Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Glass Houses



Don’t do hate it when you end up being the very thing you hate in others?

I found out that I’m a fickle queen.

For those of you that know me or know my blog, you know that I’ve been known to moan a time or two about being single and the lack of male attention.

I recently met a nice, attractive guy from a nearby town that showered me with (constant) attention.

I hated it. I felt smothered. I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

I tired to pinpoint just what the problem was and the only thing I could come up with were his lack of conversational skills.

In other words, he was boring and didn’t talk very much.

Our telephone conversations usually went something like this:

Me- “Hi darling, how was your day?”

Him- “Okay.”

Me- “So, what did you do today?”

Him- “Nothing.”

Me- “Tell me something interesting then…”

Him- “What do you want me to say?”

Me- “What are we doing Friday night?”

Him- “I don’t know, what do you want to do?”

Ugggh!

I hate, hate, hate people that make me do all the talking. When I get on the phone with a guy and he’s just answering me with yes/no and there’s those long, uncomfortable silences, I tend to want to fill up all those conversational gaps and end up chattering like a chipmunk on crack.

Not pretty.

So, if any of you any out there interested are interested in me, you better be about to talk and hold a conversation or you’re gonna miss out of some of the best nookie (in my humble opinion) in North Carolina.


Last Wednesday, a coworker noticed me being unusually quiet and asked if everything was okay. I confided that I’d had a disappointing date the evening before and was still a little upset with myself. I had gone out to have coffee with another guy I’d just met online.

This guy was one of those rugged, uber masculine gays that were obsessed with being “straight-acting” and being able to pass for heterosexual.

He wore his rejection of all things gay like a badge of honor and I wasn't impressed.

He kept pumping me to see if I was into "guy" things.

Did I like football?

Did I like to play golf?

Did I like camping?

Did I like heavy metal? (He couldn't stand "faggy" music like Lady GaGa)

The finally nail in the coffin for me was this:

He was fat.

He must have been about 5’10” and weighed a good 275.

Here you might ask, "Didn't you see a picture of him first ?"

Or

"Well, what did his stats say in his online profile ?"

Yes, I did see a pic first. A tightly-cropped face pic (hear the warning bells?) and he doesn't have the usual pudgy face that most overweight people have.

His stats stated that he had a beefy, football player's build. That, I liked. I'm a small guy and I like guys that are bigger that me.

Football player's build, my ass !

I like to think that I’m evolved enough to be able to see past outward, physical appearances and being able to concentrate on the beauty that lies within, but somehow, I just couldn’t seem to manage it this time. 

I’m ashamed that my mental litmus test for datability didn’t disqualify him based on his self-hating, “straight-acting”, overly macho personality but instead it was his sheer corpulence that caused my brain screamed out a resounding “Hell-Fuckin’-No !”

The next day I felt horrible.

I mean, I know I’m no prize. Who am I to discriminate against him?

My coworker commented that I was certainly allowed to feel the way I did and that I shouldn’t feel guilty.

But...

I hate being a dickhead.

4 comments:

Miss_Lola_77 said...

Eh, to be fair, if the chunky guy was a sparkling conversationalist, witty and flirty, you probably would have found him attractive by the end of the date. A shit personality makes anyone look ugly.

KenPaul66 said...

True, Miss Lola. A friend commented that if he'd been the "one", I wouldn't have cared about his size.

Anonymous said...

Sorry you had such a big, fat shitty date. Miss Lola is right. If his personality had been decent he might have been a good guy despite his looks.

Don't let that clunker get you down. I'm sure a better date is just around the corner.

spiky said...

making a gayest visit from Philippines. :)