Recently, my newest regular reader, Jody took the time to peruse my entire blog, from the beginning and had a few questions when she was finished. It’s actually kind of funny, because like some sort of obsessive/compulsive, neurotic freak in desperate need of attention, I check the stats on my blog, like, every few minutes and I could actually see her (well someone) making their way through the monthly archives of my site. I suspected it was she, but wasn’t sure until she left a comment on one of my last entries with a series of questions about what she’d found.
Over the next few posts, I shall attempt to answer some of those questions as best I can, and hope not to bore everyone to tears. Her first question was “Have you had any dates yet?” Since I’ve discussed in recent posts that I was once engaged to a girl!, and since I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m gay, I assume Jody is asking me if I’ve had any dates with guys since coming out.
My immediate, gut reaction answer to that question is, “No. I have not had any dates.” That’s the simple answer and tomorrow, if I can eek out the time during my hectic and swamped day of reading twitter, playing Fish Wrangler, reading other peoples blogs and avoiding any semblance of real work and if I can muster the courage to be completely open and honest with myself, let alone all of you, I will write a more in-depth answer to that question.
I’ve been pondering the question today, though, and it suddenly occurred to me that there is a little more to the story. Once upon a time, I owned a blog similar to but just different enough from this one, before the birth and development of Riggledo. And on that blog, the details of which will forever remain dead and buried, I wrote a post that speaks to this question. So, because it’s already a quarter till six and I still have to copy and paste, review for errors and then post this bad boy, and because I am lazy, I give you the story of My First Gay Date… Sort Of.
I’ve had my job, in the Facility Management office of my building, for just over six years. In that time, I’ve had interactions with many types of individuals: vendors, repairmen, engineers, etc. When I started I was, among other things, responsible for approving and coordinating building wide events in our building lobby.
There is an individual with whom I dealt on a number of occasions, who coordinates education fairs. He works for the University of Phoenix here in Oakland, CA. I will call him UOP Guy.
UOP Guy and I communicated on multiple occasions about education fairs in the lobby. One day when I was sill an Administrative Assistant UOP Guy invited me to lunch as a show of appreciation for my efforts to help him coordinate his education fairs.
I spent the next few days after the invite, experiencing anxiety over the possibility that this might very well be a date, I just wasn’t sure. I was still very closeted, and still in denial to myself. And yet, I was willing, at least at that moment, to take the chance that this was in fact a date. How would I handle it if it were? I had no idea. Part of me hoped that it was just that.
UOP Guy and I met up for lunch that day and I was very nervous about the whole thing. I imagined it was a date. I tried to make sure I said the right things. I complimented UOP Guy on his choice of restaurant and the type of food/environment it provided. I smiled politely, I laughed at all the right moments. I commented on what a great time I’d had and how we should do it again.
When the lunch was over, UOP Guy walked me to the door and bid me farewell…
I walked back to work befuddled as to what had happened, and what might come next. While we had a few interactions in the interim, UOP Guy and I didn’t communicate much for a good year or two. By that time my title had changed and UOP Guy and I didn’t have much interaction at all, yet he invited me to lunch again.
It was at this lunch that UOP Guy began to talk to me about his girlfriend and their living arrangement as a couple living together in San Francisco, apartment life, parking problems, et. al.
I was even more befuddled. My instincts told me that UOP Guy is gay, and I’ve fantasized about a lovely life as a same-sex couple living in San Francisco with a great social life, healthy bank account and a great apartment in which we’d live. If only that damn bitch (he said playfully) weren’t in the way… Assuming she even exists.
To this day, I have very little interaction with UOP Guy. I wish I had the courage, strength and knowledge of our culture to know what is welcomed and whether/how to make an advance, but I don’t. I just get to wonder…
I would sure like to find a guy with whom I have things in common, and I can be myself. But from where I stand now I don’t know how to tell who’s who and what they represent. I sure wish we wore signs or something.