Tag: gay lifestyle blog

What Gay People Talk About

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by eryc perez de tagle

Happy Sunday, Jerks!

Thin Skin Jonny had a show on Friday night at UCBeast.  We were lucky enough to perform with Momma Holler, Kevin Michael Murphy and Lauren Adams, Danger Pin and the hilarious Ben Lerman.

We’re going to be hosting a monthly showcase of comedy music at UCBeast, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

Here’s a clip of us doing Giulia Rozzi and Margot Leitman’s amazing storytelling show Stripped Stories.  We also did their Sirius Radio podcast!  You can download the episode for free here.  Warning – the song is slightly NSFW.

Thanks for watching, and Happy Sunday!

Jerks.

TuesDATE: Don’t Talk To Me

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by roger wingfield

Him:  Hey.  Remember me?

Me:  Oh God.  No.  Don’t.

Him:  What?

Me:  I do remember you.  Excuse me…

Him:  What’s wrong?  Don’t you wanna talk to me?

Me:  I don’t want to go into it.  People are meeting me here soon and I just want to have a good time, and not have a scene or whatever.

Him:  What??!  I’m not going to cause a scene!!  What did I do??

Me:  Honestly?  You don’t remember?  Come on.  When was the last time you saw me?

Him:  Here?  Didn’t I meet you here one night?

Me:  You did, but that wasn’t the last time I saw you.

Him:  Oh my God!!  My mother was here that night. 

Me:  She was.  Yes she was.

Him:  Oh, me and my mom drink a lot when we get together.  It’s not pretty.

Me:  Right.  You guys were both very flirty with me.

Him:  I remember pouring on the charm, wait, my mother was flirting with you too??

Me:  She kept asking if she could ‘grab my basket,’ and reaching for my crotch.

Him:  Oh, no!  How embarrassing. 

Me:  That was fine.  I mean, it was odd, but I didn’t think too much of it, other than it was strange.

Him:  Well you can’t hold that against me.  It was my mother.  I didn’t do that.

Me:  I know.  But then I saw you after that…

Him:  When?

Me:  A few weeks after that.  On the train.  You don’t remember?

Him:  Refresh my memory.

Me:  Uh…  You and your friend were wasted…  It was around midnight or so, on the L from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

Him:  You’ll have to be more specific.

Me:  Um, you were drunk and talking very loudly.  Then some guy indicated that maybe you should be a little quieter, and not bother everyone.  Does this ring a bell yet?

Him:  I mean, it’s getting clearer, but I have a tendency to have altercations on the train when I’m drinking.

Me:  Okay, so, rather than quiet down, you started talking all ghetto, saying how you were a black lady who grew up in the projects and that you’d been on welfare and subsidized housing programs your entire life and that you didn’t have to take that kind of abuse from some over privileged white hipster boy.

Him:  Oh I remember that night!  Everyone on the train was laughing at that. 

Me:  Well, at first…  For the first 30 seconds or so, the hipster kids were really into your little rant.  But then it went on and on, for like 8 minutes.  Your friend was egging you on at 3rd avenue, but by the time we got to Bedford, nobody was laughing anymore and your friend was begging you to be quiet.   But, uh…  you kept going.

Him:  I don’t remember that.  I only remember being very funny.  Everyone was laughing. 

Me:  At first there was this certain amount of laughter, but then you took it way too far, and started talking about watermelon and chitlins, and all sorts of offensive stuff…  I don’t want to go into what all you said, but there were a growing number of people of color on the train who looked like they wanted to strangle you.   And to be honest, so did I.

Him:  Oh my God.  I don’t have to listen to this.  I have every right to say what I want on the train…  Why don’t you try having a sense of humor, for once?

Me:  You know what bothered me the most?  After you’d successfully alienated everyone on the train?  After that, you made eye contact with me and pointed and said, ‘Oh!  I know you!  You’re the flirty guy from the bar!’  And let me tell you, I was never so glad for it to be my stop as I was right then.

Him:  Oh sorry, Mister High-and-Mighty – I didn’t realize I’m not allowed to talk to you in public.  I drink, okay?  I like to have fun, okay???  I have a sense of humor and I won’t be censored by some tight-ass that doesn’t know how to have a good time!!

Me:  Listen…  I won’t lecture you or even tell you that your little rant on the train was racist, uncomfortable, and possibly worst of all – unfunny.  But don’t talk to me.  If you’re going to make that kind of scene in public, and alienate everyone on the train, DON’T turn around and involve me in your little circus act.  I’m not interested.

Him:  Okay…  Fine…  I won’t talk to you in public.

Me:  No.  You’re not hearing me.  I think you’re an obnoxious, racist brat.  You get wasted and grand stand for attention, which makes people titter for a few seconds, but ultimately leaves them feeling alienated and uncomfortable.

Him:  I think that –

Me:  You’re boring.  I don’t care what you think, or what you have to say.

Him:  How old are you??

Me:  Here’s what’s going to happen, okay?  Don’t talk to me.  Don’t ever talk to me again.  Okay?  Go get drunk with your mother and compete for boys, or whatever you do.  But don’t talk to me.  I will punch you, if you talk to me again.  Got it?

(long pause.  he opens his mouth to say something.  another long pause.  he closes his mouth.  he turns.  he walks away.)

 

Advice

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by eryc perez de tagle

Hey, you seem to give good advice a lot of the time so I figure you might be able to help me.  I’m 21 years old and have been out for about a year. All of my friends were completely cool about my coming out, and I guess it was a relatively seamless process.  Didn’t lose any friends or anything like that. But at the same time I’m still feeling pretty alone though.  I don’t have a single gay friend.  Not one.  And as much as I enjoy hanging out with my straight friends, it seems like I always end up being the token gay one who’s not going to meet anyone, ever, because we always seem to go places where there are no gay people.  The constant 5th wheel.  One of my friends has said she’s willing to go to a gay bar with me, but I would kind of just feel awkward about the whole thing.  I don’t know why; I can’t really put it into words.

At the same time that I guess my shyness is keeping me from meeting any other gay people, I feel / know that my life needs to change.  I need to get out there somehow and start meeting people or I’ll end up spending my life alone.  I’ve had a few flings with guys, but nothing serious.  It’s not even the sex that’s what’s important right now.  I just want the community, a sense of belonging somewhere and not being the odd one out if you understand what I mean.  i just have no idea how to get started.  So, this sounds really silly but my question is, how do I make gay friends?  Sorry if that just made me sound a little retarded. Ha.

Hugs,
Martin

Hey Martin,

Thanks for writing in.  Well, I think there’s a number of things you can do, if you want to get more involved  in the Gay community.  I hate to think of you out there, openly Gay with no like-minded friends to share the experience.  Since there seems to be Gay bars near you, I’m assuming you’re in a metropolitan setting, or at least a college town?  You should be able to do a quick Google search to find some LGBT groups near you that meet up in person at least once a week.

The other thing is – go out with your Straight friends that are offering to take you out.  Yeah, it might be awkward at first, but consider this:  they want the opportunity to support you and help you make Gay friends, so you might as well take it.  And, while being Gay doesn’t completely define who you are, it is a large chunk of you.  Your friends are curious about that side of you, and you’d do well to expose them to it.

The bar scene is not for everyone, so don’t get frustrated if you feel like an outsider, or if people seem a little aggressive, weird, or coarse.  People act surly sometimes when they’re drinking.  There should be lots of other, sober minded activities for LGBT people near you.  I know in New York there’s Gay Kickball and Gay Dodgeball, amongst other things.

My main advice is this – get out there.  Be gregarious.  Also, stay friendly and upbeat.  When I meet someone who seems ‘over it’ or sour, it’s a real turn off.  Also, if you meet someone you’d like to become friends with, ask them to hang out with you at a later date.  Make it clear you just want to be friends, but ask them to lunch, or shopping, or a movie.  You get the idea.  More than anything, this just takes the guts to walk up to someone who looks like they might be interesting, and say ‘hi.’

You can do it.  Be brave, Martin.

Michael

Hate Mail: Part One

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

pie photos by eryc perez de tagle

Him:  Hey, out of curiosity, I read a little of your blog, and I’d like to know how everyone BUT you can be a jerk when you end up saying some pretty inconsiderate things.  Yea, I know, the world has a few assholes in it, but why spread the bitterness, and then publicly post these conversations as if to reassure yourself that your side of the experience was the good side.  All I’m saying, is if you wanted a normal, safe place to live, where people behave accordingly, you shouldn’t have come to Brooklyn, or NYC for that matter.

Me:  I don’t think that everyone but me is a Jerk.  I don’t think I’m too inconsiderate, too often, but then again I think I’m being funny all the damn time.

You really think I’m spreading bitterness?  That’s interesting.  Most people contact me with the opposite reaction to my posts.  I’m not trying to reassure myself that I’m on the good side of anything – I’m just using my blog as an outlet to process jarring, awkward, or cringe-worthy things that happen to me, sometimes.

I guess it’s great that you’ve contacted me with your feedback?  Thanks?  Certainly I’m glad to know I’ve struck a chord with you, and that even if your reaction to my writing is negative – it’s resonating somewhere inside you.

Feel that?  It’s me.  Resonating.  Deep inside you.

But hey – are you really trying to imply that I should get out of New York if I don’t like this type of treatment?

Did you contact me just to tell me you don’t like me?  Interesting choice.

In any case, thanks for reading.

Jerk.

FriDATE: One of a Kind

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by roger wingfield

Him:  So this is Brooklyn.

Me:  That’s right.  Oldest borough. You look cute.

Him:  Thanks.  Oldest borough?  You mean Manhattan, right?

Me: I’m pretty sure Brooklyn is older than Manhattan.

Him:  That doesn’t make any sense.

Me: Um…   (short pause)  You have really nice hair.

Him:  I ought to.  I spent like 120 dollars at Kiehl’s the other day.  I hate when I do that.  That store is so easy to go crazy in there.  I went in there for eye cream and 120 dollars later, right?

Me:  Right.  I feel that way about my deli.  I go in there for Kim chi, and I wind up buying Kim chi and watermelon like a Rockefeller.

Him:  What do you use for eye cream?  Who’s a Rockefeller?

Me:  They’re like Donald Trump.  Pretend I said Donald Trump.

Him:  What about the eye cream?

Me:  Lotion.

Him:  What??

Me:  I use hand lotion.  Cetaphil, to be exact. They make a face lotion but I just use the hand and body lotion on my face too.  Why not?

Him:  Ew.  Doesn’t that clog your pores and dry out your skin?

Me: Nope.

Him:  I don’t believe you.

Me:  You shouldn’t.  I lie to people just for the sheer pleasure of it.  I like to see the moment of shocked betrayal when they find out I’ve been playing them for a fool.

Him:  Oh my god, do you?

Me:  No. That was a joke.

Him:  I don’t get it.

Me:  It wasn’t a good joke, is why.

Him:  Why did you tell it?

Me:  I had to try it out, to see.

Him:  Is that what your life is like?  Failure?

Me:  Um.  What?

Him:  I don’t mean it like that.  Wow.  That sounded bad – don’t blog about that.

Me:  I will, don’t worry.  That color looks good on you.  Really brings out your eyes.

Him: This is a one-of-a-kind garment.  The designer only made three of these.

Me:  So, it’s more like a one-of-three-kinds garment.

Him:  Um.  What?

Me:  You said the designer made three of them, so by logic, it can’t be one-of-a-kind.

(pause)

Him: It’s unique.

Me:  I’m sure you’re right.  The other two were probably lost in  a house fire, or the Holocaust, or got sucked into a temporal worm hole.

Him:  This shirt was 400 dollars, on sale.

Me:  Jesus.  That’s how much my guitar cost!

Him:  Really?

Me:  No, my guitar was a hundred bucks.  BUT.  That’s how much four of my guitars cost.  But you’d never be able to buy more than one of my guitar because it’s one-of-a-kind.

Him:  Is it?

Me:  Yes.  The manufacturer only made thousands.

Him:  Oh.  I get it.  You’re being a dick.

Me:  I’m being a dick.  You move really gracefully.

Him:  Really?  Thanks.

Me:  You’re welcome.

Him:  All these hipster types around here.  Ugh.  Makes me nervous.

Me:  Does it?  Why, I wonder?  It’s just a sub-culture, like hip hop, or redneck, or ivy league.  It’s just a small subset of a larger culture.

Him:  First of all – why do they want to stick out?  I just want to blend in and be accepted.  Second of all, if you look at them, they all have the same style which doesn’t make them unique at all.  There’s a conformity to the non-conformity.  It all looks the same to me.  I don’t get it.

Me:  Well…  I don’t get hip hop culture.  But it’s a counterculture to the mainstream, right?  But on the other hand, it doesn’t bother me that other people participate in it.  I just don’t get it.

Him:  Shhh.  Don’t say that.

Me:  What??

Him: You shouldn’t say that you don’t ‘get’ hip hop culture in public.

Me:  Why?

Him:  That’s racist!

Me:  Are you being ironic?

Him:  What’s irony?

(pause)

Me:  Me saying that I don’t keep up with hip hop isn’t racist, darling.  It’s the same as someone saying that they don’t like bluegrass music or the culture surrounding it.  I will admit to being ignorant about hip hop, though.  I don’t follow a lot of it.

Him:  See.  You shouldn’t be ignorant.

Me:  That’s a reductive statement.  Everyone is ignorant about a whole shit ton of stuff.  Most people are ignorant of the nuances of expert level Scrabble play, for instance.  But, you don’t see Scrabble players getting offended by that ignorance.

Him:  What?  Scrabble?  Do you like my shoes?

Me:  Yes.

Him:  They’re vintage Kenneth Cole.  They cost a lot of money.

Me:  Mine too.

Him:  Who are your shoes?

Me:  Who?  Oh.  You mean who designed them?

Him:  Yes.

Me:  They are from K-Mart.  I got them for free.  They were a costume in a play.

Him: Ew.  You’re an actor?

Me:  Yes.  I mention on the blog that I act and do comedy.

Him:  I only watch the videos.  I don’t like reading.  I like the pictures.  This might not work.  I don’t know about dating an actor.

Me:  Tell me about it.  I dated one. What do you do?

Him:  I work in the accounting section of a popular women’s fashion magazine.

Me:  Which one?

Him:  I prefer not to say.

Me:  Is it a fashion magazine for lady CIA agents?

Him:  No.  I just prefer not to say.

Me:  Okay.

Him:  I know it’s okay.  It’s my prerogative whether I tell you exactly where I work or not.

Me:  Know what?  It’s getting late.  I have to be up early.  Let me walk you to the train.

(long pause)

Him:  No.  I’ll take a car.

Me:  What?  It’s six blocks.

Him:  I’ll take a car.

Me:  I’ll call you one.  Jerk.

Him:  What did you say?

Me:  I said you’re one-of-a-kind.

SunDATE: I Wish I Never Met You

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by roger wingfield

Him:  Oh man!  That guy we met was so hot. 

Me:  He was pretty cute, huh?

Him:  It’s always like that.  I always meet the cutest guy, right when I’m leaving the bar.

Me:  What do you mean?

Him:  I’m talking about the guy we met at the bar, right when we were leaving.  When I bought those shots of Jager. 

Me:  Right.  That was the same guy you were dancing with for like half an hour.

Him:  What?  No it wasn’t.  Was it?

Me:  Yeah.  It was the same guy you were dancing with and bragging about how jealous you were making his boyfriend.

Him:  Whatever, I just breathed new life into their tired old relationship.

Me:  If you say so.  This train is taking forever…

(pause)

Him:  Are you coming home with me?

(pause)

Me:  Are you asking me back to your place for sex?

Him:  Well.  No.  I probably won’t have sex with you.  But cuddles…

Me:  No.

Him:  Why?

Me:  I don’t know.  It’s been a busy week.  Quite frankly I haven’t even had time to masturbate and it’s kind of building up inside me, I think.

Him:  So?

Me:  So, you pulling your normal hi-jinx might not put me in the best mood…

Him:  What?  How do I normally behave?

Me:  You’re pretty much a good friend when you’re sober, but when you drink a lot you like to dick tease me.

Him:  That’s not nice.  Why would you say that?

Me:  You do!  You make out with me at the bar and then invite me home where you make out with me again for about ten minutes and then start back peddling about how we’re just friends and we shouldn’t act like this…

Him:  That’s called expressing affection. 

Me:  It’s called being a tease.  Maybe it’s affection if it happens once or something, but every time we hang out and there’s drinking involved….  Plus, you’re so wasted that you thought the guy we talked to at the bar was a new person, and you’d been dancing with him all night.

Him:  Psssht.  It was dark in there…  Let’s congregate near those black people over there…

Me:  Stop it.  You’re in one of your moods.

Him:  What’s that mean?

Me:  You’re in one of your push-the-envelope moods.  I can’t see why we should go over to those people when you’re in one of your instigating moods.

Him:  What could happen?

Me:  I’m running different scenarios and I don’t come up with any good outcomes.

Him:  You’re no fun.

Me:  Because I don’t want to go bother those people?  Hey.  The train is here.  Get on the train.

(we get on the train)

Him: If you could change anything about our relationship from the past 6 years what would you change?

Me:  Well, firstly, we’ve only known each other for 4 years.

Him:  Whatever, what would you change?

Me:  I…  I guess I’d be more sensitive toward your feelings, there, in the beginning when you had that crush on me.

(pause)

Me:  What would you change?

Him:  Oh, I wouldn’t have talked to you.  At all. 

Me:  What??

Him:  Yeah.  You put me through a whole lot of pain and heart ache.  I wish I could go back and never have gotten to know you.

Me:  What a thing to say.

Him:  Sorry.

Me:  You say the sweetest things.  Really.

Him:  It’s just how I feel.  Sometimes I wish I never met you.

(long pause)

Me:  Well this is my stop.  I’m transferring here.

Him:  Just come home with me.

(pause)

Me:  No…  But have a nice night.  Congrats again, on passing the bar.

Him:  Fuck you.

Me:  I love you, kiddo.

Him:  Fuck.  You.

Me:  Please get home safe.  Jerk.

FriDATE: I Love You

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Him:  I love this place.

Me:  I know.  It’s gonna be hard, not having coffee here when you go back to Chicago, right?

Him:  I can’t believe I stayed here the whole five days.  I was supposed to play it cool, stay with friends a night or two…

(pause)

Me:  Oh.  No.

Him:  What?

Me:  Oh man.  Look at that couple that just walked in.

Him:  Do you know them?

Me:  Uh.  No.  But I can’t stand them.

Him:  I’m sorry? 

Me:  This happens to me only rarely.  Sometimes I decide that I don’t like someone based solely on observing them for an extended period of time.

Him:  OH!  Yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about.  What did these two do?

Me:  You know, I can’t say, exactly.  It’s just….  them.  I’ve seen them all over the neighborhood lately.  I’d never seen them before and then they started popping up everywhere, turning their noses up at things…

Him:  You’re talking about the Gay couple that just walked in?

Me:  Uh.  Yes…  Do you see anyone else snootily turning their noses up at everything?

Him:  Hm.  Good point.

Me:  Watch them.   They’ll be perfectly friendly, but they’ll have a snotty, snide air the whole time.  They’re even worse on the train, when they’re not on good behavior.

Him:  This is good behavior?

Me:  Apparently.  Look at the tall one.  He’s the worst.  The smaller one, the red head, would be okay on his own, but together they’re this big, palpable, Gay nuisance.

Him:  I agree.  The red head is simply beady-eyed, and untrustworthy.   But the taller one, he just oozes sarcasm and punishing Gay hipster irony. 

Me:  Yes.  Somebody was mean to him in high school, and now he’s making up for it by cunting all over younger, more impressionable art Fags.  Uh oh…

Him:  What?

Me:  It’s occurring to me that we’re as bad as them.  We’re being as judgmental as we imagine them to be.

Him:  Don’t say that!  We can’t be as awful as them.  We at least control our facial expressions.

Me:  True enough, the taller, more stork-like one walks around all day with a scrunched up scowl.

Him:  As if he’s constantly smelling bad cheese.

Me:  HA.  Exactly.

Him:  Safe to say, we don’t know them but we hate them.

Me:  Ha.  Okay.  Oh.

Him:  What?

Me:  Speaking of love and hate.

Him:  Yes?

Me:  Last night…  when i was boning you…

Him:  Oh no.  I thought you missed that! I thought you didn’t notice.

Me:  Uh.  People notice stuff like that.

Him:  DON’T.  It was a syntax error, if anything.

Me:  I think you mean scansion.  It didn’t scan the way you intended.

Him:  So embarrassing.  Why would you bring this up now?

Me:  Hey, it’s not every day that someone you’ve known for a week says ‘I love you,’ while you’re having sex.

Him:  I said:  “I love you inside me.”

Me:  You said ‘I love you,’ and then a long pause, and then you said,’ inside me.’

(long pause)

Me:  It’s okay.  I thought it was cute.  I was like ‘aw…  he’s having I love you fantasies.’

Him:  No, that’s not it.  It was feeling really good, and I meant to say I love you inside me, but in the middle of the sentence i got caught up in what was going on.  It was just a mistake.

Me:  Hey.  I am just breaking your balls.  I know it wasn’t a love confession.  If anything I thought it was cute.

Him:  Okay.   That’s good to know. 

(pause)

Him:  Oh, look at them now.  Looks like the storky one doesn’t like his pastry.

Me:  Oh NO!!  His Sunday afternoon is ruined!!

Him:  Whatever will he DO??

Me:  He’ll have to be content with his own sense of self satisfaction.  It will have to suffice.

Him:  Somehow, I think it will.

Me:  Hey, can I say something?

Him:  Okay.

Me:  I really love you.

(long pause)

Me:  When you make fun of people with me.

Him:  You’re such a jerk.

Me:  You’re right.  I am.

SunDATE: Pretty

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

allison michael orenstein

Him:  So here he is. 

Me:  So here HE is.  Look at you, small drink of water.  Good looking guy, huh?

Him:  STOP IT.

Me:  I mean it.  You’re gorgeous. Better than your pics on Grindr.

Him:  Isn’t Grindr weird? I’ve met some real creeps.

Me:  I’ve met jerks and nice people.  No real creeps.

Him: Maybe that’s because you’re the creep?

Me:  Nice.  I tell you you’re pretty, twice, and you imply that I’m a creep.  You should write a book on dating.

Him:  Uh oh.  Am I one of your online Jerks?

Me:  Are you?

(pause)

Him:  No.

Me:  Well there it is.

(pause)

additional photos:  eryc perez de tagle

Him:  Anyway, who keeps score?

Me: Of what?

Him:  Of that sort of stupid stuff?  Compliments and whatnot. 

Me:  Obviously I do.  I just demonstrated that I do.

(pause)

Me:  Relax.  I might be joking, you know…  I might just still think you’re an attractive little wonder, at 5’6”.

Him:  Stop saying little.  I don’t like to feel little.

(I’m feeling brave, and so I take a step toward him.  I put my face next to his.  I can feel the breath come out of my nose against his cheek.  He smells spicy.  Like cinnamon or ginger, but not quite those things. )

Me:  What about now?  Do you feel little now?

Him:  Yes.

(I put my hands on his ribcage and squeeze gently.  The hair stands up on my arms. Ii have goosebumps)

Me: But don’t you kind of feel really powerful?

Him:  Yes.

Me:  You’re pretty.

Him:  Ugh.

(He moves away)

Me:  Haha…  okay.  So, no saying you’re little, and I’m guessing no ‘pretty’ either?

Him:  Why not handsome?  Why can’t I be handsome?

Me:  You can.  You are.  You’re very handsome.  You’re also pretty.

Him:  Ugh.

Me:  Well the good news is: I like pretty.  So dry your eyes on that.

Him:  You’re cute. 

Me: Compliment number one.

Him:  What?

Me:  That’s the first compliment you ever gave me, in person.

Him:  Oh great.  How far behind am I?

Me:  Only a few, but I’d rather stay ahead in the compliment game, if you don’t mind?

Him:  Can I ask you a question?

Me:  No.

Him:  What?

Me:  Sorry.  That was supposed to be funny.  I said no, when the only appropriate answer was yes.  I thought it would be funny.

Him:  Was it?

Me:  Yes, but you’ll just have to trust me.  You didn’t see your face when I said it.  It was funny.

Him:  I guess I’ll have to believe you.

Me:  Good.  Because I’m lying.

Him:  What??

Me:  Sorry.  That was another joke.  That one wasn’t funny.  I get nervous and act like an idiot.

Him:  You make it charming, somehow. 

Me:  You didn’t know me in college.

Him:  Were you different?

Me:  I was nearly insufferable.

Him:  You’re pretty too.

Me:  Shucks.  Okay.  That’s two for you.  Fuck.

(long pause)

Him:  You’re not some sort of creepy Rice Queen, are you?

Me:  Uh…  I mean..  I thought that was obvious?  You’ve been to my website, right?

Him:  Yeah.  There’s lots of Asians. 

Me:  But not ALL Asians, right?  I like a lot of things.  A lot of people.  I like kind people.  Asians are kind, frequently, if you’re kind to them.

Him:  I guess that’s not so creepy.  I guess that’s okay for Asians.

Me:  Yeah.  Well I forgot to say:  I feed on their tears.  Keeps me young.  I’m like a succubus, or a psychic vampire of some sort.  I’m 183 years old.  I make them cry and then drink their salty tears.  But it only works with Asians.

Him:  Really? 

Me:  Yes.  And did you also know that Black people can levitate?  They’re hiding it from you.

(long pause.  he starts laughing a lot)

Him:  You’re joking! 

Me:  Yes.  And you’re laughing.  That means…..

Him:  What does that mean? 

Me:  It means, you get a kiss, if you want one, later.

Him:  I’ll decide later if I do.

Me: Oh.  I like that.

Him:  Really?

Me:  No.  It’s infuriating.   I’d rather you just gave me one.

(We kept talking and walking.  Later, he gave me a quick kiss.  It was a good kiss.)

ThursDATE

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

kristen yoonsoo kim

Him:  Hey.

Me:  Hey.  Are you K.?

Him:  Yeah that’s right.  Why?  Disappointed?

Me:  Uh, no.  Not at all.  You’re very attractive.

(pause)

Me:  Why?  Are people usually disappointed?

Him:  Ha. No.  Why would they be??

Me:  Uh..  I don’t….  Did I sound disappointed?

Him:  No, I was just feeling insecure, duh…

Me:  Oh okay.  Yeah…  Duh.

Him:  I hope you don’t think I’m going to bottom for you, just because we met up for coffee.

Me:  Wait, what?

Him:  Coffee is coffee.  I want to make that clear.

Me:  Okay.  I know what coffee is.

Him:  I’m not even a bottom.  I don’t really bottom that much.

Me:  Hey.  That’s fine.  We’re just grabbing a cup of coffee, like you said.

Him:  Fine.

(pause)

Me:  Do people frequently think you’re a bottom?

Him:  Yeah, and it’s irritating.

Me:  Why so?

Him:  I want to be more than just that. 

Me:  Well, most people on Adam4Adam are looking to have sex.

Him:  I know.  I don’t mind hooking up, if the vibe is right.

Me:  I thought you were looking for more than that.

Him:  Well…  ultimately…  but I have to live a life, don’t I?

Me:  Okay.

Him:  Anyway, I don’t want to come off like some bottom slut.

Me: Cool it, mister.  You’re doing fine.  Just relax.

(pause)

Me:  Also, you shouldn’t list yourself as a bottom on online dating sites, if you don’t want people to think that of you.

Him:  But that’s what I like!  I like to bottom.  I much prefer it.

Me:  So, then you’re a bottom.

Him:  Stop it!  I don’t want people thinking that!!

Me:  Jesus.  Okay.  My bad.

(pause)

Him:  Are you disappointed?

Me:  No.

Him:  I feel like you’re disappointed. 

Me:  I’m not.  It’s just a lot.

Him:  Don’t SAY that!!  What’s a lot?

Me:  All this.  I meet up with you for a cup of coffee, and we’re here not more than four minutes, and you’re talking about how you’re a bottom/not a bottom/not to expect you to bottom and wondering if I’m disappointed.

Him:  I knew it.  You’re disappointed.

Me:  I’m not.  I’m just a little overwhelmed.  Can’t we just hang out and chat for a second like normal people?

Him:  Okay.  Fine.

(long pause)

Me:  So when’s the last time you bottomed?

Him:  WHAT?

Me:  Sorry.  That’s my sense of humor.  I thought it would be funny to ask that question, after this totally awkward exchange.  I thought it was funny.  Sorry.

Him:  You shouldn’t be so forward.

Me:  To be fair, you brought up bottoming like, two seconds into this conversation, so…

Him:  Stop!  It’s difficult.  Everyone thinks I’m a bottom.

Me:  I know.  Now I can’t wait until you go to the bathroom.

Him:  Why?  Txt your friends how disappointed you are?

Me:  I’m. Not. Disappointed.

Him:  Why do you want me to go to the bathroom, then?

Me:  I want to see this bottom that everyone’s going nuts over.

Him:  Oh stop it.  You’re way too forward.

Me:  You’re totally right.  I am.  I am way too forward.

Him:  What are you doing after this?

Me:  Some light work at home.   Maybe cooking dinner.  Why?

Him:  I kind of feel like bottoming.

(long pause.  we both start laughing)