Oct-oodle: a past post from the poster's past

"I'm in love with you." He said it. I finally heard those words from an attractive man who fit so nicely within my "type." Now let me rewind twenty minutes to when we met. I was standing strategically in a gay bar. This night it was I believe, The Slide, no The Mary go Round...no no, it was The Phallus Wheel. Yes, that was the one. The Phallus Wheel is the it place to be on Saturday nights from 12 to approximately 1:25. It's the Mary Go Round from 1:30 on, and honestly, it's never great at The Slide, so it is best to pop in there, get drunk and head on over to the good bars. So, back to my "love" story... Uck. I don't want to be "looking for a boyfriend." I'm not proud of it; I'm actually ashamed of it. I'm a fiercely independent out-of-work actor who spends time at his temp job doodling pictures of two bedroom apartments on the UES where "He" and I tend to our Chia Herb garden that sits out on the fire escape decorated in a faux south-of-Naples design which I personally came up with after I stole it from Trading Spaces. Some times I stop surfing the internet just long enough to ask myself "Who are you and what have you done with the real me?" Well, whichever me went out the other night was standing strategically at The Phallus Wheel with my faithful friend, Vodka on the Rocks with a lemon. Now, the lemon here is key when you're going to drink straight vodka. What you do is take your straw or straws, I am personally a fan of two cocktail straws, but too vain to ask for two straws. So it is always a pleasant surprise when I get the two straws. So you take your straw or straws and pierce the lemon over and over again thrashing it throughout the glass, slightly flavoring the 5 dollar a glass well vodka, making it taste like 8 dollar a glass Citron, but maintaining the desired strength of 5 dollar a glass well. Well, I'm standing, I'm thrashing, I'm drinking, and the time is ticking by. There are a few cute boys, better than at the first two bars I had cruised earlier in the evening, but really nothing catching my fancy or enticing my...anything. I had just finished my 4th Vodka Rocks with Lemon, was debating between downing another, and getting the hell out of there when someone grabs my hand. I turn and stare into a pair of beautiful, yet half-opened eyes. Accentuating the aforementioned eyes was a head a delightfully sandy blond hair styled into a sort-of gay bringing-back-the-Don Johnson/Miami Vice look. It was working well for him. (imitating the drunk boy) "I think you're hot." "Okay." His name was Brandon, and he was there with his co-worker from Barneys. Fine fine, don't judge Jason, we're looking for a person, not perfection, and at least he's cute and blond. If anything it'll be another night of drunken fumbly sex which you'll replay in your mind the next morning like a black and white b movie on a channel that doesn't get great reception. So I spent some time with Brandon. He stumbled me into a dark corner, and we made out for a bit. I bought him a drink, though he did not need it and I bought myself two, because honestly, there's nothing more sobering than hanging out with someone who is way drunker than you. So, then, two more drinks down, he was slurping at his "Cranberry Vodka," his words not mine, person not perfection, person not perfection. I put down number two, stared into his bloodshot baby blues and out of his mouth came the words, "I love you." Somehow, in my mind, I pictured this moment differently. Call me sentimental, but..."You do?" "Yeah. What's your name again?" "Goodnight Brandon, it's been a pleasure." I went and unchecked my coat from the 5 dollar coat check ridiculousness and made a b-line for the door. On my way out, I glanced back to see if Brandon was still standing, and he was. Strangely enough, he had something attached to his face. It was a taller, cuter boy than I. It is better to have loved and lost than to never have...bite me.