've got to say I'm surprised how much we have in common. At the very least, I don't know anyone else who gets quite as excited about Mesopotamian artifacts, or who can discuss the Aeneid, Book IV, having read it in Latin. Gay and nerdy: just the kind of friend I need.
I remember how intimidated I was when we first met. Approaching cute guys is not my strong point. Just goes to show, you miss out on some pretty cool people when if you let looks decide everything.
I remember how intimidated I was when we first met. Approaching cute guys is not my strong point. Just goes to show, you miss out on some pretty cool people when if you let looks decide everything.
***
On a completely unrelated note, I took my first Chem exam yesterday. The grade? A whopping sixty-five percent. My room mate suggests dropping the class for now and taking it at a junior college later if I decide to try nursing again. Other people are convinced I can still pull off a B. I'm not quite so sure. Decisions, decisions...
6.09.2009
Womping through Boystown
When I was in high school, I did a lot of LGBTQ youth activities. Ostensibly the other kids and I went to learn about safe sex and coming out in a supportive environment...but I suppose most of us just wanted to get laid.
With that in mind, I decided to check out the youth program at Center on Halsted. I debated for a while whether or not I'm getting too old for this type of thing, but figured it would be a simple trip now that I live in the city and that I had nothing to lose.
But things are always more interesting in Boystown.
When I arrived at Center, the receptionist was busy on the phone, so I waited at the counter browsing through a stack of free pamphlets. I was there for barely a minute when I heard a scratchy voice beside me say, "Hello, what are you up to over here?"
I turned around and an old man was smiling at me. He had a bush of frizzy white hair and a beard to match. At first I wondered if he might be another staff member filling in for the front desk, but when I looked for reassurance the receptionist was still on the phone, oblivious to my predicament. No, I was on my own with this one.
Being the polite (and rather cowardly) person I am, I looked back at the old man and said, "Oh, I'm new to the area. I'm just checking things out."
"Really? Where are you from?"
"Um, the...suburbs?"
"Which?"
"Uh...the west suburbs."
"Oh, that's pretty far out there."
"Uh, yeah, but...now I'm here for school." (You may be wondering why, despite my better interests, I have not stopped the conversation. I really couldn't say.)
"Oh really? Where is it you go to school?"
(Crap.) "Um, in the south loop."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Hm. It's a beautiful day outside, isn't it?"
"Yes. Yes, it is. That's why I made it out here, actually."
"Well, would you like to have a seat and chat for a bit?"
By this time, I decided the old man did not, in all likelihood, work for the Center. "Actually, I'm here for the youth program," I said, "and I think it's starting soon. Thanks though."
He seemed to take this well enough - at least, he never stopped smiling. He shook my hand, said "Nice meeting you," and left. I breathed a sigh of relief.
It occurred to me afterward that this man was Shylock from The Merchant of Venice:
By this time the receptionist - a rather handsome older man with gentle features - was off the phone. I asked about the group. "You need to go through orientation for that," was his reply. "You can come back Wednesday."
One would think such useful information would be on the Center's website. Womp, womp.
The day was still warm and sunnt after I left the Center so I decided to take a stroll through Boystown and people-watch. I went about two blocks before I saw the cutest guy heading towards me. He seemed right about my age (a welcome sight), and wore gym shorts and a t-shirt under which I could tell he had a runner's body. He also sported just the right amount of facial hair in the form of a neat, well-kept goatee (very sexy if you can pull it off!).
When he was a few feet away, I summoned all my nerve and gave him with a smile.
And then the impossible happened. This cute, cute guy stopped in his tracks, looked me straight in the eye, and said: "Hey, could you help me with something?"
Yes, of course. Anything.
"Could you answer a few questions for me? I'm doing a survey for my church down the street."
Womp, womp, womp.
He asked me things like how important spirituality is to me, what websites I visit the most, what the last book I read more than once was. I answered him as if we were flirting: Very, Facebook, Homer's Odyssey. It couldn't hurt to try.
The final question he asked was if I'd like his group to pray about something for me. I almost said, "Yeah, my love life. You've proven I need it."
After Sexy Church Boy left, I decided to call it a day. I walked another few blocks to the next bus stop and waited for the #8. Unfortunately, I soon learned that street corners in Boystown are very conspicuous spots to be standing.
A very handsome older man came walking down the street. He was at least two heads taller than me with a broad, muscular chest and a very chiseled jaw dusted with golden stubble. (He also had a really nice butt.)
As he walked past, I stole a glance at him out of curiosity. I'll admit it: I wondered if those stories were true, about men who walk around Boystown, picking up guys through mere exchange of glances. (Can you see how I set myself up for trouble?)
Bad, bad idea: the moment I looked up, he was doing one of those over-the-shoulder glances - at me. Crap. I panicked for a second and pretended I was looking down the street for a bus, but the connection had already been made: he thought I was making an exaggerated motion to look at him.
I immediately froze and stared at my feet, but from the corner of my eye I watched him walk away. He looked back at me three or four more times, and actually stood for a minute at the street corner, feigning nonchalance, in case I were to follow. My Boystown myth had been confirmed.
On a side note, I think gay men live their lives in peripheral. Whether it's checking out the straight guy in class, or looking at that rival you pretend not to know but secretly resent for being cuter than you, or stealing looks at potential sexual predators - it's all in the peripheral.
I have to say I'm amused by what can happen in a single hour in Boystown. That's why I like the neighborhood on a nice day: there's such an open atmosphere, and so many characters walking around. Even if the soundtrack goes "Womp, womp" every few minutes.
With that in mind, I decided to check out the youth program at Center on Halsted. I debated for a while whether or not I'm getting too old for this type of thing, but figured it would be a simple trip now that I live in the city and that I had nothing to lose.
But things are always more interesting in Boystown.
***
When I arrived at Center, the receptionist was busy on the phone, so I waited at the counter browsing through a stack of free pamphlets. I was there for barely a minute when I heard a scratchy voice beside me say, "Hello, what are you up to over here?"
I turned around and an old man was smiling at me. He had a bush of frizzy white hair and a beard to match. At first I wondered if he might be another staff member filling in for the front desk, but when I looked for reassurance the receptionist was still on the phone, oblivious to my predicament. No, I was on my own with this one.
Being the polite (and rather cowardly) person I am, I looked back at the old man and said, "Oh, I'm new to the area. I'm just checking things out."
"Really? Where are you from?"
"Um, the...suburbs?"
"Which?"
"Uh...the west suburbs."
"Oh, that's pretty far out there."
"Uh, yeah, but...now I'm here for school." (You may be wondering why, despite my better interests, I have not stopped the conversation. I really couldn't say.)
"Oh really? Where is it you go to school?"
(Crap.) "Um, in the south loop."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Hm. It's a beautiful day outside, isn't it?"
"Yes. Yes, it is. That's why I made it out here, actually."
"Well, would you like to have a seat and chat for a bit?"
By this time, I decided the old man did not, in all likelihood, work for the Center. "Actually, I'm here for the youth program," I said, "and I think it's starting soon. Thanks though."
He seemed to take this well enough - at least, he never stopped smiling. He shook my hand, said "Nice meeting you," and left. I breathed a sigh of relief.
It occurred to me afterward that this man was Shylock from The Merchant of Venice:
By this time the receptionist - a rather handsome older man with gentle features - was off the phone. I asked about the group. "You need to go through orientation for that," was his reply. "You can come back Wednesday."
One would think such useful information would be on the Center's website. Womp, womp.
***
The day was still warm and sunnt after I left the Center so I decided to take a stroll through Boystown and people-watch. I went about two blocks before I saw the cutest guy heading towards me. He seemed right about my age (a welcome sight), and wore gym shorts and a t-shirt under which I could tell he had a runner's body. He also sported just the right amount of facial hair in the form of a neat, well-kept goatee (very sexy if you can pull it off!).
When he was a few feet away, I summoned all my nerve and gave him with a smile.
And then the impossible happened. This cute, cute guy stopped in his tracks, looked me straight in the eye, and said: "Hey, could you help me with something?"
Yes, of course. Anything.
"Could you answer a few questions for me? I'm doing a survey for my church down the street."
Womp, womp, womp.
He asked me things like how important spirituality is to me, what websites I visit the most, what the last book I read more than once was. I answered him as if we were flirting: Very, Facebook, Homer's Odyssey. It couldn't hurt to try.
The final question he asked was if I'd like his group to pray about something for me. I almost said, "Yeah, my love life. You've proven I need it."
***
After Sexy Church Boy left, I decided to call it a day. I walked another few blocks to the next bus stop and waited for the #8. Unfortunately, I soon learned that street corners in Boystown are very conspicuous spots to be standing.
A very handsome older man came walking down the street. He was at least two heads taller than me with a broad, muscular chest and a very chiseled jaw dusted with golden stubble. (He also had a really nice butt.)
As he walked past, I stole a glance at him out of curiosity. I'll admit it: I wondered if those stories were true, about men who walk around Boystown, picking up guys through mere exchange of glances. (Can you see how I set myself up for trouble?)
Bad, bad idea: the moment I looked up, he was doing one of those over-the-shoulder glances - at me. Crap. I panicked for a second and pretended I was looking down the street for a bus, but the connection had already been made: he thought I was making an exaggerated motion to look at him.
I immediately froze and stared at my feet, but from the corner of my eye I watched him walk away. He looked back at me three or four more times, and actually stood for a minute at the street corner, feigning nonchalance, in case I were to follow. My Boystown myth had been confirmed.
On a side note, I think gay men live their lives in peripheral. Whether it's checking out the straight guy in class, or looking at that rival you pretend not to know but secretly resent for being cuter than you, or stealing looks at potential sexual predators - it's all in the peripheral.
***
I have to say I'm amused by what can happen in a single hour in Boystown. That's why I like the neighborhood on a nice day: there's such an open atmosphere, and so many characters walking around. Even if the soundtrack goes "Womp, womp" every few minutes.
5.01.2009
Boys and Balls (Part II)
I spotted Prince Charming having dinner in the cafeteria yesterday. I was sitting in another section though, so he never saw me, and of course I was too nervous to go say anything. (Well, actually, I've been under the impression he's not altogether interested in getting to know each other, so I decided to make myself scarce.)
Immediately after dinner, I went upstairs to a friend's room and checked my Facebook. Prince Charming had written on my wall. He said:
"So you told me I would see you in the dorms a lot. I think you lied, because I have yet to see you!"
Oh, the irony. This could only happen to me.
I think I'm supposed to learn something from this. Like how I should just say hi next time, or not let fear of rejection keep me from making new friends.
Immediately after dinner, I went upstairs to a friend's room and checked my Facebook. Prince Charming had written on my wall. He said:
"So you told me I would see you in the dorms a lot. I think you lied, because I have yet to see you!"
Oh, the irony. This could only happen to me.
I think I'm supposed to learn something from this. Like how I should just say hi next time, or not let fear of rejection keep me from making new friends.
* * * * *
It also occurred to me that, since the link to this blog is available on my Facebook page, Prince Charming could conceivably be reading this post right now. He could be pointing at the screen and laughing. He could even be a little perturbed I call him "Prince Charming" - I mean, how creepy is that?
But I hope that's not the case. I hope he thinks it's cute and flattering and maybe he wants to take me up on hanging out sometime. And then maybe I could explain myself. Maybe.
But I hope that's not the case. I hope he thinks it's cute and flattering and maybe he wants to take me up on hanging out sometime. And then maybe I could explain myself. Maybe.
4.13.2009
Boys and Balls
I don't usually have a hard time making new friends, except when it comes to making gay friends. I get all nervous and paranoid - probably because asking a guy to hang out on platonic terms resembles so closely asking a guy out on a date.
Case in point: I met the cutest guy at my friend's birthday party this weekend.
That someone new was at the party is remarkable in itself; that he was also gay is downright amazing. My friend throws parties all the time, but attendants are more or less the same at each one, and always entirely heterosexual.
Prince Charming didn't know anyone there; he came with someone who knew someone who knew the birthday boy, and I caught him standing by himself in the corner, sipping a beer and looking cute. I admit, I was excited; I'm sorely lacking in chances to make gay friends. Plus, did I mention he was cute? So, with some encouragement from friends (and a little alcohol), I managed to introduce myself and make conversation.
I found out later we were chatting for about a half hour together. He said he studied abroad last semester(!) in Greece (!) and saw the Acropolis every day. His major is in Middle Eastern History, and I believe he's taking Arabic. Sometimes, I learned, he likes to have a drink in Boystown.
Taking that as my cue, I suggested he and I go together sometime and reached for my cell phone. I took it out but, before I could say anything, he said, "Sure, why don't you add me on Facebook?"
I was taken slightly aback by this, but didn't press for his number. Instead, I took down his last name and told him I'd add him soon.
Hm. I'm very often accused of being overly paranoid or pessimistic when it comes to guys, but I can't shake the suspicion that, if he were actually interested in continuing our conversation at another time and place, he'd have given me his number. I suspect that suggesting I add him on Facebook when my cell phone is clearly out in front of me is just a cover. It really means, "I'm not interested, but you can friend-request me if it gets me out of telling you here and now and to your face."
Of course, other people have proposed differing views. He's interested enough, says one, but is being cautious to whom he gives his number. He'd rather filter me through Facebook first. This idea is reasonable. Another is that he's not much of a phone person, and he'll get me his number later once we talk online. This is possible too. My friends are quick to point out Prince Charming and I talked for quite a bit, and that this must be a good sign. This is true, but I remind them that Prince Charming didn't know anyone at the ball, and talking to his beer instead would have been strange.
In any case, I'm not sure what I'll do. I've looked him up, but haven't added him yet. I'm nervous. I don't have a great track record with other gay guys - as friends or otherwise - and I don't need anymore proof of it. But I'd love to get to know the guy; he seemed really cool. At the very least, I want to hear more about his time in Greece!
I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens.
Case in point: I met the cutest guy at my friend's birthday party this weekend.
That someone new was at the party is remarkable in itself; that he was also gay is downright amazing. My friend throws parties all the time, but attendants are more or less the same at each one, and always entirely heterosexual.
Prince Charming didn't know anyone there; he came with someone who knew someone who knew the birthday boy, and I caught him standing by himself in the corner, sipping a beer and looking cute. I admit, I was excited; I'm sorely lacking in chances to make gay friends. Plus, did I mention he was cute? So, with some encouragement from friends (and a little alcohol), I managed to introduce myself and make conversation.
I found out later we were chatting for about a half hour together. He said he studied abroad last semester(!) in Greece (!) and saw the Acropolis every day. His major is in Middle Eastern History, and I believe he's taking Arabic. Sometimes, I learned, he likes to have a drink in Boystown.
Taking that as my cue, I suggested he and I go together sometime and reached for my cell phone. I took it out but, before I could say anything, he said, "Sure, why don't you add me on Facebook?"
I was taken slightly aback by this, but didn't press for his number. Instead, I took down his last name and told him I'd add him soon.
Hm. I'm very often accused of being overly paranoid or pessimistic when it comes to guys, but I can't shake the suspicion that, if he were actually interested in continuing our conversation at another time and place, he'd have given me his number. I suspect that suggesting I add him on Facebook when my cell phone is clearly out in front of me is just a cover. It really means, "I'm not interested, but you can friend-request me if it gets me out of telling you here and now and to your face."
Of course, other people have proposed differing views. He's interested enough, says one, but is being cautious to whom he gives his number. He'd rather filter me through Facebook first. This idea is reasonable. Another is that he's not much of a phone person, and he'll get me his number later once we talk online. This is possible too. My friends are quick to point out Prince Charming and I talked for quite a bit, and that this must be a good sign. This is true, but I remind them that Prince Charming didn't know anyone at the ball, and talking to his beer instead would have been strange.
In any case, I'm not sure what I'll do. I've looked him up, but haven't added him yet. I'm nervous. I don't have a great track record with other gay guys - as friends or otherwise - and I don't need anymore proof of it. But I'd love to get to know the guy; he seemed really cool. At the very least, I want to hear more about his time in Greece!
I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens.
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