The bartender at my semi-local gay bar surely is pretty. His eyes are deep and soulful. His locks are wavy and lush. His muscles are abundant, his teeth a gleaming white.
But as I've said elsewhere on these pages, he's also deeply dumb. So deeply dumb that whenever he speaks, whenever it's my turn, all I want to do is say to him with deep sympathy and a pat to his head, "Oh, honey."
Though he's nearly my age, he reminds me of nothing more closely than an enthusiastic, hyper Dalmatian. He's all about jumping up and wagging his tail and licking my face (metaphorically, I stress) and getting his muddy paw prints all over my shirt when I walk into the bar, but I'm not sure I'd trust him to look both ways before walking out into the street—or pick up a stick I've thrown instead of coming back with a water moccasin in his mouth.
"Hey buddy!" he panted with excitement when I walked into the bar the night before Thanksgiving. "Guess what? Guess what? Guess what? I'm going to have my iPhone accessories line!" Before I'd even removed my coat, he was outlining for me the latest of his harebrained schemes to make a quick million—this time by marketing high-end (e.g., tacky) cases for iPhones and iPads. He intends to call the line, for god knows what reason, iChicken. "I met with these people, right, who want to sponsor my new line for like, fashion shows! And television ads!" Then he went off into a long, long excited speech about how his iPhone cases were going to be the real deal. "Not that fake jewelry shit, but real Swarkovski crystals put all over the fuck of that shit! Real Swarkovski! It'll be hot, right? Real classy, right?"
All I could really think of was a line from the Avenue D song, "Do I Look Like a Slut?" that runs, Shiiiiit, I love your Daisy Dukes! I think they're real classy!
The bartender's questions are rhetorical, however. He doesn't even pause for a response, or for my gentle suggestion that it's Swarovski, not Swarkovski. "I got it all up here!" he said, pointing to his skull. "Hundreds of ideas for this shit. Hundreds! I was telling them to one of my buddies and he was like, 'Dude, you're a real resonance man!' And I was like, yeah! I am!" His voice dropped to a confidential tone. "That's like a Resonance Faire, right?"
Let's get to some Formspring questions, shall we?
I'd like to try hooking up at rest stops. I live in CT like you (towards New Haven). Are there any good and safe places where I'd be likely to find some action?
By its very nature, public cruising isn't safe. It's risky and unpredictable and even dangerous. If you have a high-stakes career, or a public image, or if you don't want to take any risks whatsoever when it comes to hooking up, you shouldn't be cruising in rest stops or other public places.
However, if you do give it a try, I've noticed that the rest stops in our area tend to be very much park-and-wait experiences. Most of the cruising goes on in the backs of the parking lots, after dark. Men will turn off their engines, roll down their windows a little, and check each other out. It'll progress to a conversation between cars, and after that perhaps one man getting into the other man's car for some groping. The action is mostly taken elsewhere.
If you're looking for a lower-risk experience, I would suggest some of the adult bookstores in the New Haven area. The men in the back rooms tend to be there for one reason only, and the stores aren't really policed all that closely, from what I've heard.
How long since you've been on an airplane?
That's a good question. A year and a half? I flew from Michigan to New York on my birthday, back in 2011. Why do you ask? Are you buying me a ticket somewhere?
Would we ever see you at a karaoke bar? What song would you sing?
Um, anyone who knows me would immediately reply that it's less likely to find me in a bar that wasn't a karaoke bar.
I maintain in my phone a database of over 250 songs that I've sung in karaoke bars over the last decade. The database contains information on the song title, original artist, and the amount of half-steps that I request the KJ to change the key, if needed. I find that keeping the list helps me overcome that "I don't know anything in this karaoke book" block that I always get upon entering a karaoke bar.
Though most of the songs on the list I've performed at least a good number of times, there are a few that, after giving it the old college try, I will never perform again. There are some that no matter how many keys I tone it down, are still way too high for me (I'm looking at you, Maroon 5's "Misery"—I certainly lived up to that title). And some, while fine on the radio, are just a snooze to sing, like Level 42's "Something About You" or White Town's "I Could Never Be Your Woman."
Still. That's a lot of songs.
Posted on Twitter was a comment that said, "Some of the best Tops were previous bottoms". Was wondering what your thoughts on that were.
I think that if an observant guy who's willing to learn, experiments with the opposite role of what he generally prefers, he'll pick up a lot of nuances about the experience that will enhance his future lovemaking skills.
Some guys like me who started as bottoms have turned out to be very good tops; we remember what it was that tops did to us to make us hornier for them, and to make us feel good. Then we put those things into action.
I've known bottoms who have flipped and learned what it is that makes top men tick, and play upon that as well.
Is it an automatic process? No, not at all. There are plenty of tops who were previous bottoms out there who are still lousy at both. Being attuned to the moment, and remembering the feelings and connecting the dots between previous experiences and future encounters, though, will make anyone better in bed.
I was very touched by your recent gratitude post. Do you have a routine way you practice gratitude? And looking back on your life (sexual life it you want) what 10 or so things are you most grateful for?
Writing about my life in a journal helps me practice gratitude. Rather than letting life rush by, I find that capturing moments from it really helps me remember them better, and to appreciate the good moments for what they are.
Here are a few things for which I'm grateful, in no particular order.
- I'm grateful that I've always been willing to take chances in my life, whether it's been in throwing myself into new situations and new parts of the country in my personal life, or simply to take a risk with another person and let them into my intimate sexual space.
- I'm not wealthy, or famous, but I'm grateful that as a career I get to do what I love to do.
- I'm happy to have had an upbringing that has helped me face most of the obstacles that stand in my way, and the support to endure those that seem unattackable.
- I'm very lucky and fortunate to have been born with a sense of humor that, most days, keeps me from being bitter and overly cynical. Usually.
- I'm really glad that the universe has seen fit to send my way people who can share their lives and secrets and most intimate fantasies with me at the times I need to meet them, and I'm glad that their sparks illuminate my life in ways I didn't even know were possible—or sometimes necessary—before our lives touched.
- I'm grateful for the capacity to love deeply, and to continue to love others, despite all the pain opening up that way can bring.
- Shallow as it might sound, I'm grateful to have been born with the dick I received, because it's gotten me a lot of places I might not have been otherwise.
- I'm grateful for the bad times I've had in my life. They've only made me appreciate the good all the more.
Anyone who doesn't practice gratitude on a daily basis is letting his life simply slip by, rather than living it.