DATES PART 1

I always thought that “coming out” to my family would make being gay easier. It hasn’t. There is more “gay bashing” going on in gay bars than in the “straight streets”. Every magazine is filled with Love Wanted ads, but gay love has a catch. See, it’s not a warm heart or someone to care if you live or die that gay men are looking for, it’s “Straight acting gay man seeks same. Butch replies only.” “No fats, no fems.” A union in the gay world is found only if you are the right type.
My grandparents were married for 60 years and had the best of heaven and the worst of hell in their relationship. My parents followed their example, so naturally I thought that was my destiny. Find a guy, settle down and deal with the crap life deals you. I loved my grandmother so much and when I lost her I found myself with so much extra love that I needed to release. I realized that I had to find my soul mate to give that love to. I figured with grandma in heaven she would guide my Mr. Right to me and I would have a replacement for her love. I got a job as a bartender in a gay bar.
I started bartending and found my first “gay” relationship. This gorgeous stud was after me and I let him catch me. I got butterflies in my heart every time we were together. Those butterflies turned into bees and my heart was stung for life. He would recite how much he loved me, but every time the bar door creaked open, he would turn to see who was coming into the bar. I explained to him that I was looking for someone to settle down with and he said he wanted to settle down also. Then he said something that was branded in my mind for eternity. He said, “being faithful is a two-hour movie reality, not a real world reality. I may sleep with other guys, but I’ll always come home to you.”
Huh? I was speechless. Fred Astaire never said that to Ginger Rodgers in those romantic films that based my ideas of relationships. My grandmother used to have all these Irish one-liners, “God is nearer than the door”, “Keep your bedroom blinds up in the afternoon or they will think you’re an alley cat”. I pray to my grandmother to help me and I get her saying, “You can’t blame him if he was never taught any better.”
Sounds good to me.
So I tried to teach him better. I recited the old cliché’s “Love with your heart, not with your pants.” , “Love is a compliment, not a complication.” He learned from me and thanked me for opening his eyes.
He is now in a ten year relationship with a “straight-acting” stud and I learned my first “gay boyfriend” lesson, don’t love the looks.
So, I never judge anyone and I date people on merit and not muscles. One day, I find myself in a bar having a drink . This guy is winking at me from across the bar and I’m flattered. No one has winked at me from across the bar in a long time. I smile and go over. I hate people who stare and don’t speak. They make it seem more like a hunter seeking his prey, then a soul seeking his mate. Anyway, there I am in front of him and we’re talking and I’m telling him where I work and giggling because he’s still winking and acting nervous. I tell him to relax; “you had me on the first wink.” He informs me that he isn’t winking, he suffers from turrets syndrome. He continues to inform me that he hasn’t worked in a while and has no money, but likes to smoke pot and asks me if I have any.
And on that happy note I will end part one, part two gets better...
Till Tomorrow Be Kind