Gay Play Date
I’m not sure how it came about exactly, but somehow I allowed myself to be coerced unwittingly to go on a gay date with a fellow co-worker this past weekend. Being as unexperienced and unknowledgeable as I am on the subject of dating and relationships…I didn’t stand a chance to see the writing on the wall. All signs pointed to pink, and somehow I still allowed myself to be waved in anyways.
One moment we’re casually discussing the absurdity of the same sex marriage issue currently running rampant in the American media right now; and the next thing I know is that I’m agreeing to come over for pizza and a movie at his place Sunday evening. Isn't that sweet?
DOH! How do I ever manage to get myself into these situations is beyond me!
I’m sure Richard Simmons is somewhere right now swooning over a lavender scented candle and humming ‘You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings’ with a tear of happiness in his eye. But hey, I’m a man of my word, secure in his own astute dedicated heterosexuality…plus I love pizza. So what the fuck, right?
What could it hurt afterall? Besides, it’s not like the chicks are beating a path to my Batchelor’s Den in an effort to carry any sexual favors, now is it? So, if some older gay Hungarian man wants to invite me over for a homemade meal, lavish me with compliments and flattery, and watch a new DVD documentary on ‘Homology’…who am I to say 'no'?
Fire up the Nag Champa, crank up the George Michael on the stereo, and lets get our homosexual freak on!
Now of course, there were several security measures and precautions * that I instated in order to ensure that I didn’t allow myself to be unintentially mislead any further and end up changing my name to Jai, and then beginning to refer to my co-worker as my new “life partner’.
I was sure to lay out the ground rules and guidelines for the evening the very second I stepped into his ‘Realm of Gaydom’.
“Okay, Elton…you will sit on one side of the room and I will sit on the other. There will be no touching, tickling, giggling, groping, or sodomizing of any kind! Likewise, we will conduct ourselves as the very embodiment of modest Christian values and heterosexual nature. There will be no games of naked oiled-up Twister, no Bette Midler karaoke marathons, no pillow fights in our "tighy-whities", and definitely NO home renovating or remodeling of any kind whatsoever!”
As it was, the visit was extremely innocent I had a thoroughly innocent and enjoyable time. He did not use any gay Jedi mind tricks on me or anything and there wasn’t so much as a Queen album, rainbow poster, or ‘Queer Eye’ Holiday DVD box set anywhere to be seen.
What the fuck was I so worried about in the first place? I could've had more moves made on me in a hospital Coma Ward. If this is what all the homophobic males at work are so worried about and obsessed about exposing and avoiding...shit, "put on a kettle of Raspberry Zinger and slice up some extra pepperoni, Elton" ~ I think I just found my ideal weekend social outing!
* Besides the 18th century cast iron men’s chastity belt with locking cog piece that I wore.
One moment we’re casually discussing the absurdity of the same sex marriage issue currently running rampant in the American media right now; and the next thing I know is that I’m agreeing to come over for pizza and a movie at his place Sunday evening. Isn't that sweet?
DOH! How do I ever manage to get myself into these situations is beyond me!
I’m sure Richard Simmons is somewhere right now swooning over a lavender scented candle and humming ‘You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings’ with a tear of happiness in his eye. But hey, I’m a man of my word, secure in his own astute dedicated heterosexuality…plus I love pizza. So what the fuck, right?
What could it hurt afterall? Besides, it’s not like the chicks are beating a path to my Batchelor’s Den in an effort to carry any sexual favors, now is it? So, if some older gay Hungarian man wants to invite me over for a homemade meal, lavish me with compliments and flattery, and watch a new DVD documentary on ‘Homology’…who am I to say 'no'?
Fire up the Nag Champa, crank up the George Michael on the stereo, and lets get our homosexual freak on!
Now of course, there were several security measures and precautions * that I instated in order to ensure that I didn’t allow myself to be unintentially mislead any further and end up changing my name to Jai, and then beginning to refer to my co-worker as my new “life partner’.
I was sure to lay out the ground rules and guidelines for the evening the very second I stepped into his ‘Realm of Gaydom’.
“Okay, Elton…you will sit on one side of the room and I will sit on the other. There will be no touching, tickling, giggling, groping, or sodomizing of any kind! Likewise, we will conduct ourselves as the very embodiment of modest Christian values and heterosexual nature. There will be no games of naked oiled-up Twister, no Bette Midler karaoke marathons, no pillow fights in our "tighy-whities", and definitely NO home renovating or remodeling of any kind whatsoever!”
As it was, the visit was extremely innocent I had a thoroughly innocent and enjoyable time. He did not use any gay Jedi mind tricks on me or anything and there wasn’t so much as a Queen album, rainbow poster, or ‘Queer Eye’ Holiday DVD box set anywhere to be seen.
What the fuck was I so worried about in the first place? I could've had more moves made on me in a hospital Coma Ward. If this is what all the homophobic males at work are so worried about and obsessed about exposing and avoiding...shit, "put on a kettle of Raspberry Zinger and slice up some extra pepperoni, Elton" ~ I think I just found my ideal weekend social outing!
* Besides the 18th century cast iron men’s chastity belt with locking cog piece that I wore.
1 Comments:
But you did get a blow job, right?
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