Hi I’m Mike, I’m an alcoholic.
Yes I KNOW this isn’t an AA meeting. I go to enough fucking AA meetings to tell the difference between an AA meeting and a blog post. The reason I’m here tonight is because you’re not allowed to talk about your sex life in AA meetings. And I think I might have a problem.
My problem is, I keep going about dating like I’m trying to adopt a rescue dog. And as it turns out- cute, unaccustomed to being loved, AND hypoallergenic IS, in fact, too much to ask. So I always wind up sleeping with guys in their early 20s. Which is great. But also problematic.
It’s great because they’re so horny… and so easily impressed. All you have to do is one really acrobatic maneuver and suddenly they get all “Ohmigod! I’ve never been fucked like that. I think we might be soulmates!” Which makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside and you’re like “Ohh you’re welcome. Come again!”
The problem is, 20-year-olds used to be my age. And now I’m 32, and they’re millennials. Which makes things SO much more aggravating.
Like this 21yo guy I’ve been hanging out with here in Austin. Whenever I pick him up, he is always on his phone. I just wanna be like “Get off your fuckin’ Snapchat… can’t you see I’m tryin’a tap that?” Which kind of sounds like a rap song. Maybe I should start calling myself Gay-Z. “H to the izz-O! M to the other-O…” Dude I would be the dorkiest, horniest rapper ever. (Ok maybe not horniest. Definitely dorkiest though.)
Anyway… He keeps checking his Grindr messages while we’re in my car. I finally said to him, “That’s rude. Look… I know you think I’m just some weird old dude that’s going to drive you around and buy you drinks, but I’ll have you know… there’s a lot more to me than that.”
And yet, he maintains that checking his Grindr is like checking the weather, only with dick pics.
So I told him about this other guy, a 20yo I was hanging out with in NY- Super cute, super smart, really into musical theater… two out of three ain’t bad, right?
On our first date he actually said, and I quote, “You remind me of a guy I used to date. He was about your age… Same sort of neuroses.”
Which I thought was odd, but the rest of the date went well. Lots of acrobatics, stuck the landing… even spent the night. So, like, really well.
The next day I was thinking about him, and I was like “Ohmigod that’s so CUTE he called me neurotic! He must feel *really* comfortable with me.”
But the following day, I hadn’t heard from him, so I’m like “Wait… why would he say that? AM I neurotic? I’m not neurotic. I’m *way* less neurotic than I used to be.”
Day 3, I still haven’t heard from him, and I’m like “I’M not neurotic… HE must be neurotic… He must be like, pro-ject-ing HIS neuroses onto ME.”
Day 4, I’m like “WHYYY HASNT HE CALLED?!?! WE DID IT AGAIN IN THE MORNING!!!!”
Day 5, I’m sitting in my car… in the garage… with the engine running. I’ve got a gun, a knife… a noose tied to the head rest… the candlestick, the lead pipe, I forget what else… When the phone rings. And it’s him.
“Hey, what’s up? … Oh, no worries, I had a busy week too. That’s so funny… I was JUST thinking about you…” (Crazy eyes/head tilt)
So we decide to go on a second date. (This is the part I told the Austin guy about.) My parents had given me tickets to see Hedwig on Broadway for my birthday, so I decided to take him with me. The show was great, but on the way from there to this party in Brooklyn, he kept checking his Grindr in the car, and I got really pissed.
But I figured I had to be mature about this.
So I pulled over, and I looked at him and I said, “Listen… I don’t want to put a damper on tonight because I’ve been having a great time, but if you keep checking your Grindr I’m going to push you out of the fucking car on the BQE and tell the cops you jumped.”
He got all wide eyed and sounded genuinely scared. “Ohh ok… I’m sorry…”
I figured… that went well. So on we went to the party in Brooklyn, and eventually wound up in a penthouse overlooking Central Park, where my friends were raiding some mogul’s wine fridge and smoking joints on his rooftop. From there we went back to the hotel, where he spent the night throwing up, which unfortunately had nothing to do with his gag reflex, and everything to do with his tolerance. (Or lack thereof.)
We did it again in the morning though, after he had slept. And it was just as good, too. At one point I said to him “you keep doing that, you’re going to tip me over the edge…” And he looked at me wide eyed and said “That’s…” and took a long shaky breath, then nodded his head once like I had just dropped a beat, “Awesome!”
So, I told this story (minus a few details) to the 21yo here in Austin, and said, “You’re doing the same things, and that’s why I can’t take you seriously.”
He thought about it for a second and then looked at me, and said, “So… you’re saying there’s hope for us.”
He turned out to be right though. I took him out to dinner for watching my cat while I was in NY, and don’t ask me how it came up, but he wound up telling me about this time that he was on Cam4, and some guy told him he would pay him to watch him shave his head.
So he got his clippers out and buzzed one strip, and the guy was like “Hot! Do it again” so he buzzed another strip.
And, as he put it, “Then the guy signed off without paying me, so I was left there with the clippers in my head like UHH…”
My heart sank. But he just shrugged, as the waiter arrived at our table, and said, “And that’s why children should not be allowed to use the Internet.”
I was dumbstruck. “Marry me.”
He looked confused by the question.
“That’s not a joke,” I said.
He paused. “I accept.” Then he looked up at the waiter. “Ok I would like an everything bagel, with…”
So yea. Invitations to follow. But like, is there a rehab I can go to for this sort of thing?
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