Third in a series. Click here for Part 1, about deciding what my dating profile should look like, and here for Part 2, about coming to terms with bad behavior on the app.
You know the old story: boy breaks up with boy. Boy, single, downloads a dating app at the suggestion of his ex. Boy stays single for three years but at least get a lot of writing material out of being single, writes a lot about simultaneously pooping and sexting. Boy meets boy on the app. Boy invites boy to visit, and boys fall in love and start a relationship. Boys discuss deleting app, but then boys do something unexpected: they stay on the app.
And that’s where this story catches up to the present. When David and I met in person (okay, but sidenote: wouldn’t it be awesome if David wasn’t even real? If I was actually still single and this is just the next level of my lonely psychosis?), the chemistry was powerful and instant, and we had the conversation to be exclusive relatively early. Shortly after that we talked about the dating apps we were using: in addition to Scruff, he had had Grindr in the past, and was on Tinder. I was also still on Scruff and still had Tinder and the OKCupid app. We talked about it, and decided that we would delete everything…except one app: Scruff. This experiment could have been a recipe for disaster, and risky for the relationship. This is the story of how that experiment actually went. Continue reading
First published in PQMonthly.
537 Miles Away
74 Years Old
5’8″, 162 lbs, Some Hair
I Am Into: Geeks, College, Daddy Chasers
Open To: Friendships, Relationships, Dates, Elizabeth Warren as a running mate
What I’m Looking For: My socks! Haha. Looking for a reason to delete this app. Fiscal Top but social Bottom. Looking for someone to bring home to mom. Intelligence, self-awareness, confidence a must. Currently job hunting/interviewing so may relocate in November of 2016, please be open to relocate too. Like to read, take walks, go to the gym but not lately haha. Sometimes shy until I warm up to people. Want to Netflix and chill? HMU. Tested neg 8/2015 and poz friendly.
Thanks for all the woofs guys, sorry I can’t reply to everyone. Continue reading
photo by Linda Starnes
Day 1: You’re at your job, and flying out to see your mom in San Antonio the next morning, something that you’re little nervous about. Not because it’s your mom and you have a complicated relationship with her, but because it’s flying during the day. You prefer red-eye flights because a few years ago, flying through the Rockies, you and an airplane full of strangers experienced the worst turbulence you ever had in your collective lives, and after that you refused to board a plane for a few years. You could only go as far as you could drive or take a train, so your traveling circle was pretty myopic. You eventually had to travel for work, so you went to a doctor, described your fear in tangible physiological terms, got prescribed what you now laughingly describe as horse tranquilizers. They were way too powerful for casual travel, so you’ve since downgraded to Xanax, which helps you sleep on red-eye flights, but again, this is different. This will be a daytime flight, you probably won’t be asleep. Ugh. Continue reading
I’m getting off the A train in Brooklyn around Hoyt, and I look back to see if David is following nearby (he is). He’s wearing a bright teal t-shirt, and I’m wearing my short shorts with a white and blue striped pullover, so naturally we fit in among the sea of navy and black bustling around us. “Why are you walking so fast?” he asks, probably in Italian or German. He’s obsessed with learning and speaking other languages. I’m obsessed with frustrating him to tears by pretending I don’t understand or can’t hear him. “Because New York” I say, and he silently nods his understanding.
I look behind me again to see if the G we’re connecting with stops here or further down the platform. The G’s I’ve been on so far are frustratingly tiny for the amount of riders in this part of Brooklyn, so much so that it’s sometimes just two cars. It wouldn’t surprise me if the MTA reduced service to just a Little Tykes train that holds a few toddlers, running over the rats along its route with its plastic tires. Ok, yes, the G stops further down. I start to turn around when I notice a guy in a pristine white t-shirt and basketball shorts gesturing at me. I think at me? I’m not sure. Until he shouts “Yeah, you!” Continue reading
photo by David Lancelle
Part Two of Three. Read Part One here. First published in PQMonthly.
When I woke up that morning, getting into a physical altercation with a bigot was the last thing I thought I would be doing. I had been minding my own business, puttering around my house, when the word “faggot” came through my open windows on that hot day. It was barked in a harsh male baritone in the context of a conversation, and then it was repeated again. It had startled me so much to hear that ugly word in my own space, in the last place I would expect to hear that word of hate, that I had spontaneously stood up from a sitting position in the middle of my living room. I stood there for a minute, let the feelings wash over me. Continue reading
photo by Nick Fauble
Good morning! Long time no see. It still seems surreal, doesn’t it? Just one week ago, the SCOTUS ruled in favor of gay marriage. A lot of my friends have been celebrating, and even if there’s still a long way to go (like securing rights for trans persons, and the sinking realization that we’re seeking validation from an archaic, broken, systemically racist system…awkward!), it was a monumental day. Of course there’s my more cynical side that reared up and equated the rampant “rainbowing” of people’s profile pictures to a kind of armchair activism (if you care that much about it, where were you when we were marching in the streets for equality? for that matter, where was I?). But all in all it was a good thing. Progress.
I have a confession to make: I forgot we were still connected on social media! It’s been so long since we met, was it that we went to school together? Did we work at a former job together? In any case, the kind Facebook algorithms had hidden you from my feed; we probably didn’t have much in common, and we probably didn’t “like” anything from each other for awhile. I was reminded yesterday in the most jarring way, though: you posted something full of ugliness and hate, or a link to an ignorant article, or that creepy video where “Christians” (acting unChristianly) talk about feeling persecuted by gays gaining their rights. Continue reading
(thanks to the kind strangers I accosted in the Ace Lobby)
I’m usually super dead inside, but I was thrilled when Hello Mr magazine and the Ace Hotel in Portland invited me to tell the tale of my worst date ever. It’ll be this Sunday, June 14th, 5 to 8pm at the Ace. There will be a DJ! There will be cocktails! There will be an opportunity to heckle me, laugh in my dumb, dumb face! There may never be a better chance to mock me before my slow, sad fade into obscurity. See you there! (Click here for event details)