Ruuuuude

This blog entry is just purely telling a story of a bad date and I will blog about other bad dates periodically.

I met Billy on match.com. He was in his late 30’s, Italian guy who is bald that makes him look sexy given his stocky built. We went to a swanky bar for drinks one night. His confidence can easily be mistaken for arrogance but oddly that attracted me even more. I agreed to go out on a second date and he took me to a fancy restaurant. We ordered a bottle of red wine and an appetizer cheese plate.

Fine dining experience includes the wine presentation by the server, which the server shows you the bottle then opening the bottle, pour, taste, approve, then pour again. I am so not into all that but I admit it does make me feel all classy.

When the server was holding the bottle of the Cabernet we ordered and about to open, Billy abruptly says “you can open it and leave it.”  Judging by the server’s facial expression, she was shocked with his demand and I was also shocked, sharing her confusion. Billy poured the wine for me and then himself. I took several sips to suppress my discomfort after his strange behavior.

Few minutes later, the server brought the cheese plate and explained that they ran out few items so chef rearranged other available cheese for us. With sincere apology, she reassured that the cheese plate will be taken off the bill.

“So it’s free?” Billy asked.

“Yes, we will comp this from your check.”

“Then I don’t want it.”

This time, the server had a disgust on her facial expression and it made me want to hug her.

“I want it.” I told the server and began to eat them.

I told Billy that it was delicious and continued with the dinner conversation. As we went through the meal with the typical get-to-know-each-other questions about work, school, family, sports, hobbies, and etc. I began to develop more interest and found him more and more appealing despite his treatment towards the server.

Towards the end of the meal, table next to us, a straight couple who was just finished their appetizer, was greeted with their entree dishes from their server. One of them was a seafood dish.

“Well, that smells fishy.” Billy blurts out to them.

I think I crawled under the table at that moment and it wasn’t to give him a BJ under the table.

After the dinner, he drove me home and he asked me if he talked too much during the dinner. He explained that he was nervous because it has been a long time since last time he went out a date. I wasn’t sure if he meant to ask if he was rude. I told him yes and started to make out with him in his car. Surprisingly, he was very gentle and almost held back. There were no follow up dates but I ran into him at a bar one night. He offered to buy me a drink and I asked him for a bottle of wine but only if the bartender opens it for me. He chuckled then ordered me a beer instead.

American Dream

Few weekends ago I saw Into the Woods and in the movie, Cinderella character said to the prince “My father’s house was a nightmare. Your house was a dream. Now I want something in between.” This resonated with me, particularly with my dating experience. I certainly had many terrible dates but I also had many that were too good to be true.

I met Mark through a coworker and we sparked a connection very rapidly when we learned that we lived in the same neighborhood. My very first impression of Mark was “wow, how dreamy!” Mark was in his early 40’s, blond hair, blue eyes, tall, muscular, with a beautiful smile and fierce shoes, who works in marketing and into playing sports.

He invited me over to his place one night, which is probably about 5 times bigger than my place. His kitchen alone was size of my entire apartment. We sat outside in his beautiful outdoor patio where we drank wine while we talked over Coldplay playing on the outdoor speakers. It was a particularly breezy summer night and I was feeling HOT!

Well.. one thing lead to another and I was kissing my prince charming. He walked me over to the bedroom and I was thinking to myself ‘how is this possible?’ The fantasy I always had came true that night or his marketing strategy really worked. I was completely sold.

We had sex all night and in the morning, we had one more session in his sexy shower that had 2 shower heads. His entire bathroom products were from Kiehl’s and his bath towels felt like they were just off the shelf from the department store with fresh scent. He made coffee for me in the middle of his beautiful marble counter top kitchen under the dimmed lighting, while light jazz music playing on the surround sound system.

Ok, it just went on and on and it was just waaaaay over the top. It all felt like an illusion and I remember walking out of his place thinking ‘this is just too good to be true and he will never call me.’ The entire walk home, I compared our lives and was preoccupied by the fact that lifestyles were extreme opposites and even different class levels. But, if Cinderella, a peasant, and royal prince, can fall in love maybe I can. Then quickly I realized I didn’t have glass slippers and I am not a peasant. I do agree with Into the Woods’ Cinderella that it would be ideal to have a guy who is somewhere between the “Beauty and the Beast.”  (BTW, I will blog about the “Beast” next week.)

Today is Dr. Martin Luther King’s day. During his unforgettable speech, he said: “So even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.” Although MLK’s dream isn’t about prince charming, an American dream is all about falling in love, with one another, regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, religion, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, and what kind of bathroom products you use. I have an American dream that I will fall in love that the guy who loves me back unconditionally (or without Kiehl’s hair conditioner). And yes, Mark never called me back.

Bros befo’ hoes

Last week, I wrote about my life in high school and I feel so lucky that my BFF, Dave, was also gay when we were in high school. We came out to each other our junior year but probably knew about each other, way before we can even admit to ourselves.

When we were in our senior year, Dave dated Will, who was an incredibly attractive tall fit white guy in his 20’s. Dave shared with me all the great things about being a relationship and how happy he was with Will. I, as a BFF, felt happy for Dave but little bit jealous. I too, selfishly, wanted a boyfriend of my own. Unfortunately, Will broke up with Dave and I, as a BFF, had the responsibility of supporting Dave.

I received a strange call from Will one day and first I thought he was going to ask me how Dave was doing. Instead, Will asked me out on a date. Honestly, the first emotion was excitement. But I was torn, so I told him I needed to think about it. I did not mention it to Dave but I talked to other friends for advice. Everyone discouraged me and said I would be hurting Dave’s feelings and it would ruin our friendship. I was still ambivalent and there was a big part of me wanted to be with Will. I finally talked to Dave about it and he told me he would be ok with it.

Will and I spent many nights at his place, watching movies. One of his favorite movies is “To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything -Julie Newmar“. 

He started to send me sweet romantic cards almost weekly basis and all of the card started with.. “To Wong Foo…” I kept these cards and still have them to this day. One card reads: “I’m glad we met. Sometimes life’s full of the happiest surprises.” Another card: “Face it. You want me.” These incredible sweet gestures gave me confidence that I made a good decision despite my best friend’s feelings. However, I could not share my joy with my best friend like he did we me when he was dating Will. I was forced to share when Dave found a condom rapper in my car, which he knew I was with Will the night before. Awkward!!

After few months of “To Wong Foo” sweet cards, Will and I both moved away then lost touch completely. We never even talked about ending our relationship, making the closure very difficult for me. It made it more difficult because I could not talk about it with Dave. When I finally talked to Dave, he did admit that it bothered him a lot. But Dave did not say anything because he just wanted me to be happy.

The truth was, I was happy. But now I wonder if I have done the same thing if it was other way around. Would I have given up my own happiness for my best friend? Would I also give him advice after my own negative experience of being in a relationship with the same guy? Would I allow my friend to experience on his own to make a decision for himself?

In gay culture, it seems everyone has dated each other’s ex at one point. One of my favorite TV shows is L Word on Showtime. One character, Alice, created “the chart” which displays names of lesbians in a big social circle in West Hollywood and names are connected by lines representing some level of romantic or sexual relationships. If I create a chart of my own, it would be a gigantic web.

It has been almost 20 year since high school. Dave and I still keep in touch. In fact, we had dinner last month. Bromance definitely last longer than romance and we stay true to  power of BFF, best friends forever.   

To Dave…. Thanks for everything. -Wong Foo

It DOES get better

“Is it the toilet or do you smell like shit?”

Jon asked while he was cleaning the toilet with the toilet brush, Don was cleaning the shower with shower brush, and I was brushing my teeth with the electronic toothbrush. I probably still smelled of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and sweat from dancing all night at Flavor, the biggest gay club in town. I spat out the minty toothpaste in the sink, making an awful gagging sound. When I told them where I went the night before, Jon had a big grin on this face and I can also feel Don smiling in the bathtub, which meant they knew the flavor of Flavor.

Jon and Don were middle-aged men-maids who cleaned my family’s house every other Wednesdays at 9 am and they were the very first people I came out to. Jon and Don (yes their names rhyme) have been together since high school and their story is soooo “It gets better.” Mine is still getting better.

When I was high school, I met my first boyfriend, Ethan, from the LGBTQ youth group. About a handful of gay teens from different high schools met weekly at a gay coffee shop to create a supportive environment when we felt not supported in our home environment.

Ethan, a twink-ish white boy, was very clear about how he was attracted to me. – “I love your eyes. I love your skin. I love your face. I love your hair.”

“Do you love my personality too?” In order for me to develop some level of trust with him, I needed reassurance that he was interested in me as a person, and not just fascinated with my facial features.

We spent time together every weekend and even skipped classes during the week to see each other, often exploring our sexualities. He was definitely a good kisser and I had that good-funny stomach turns upside-down feeling every time we kissed. However, I began to notice more and more negative aspects of Ethan which I overlooked in the begining because I liked him and enjoyed the fact that someone showed interested in me.

One night, I had a party at my house when my parents were out of town. While my friends and I were smoking pot in the back yard, Ethan stood in the kitchen in the dark with lights off staring at us through the window. This bizarre and creepy behavior was hysterically funny to my stoned friends but it frightened me. I went inside and asked if he was ok.

“No, I am not ok. I want to go home, but if I was at home, I would be killing myself right now.”

He explained about growing up in an unstable family due to father’s alcoholism. All he wanted was to be with positive people who cared about him and me smoking pot felt the opposite of that. He was torn; he didn’t want to be with me and he didn’t want to go home.

Ethan and I did not have the same outcome as Jon and Don’s relationship, but we had similar childhoods of having alcoholic fathers. I wonder if Ethan felt any less isolated during the brief time we were together when we needed to explore our sexuality.  I never saw Ethan again, but few months after finishing high school, I heard from another LGBTQ youth group member that he was doing well.

After I came out of the closet to the people who clean closets, Jon gave me a big hug and told me how proud he was of me.

“Wear a condom!!” Don warned me by pointing the shower brush at me.

They were very much my father figures (no, no, no, not in a daddy-son way). And life did get little better knowing I had their support.