Night and Day

It's exam week and mine are both tomorrow, so it's been pretty low key. I've had some office hours, but not the same stress level as usual. The best part is that I didn't have to be on the early train these last two days. But that also means I stay up later and somehow manage to get less sleep. This morning when I woke up, I had a slight tickle in my throat. With the changing weather and the end of the term, it's time to get sick and I thought I'd take a preemptive approach with some Dayquil. I grabbed the box, popped two, showered and headed off to the train. On my morning commute I usually do a little puzzle on my iPod or some grading. Today I could not keep my head up. My eyes were so heavy and my body felt super sluggish. The rocking motion of the train didn't help and I dropped off minutes after we left the station. The ride is about an hour. I slept the entire way and nearly missed my stop. When I stumbled off in Naperville, it was windy, rainy and cold. I decided to walk the long way hoping the cold would shock me awake. However, due to poor decision making in regards to footwear, my toes we soon very unhappy.

As I came into my building, I ran into one of the psych. professors. I enjoy talking to this person. He's nice. But it wasn't the ideal moment to run into him...see previous post. He asked about the train ride and my exams and the end of the term. But my brain would not process the simple questions and all I could manage was, “Both tomorrow...need it to stop...yours?” We talked for a few minutes but I don't recall the rest of the conversation. As I entered the stairwell, I started laughing at my own lack of coherence and said aloud, “What is wrong with you?” In my office I sat down and pulled out the box of Dayquil only to find that I had grabbed the box of Niquil by mistake!!

Then it turned funny. I had thought I was getting really sick, but no, just drowsy from the mistaken medicine. During office hours a few students showed up and it was comical at best. I couldn't finish my sentences and eventually apologized for my stuttering. They laughed at my mistake and we started a new. After office hours I had a two break before my next stint and sat in my chair with my head slumped against my chest and Les Miserables playing on Youtube. I started feeling more aware by 2 but another two hours with students and I was back in my stupor.

For the walk home, I decided it would be best to wrap my feet in plastic before inserting them into my shoes. The logic was that the plastic should keep the water off, though they would still be cold. I wrapped tape around the plastic to keep it from slipping and off I went. I slept on the train ride home, though not as deeply as the morning trip. When I left the train I had forgotten about the plastic and the tape but it had come undone. Union station was pretty busy and I didn't want to take the plastic off where anyone else could see so I tried the bathroom. The line was pretty long there, so I figured it could wait until I got home. As I was leaving the station, I decided to stop by the CVS for some supplies, but at the top of the stairs I noticed one of the pieces of plastic was really sticking out of the shoe. Once I got outside, I crouched down next to the building in a dry patch and took my shoes off to remove the plastic. As I was doing this a man walked over to me. He was clearly homeless and asked for some money. I don't carry cash but always feel bad saying that I don't have any. However, when he saw what I was doing, he just said, “I have to wrap plastic around my feet too,” and walked away. I guess I don't know enough about the homeless, but I accepted his grace and headed off to the drugstore.

Here I met a second homeless fellow. He held the door open as I entered but didn't say anything. I was glad. I got my stuff (microwavable soup in a sip-able can!) and headed back out. As I exited, he held the door again, but this time, “Spare some change?” I responded with my regular no cash line and he said, “Man, I held the door for you!” I wanted to say something along the lines of, “This isn't a job. You can't get paid for being polite,” but I refrained. Instead I said, “Do you wrap plastic around your feet?” I blame this on the lingering effects of the Niquil, but after my previous encounter ended so pleasantly I thought that maybe plastic on feet was some kind of secret code among the homeless. It is not. He said, “What? Can I get some change?” Having nothing else to offer, I replied, “All I have is some microwavable soup...but I'm guessing you don't have a microwave.”

So you want a date...

I'm in my early thirties. I work most of my waking hours and haven't been on a legitimate date in nearly 4 years. Over ninety percent of the folks who work for my employer are married and there are very few gay men, let alone single gay men. With work taking so much of my time, it's difficult to find the energy to go out on the weekends, and the bar scene doesn't do it for me the same way it used to. Sure, it's nice to get out and have some drinks, do a little dancing and flirt with that stranger in the cute sweater. But too often the night ends, not poorly, but just ends: no numbers exchanged, no tantalizing conversations had, no late night romp in sight.

Lately I've received a lot of advice from my friends and the general consensus is that a bar is not the place to look for a steady relationship. The fact that this is such a daunting revelation arises from the realization that bars are the only place I've ever met anyone! In response, I ask where I should be looking. The two answers are church and interest groups. Church doesn't appeal and that leaves social clubs, groups where people with similar interests meet to talk about or engage in said interest. There are athletic clubs: tennis, volleyball, running, kayaking; hobby groups: knitting, crocheting, cooking, writing; and professional groups. I go the gym alone. I don't really have any other hobbies and the folks in my profession are often socially incapable. This is enough to rule out social clubs, but my friends persist.

The real problem to me seems to be the fact that once you leave college, you aren't forced into social interactions: you aren't living in a dorm, you don't spend your meals in a crowded dining hall, you aren't in class with potential dates. Even making friends after relocating can be difficult. The perception then is that if you make it through your educational experience without finding a mate then you're out of luck. I know this isn't entirely true, but being surrounded by married people for most of my day makes it seem like a reality. The trick then is to find some way to put yourself out there. And here you have to be careful. I've been mistaken for a hooker one too many times. It's funny, but there are plenty of neighborhoods where a young gay man walking down the street alone at two in the morning wearing a wife-beater (a cute one) and overly tight jean shorts screams, “Hey creepy men, I'm a hooker...and cheap to boot!” If you enjoy being paid for sex, then by all means, just make sure to ask for cash. More to the point, being out alone can be intimidating, but when you're new to a city you may not have a choice. Be aware of the fact then that you may be perceived in an entirely different light than you intend.

So how do you meet someone? I don't really know, but as an academic, I'm very good at making plans. I have a daily calendar filled with sticky notes on top of other sticky notes, I make to-do lists like there's no tomorrow, and I can develop a ten week course in a matter of hours. It seemed obvious then that I should apply this skill to dating. As adults, relationships often require us to go out of our way and seek out potential friends and/or mates. This is terribly intimidating, but also exhilarating. The plan below is my current strategy for dating. As a disclaimer, be aware that I'm terribly obsessed with order and clarity.

Phase 0: Identify your victim. Always be on the lookout, be it in a bar or at work or the commute to work, etc. Constant vigilance.

Phase 1: Introductions. This one can be tricky but you have to find a non-creepy way to meet the person identified in phase 0. At a bar, you can just walk over and introduce yourself. On the train, or however you get to work, this is little more complicated. If the train is crowded, it's wouldn't be considered rude to share a seat, but don't just throw yourself down if there are plenty of available options. Work is also slightly complicated. If it's someone you interact with frequently, chat it up and see if there are common interests. If you don't have a real reason to talk with them, you might have to do some sleuthing to find a compelling, and again non-creepy, reason to introduce yourself. In this day and age, I find email a perfectly legitimate way to do this but only after having something funny or interesting to share with the coworker. And yet again, don't be creepy. Workplace harassment will get you into trouble. What's cute to you may be interpreted as the need for a restraining order to someone else. Don't be creepy. If you're creepy, stop reading this.

Phase 1.5: Waiting. Many of the phases are simply about waiting which I find to be the hardest part of the whole system. This time around, you wait to see if they respond. If you've introduced yourself in person, then this one will take no time at all. If it goes well, proceed to Phase 2. Otherwise, return to Phase 0. If you've used email or some other social networking system, this phase is unavoidable. They may respond quickly or not at all. In the meanwhile, you have to stay calm. Don't send a second email. Don't become obsessed. This one is particularly difficulty for me as I have a naturally obsessive personality. When I find something new that I really like, e.g. an artist, a book, a tv show, etc., I absorb it. I buy all the books in the series. I buy all the albums by the artist. The internet lends itself to this kind of bad behavior. It's not good to know too much about a person before you actually meet them. Context is important. Go to the gym and relax.

Phase 2: Setting up the first encounter. I don't want to call it a date. It may not be a date. If the previous phases have gone well, then it's acceptable to ask them to get a coffee, or a drink after work, or go to lunch, but don't go too far. A night with dinner and a movie is potentially too far, but be open if they suggest something more involved. You don't want to seem overly pushy, but be clear and forward. Identify specific days/times that work for you. If they don't work for the potential date, be flexible. If their schedule is complicated, rearrange yours, but within reason. You don't want to appear desperate. If you are desperate, mask it well.

Phase 2.5: The first encounter. Relax. Be yourself. Don't gush on about past relationships. Don't talk about the fact that you're so busy at work that you don't have time for a personal life. That sends mixed messages and clarity is best at this early stage. Be light. Smile. Order appropriately, e.g. don't have 4 drinks at lunch. I tend to get really antsy and excited. I talk on and on and don't give anyone else a chance to get a word in. My friends offer good advice, if also slightly brutal. “Just remember to not talk and sit real still.” “Don't eat like a fatty.” “Remember to sit with your good ear near him.” These tips are all particular to me and they're all totally relevant. I talk too much. I bounce about. I eat and eat and eat. I'm partially def in one ear and say, “WHAT?” a lot. Your friends know you...listen to them.

Phase 3: Follow up to the first encounter. In my twenties it seemed like there were a million rules to dating. The one that perplexed me most was how long you should wait after the first outing to call or send an email. As an adult, I now realize that these rules are stupid. If you have a good time, send a quick note saying so. To be clear here, you should wait a little while, but later that same day is fine. You do not have to abide by the rule of the forty-eight hour wait that was suggested to me at the age of twenty-three. And keep it short. Express the fact that you had a good time. If he payed, play with that and say would like to return the favor sometime soon. Also, pull something from the conversation as a reference. This shows you're a good listener. It's all about selling, playing the game. But keep it short. Don't recount the entire conversation and certainly do not sound like you've already talked about a second outing, unless you have in fact talked about a second outing. He gets to decide if he's willing to go another round. As a side note, if he's aware that you're following this strict set of rules, he might decide against a second outing, so don't mention it.

Phase 3.5: Waiting. Here it is again. This one always makes me more panicky than the first waiting phase. We've met and if I sent the follow up email, that means I would like to meet up again, but I have no idea what he's thinking. Did I talk to much? Did he see when the string bean fell out of my mouth? Was I boring? Too much eye contact? I can convince myself that I did everything horribly wrong in an instant and this can drive you crazy, especially if he doesn't respond for a few days. Don't let it. He's got a life and that's a good thing. Go to the gym and relax.

Phase 4: Setting up the first date. Assuming he responds positively, this is now the time for the first real date. In theory this should be much easier because you've broken the ice, but chances are that you still don't know that much about your new beau. Again, be flexible, but dinner and a drink is now an acceptable proposition. He's coming back for more so there must be some mutual interest.

Phase 4.5: The first date. The advice from 2.5 is still pertinent. Don't throw your entire life out there. Take it in stride and let the conversation go where it will. Tell some stories but avoid telling that one about the time you passed out drunk and semi-naked in your front yard, unless you feel that's where the conversation is going. Don't drink too much. You haven't totally sealed the deal and don't want to come off as a lush. Also, don't start talking about the wedding! It's only the first date and you will most likely, more so than not, scare him off if you start talking about color palettes at this point. I know gay marriage is a new thing, but we're not lesbians!

At this point you're on your own. Assuming the date goes well and you're both still interested, you still need to keep your head. Don't gush and swoon because he's so dreamy. I've dated a few charmers – it's an act. Don't convince yourself that it's not going anywhere. Enjoy what you have or find a new date. And believe me, I know this doesn't apply to everyone. Some people are much better suited to the dating game than others. However, for those of us who are impaired in this area, it never hurts to have a plan.

As a last suggestion, don't sleep with him too soon. For years this was my tactic – get him into bed as quickly as possible. He'll never call you back if you do. You've done it, I've done it, we all do it. The gays (possibly guys in general, but I have little experience sleeping with straight men) are notorious for this. If you give it up too quickly, there's no reason to get to know you unless it was the most fantastic sex ever, and even so, you've already taken all the curiosity out of the first few encounters. I've had some great one-night stands, but have heard from only a handful after the fact. The most infuriating ones are those that seemed genuinely interesting and/or interested in me, so why the rush. If they're interested, a few dates isn't too much to ask. Relieve yourself privately if you must, but keep it to yourself for the first few meetings.

Disclaimer 2: Grain of salt.

The fishmonger

I enjoy the grocery store. I like all the food and the various other oddities that you can purchase to enjoy with the food. But I hate going to the grocery. People seem to lose all sense of physical self-awareness when forced to push a buggy (kart or cart for all you non-southern folk) down a narrow aisle. They act as though they're the only person for miles and don't hear (or ignore you) when offering a polite, "Excuse me." They just stand there staring at the options for tomato sauce well beyond the appropriate amount of time it takes to select an 8 oz. can of Hunt's Classic Tomato Sauce. Or, they park their buggy in the most unfortunate place while they wonder off to consider where the milk might be. The milk is always where it is but somehow these people have never been inside a grocery store before and seem perplexed to find that it's all the way in the back. And don't move a parked cart. The minute you touch it, the owner will reappear with an expression which can only be interpreted as, "What the F@&K are you doing? That's my cart! I'll kill you!"

I avoided going for the better part of yesterday but eventually the need for food won and I figured my car was getting lonely downstairs. It wasn't super crowded and I had a most delightful time in the produce and cheese sections. The fish counter was my next stop. There was a woman wrapping some fillets and she didn't hear my first, "Excuse me?" I waited an appropriate length of time before repeating myself, which also went unheard. An awkward few minutes passed and I tried again. I almost gave up, but then she finished her wrapping and saw me as she turned. As someone with a hearing deficit, I assumed she couldn't hear out of one or both of her ears and forgave her. I asked for a half pound of shrimp and she put on her gloves. Why she wasn't wearing gloves while wrapping the fillets is something I did not concern myself with as I had no intention of purchasing a fillet.

She scooped up some shrimp, and then added a few more bringing my total to .54 lbs. I said that was fine and she looked up, "You said a half pound...that's .5 not .54." I thought to myself, "That's fair. I did ask for exactly .5 lbs of shrimp." So, she removed one, bringing the total to .5 lbs. Then she threw it back and said, "That'll have to do. If I take that one out, it goes way under .5 so this is as close as I can get." I laughed inside and thought, "Just wrap it up, honey!" She did and as she handed it to me she said, "That ain't much. Oh, it's just for one?"

If you can't tell, I'm a huge fan of the inner dialogue, a trait I attribute to too much Sex and the City. I thought, "What? Why you so judge-y? Maybe it's for a starter and I want small portions. Maybe it's just one component of a much more complex dish and shrimp isn't the main attraction. Why would you assume I'm single? Does the fact that it's 8pm on a Saturday and I clearly haven't showered imply that I can't get a date? I think not dear friend...I think not!" Then I said, "Yep, it's just for one...and I'm gonna eat all fourteen of them."

As I stalked away my inner dialogue continued, "Can't get a date? I can get a date. I'ma go ask her if she wants to come over for some shrimp and then I'll only give her two. Yeah, that'll teach her." Once I got to the cereal aisle I had calmed down only to discover that they were out of Frosted Flakes. Now, I don't know about you, but I have a favorite in almost every category of thing imaginable and Frosted Flakes holds that position in the cereal realm. So what do you do? Do you buy the off brand? No. Do you buy Honey Nut Cheerios? They are the second favorite, but the space between first and second place is extreme. I didn't buy cereal, a fact I now regret.

At this point I decided that rum had become a necessary component of the night's activities and proceeded to the liquor aisle and then on to checkout. The cashier was a cute young girl with braces. I couldn't place her age, but she had a huge smile and was super chatty. I am also super chatty and we had a delightful time as she rang up all my items. When she got to the rum she had to call over her manager. She looked at me and said, "I'm only seventeen, so she has to do it. I'm only seventeen; I can drive, but I can't sell you alcohol because you have to be twenty-one for that." She smiled and I said, "Don't worry, I'm thirty-one and I can't get a date."

My first time

Why blog? Why now? Someone said I should and I usually do what I'm told. Also, there is a very immediate need to avoid work and this will likely take several hours...yes, I will inevitably become obsessed and will blog far too much for anyone's enjoyment, but I'll continue to think I'm funny.

Post 1 -- check!