Royalty?

His name is Kody. He goes by Count Kody. I asked if he was a real Count and he just starred at me. I have never figured out if that meant, "why would you ask such a stupid question? of course I am" OR "why would you ask such a stupid question? there are no real Counts"
Regardless, it was a stupid question. I've never actually asked that question to any human being before. To my friends, he is known as the Count. "Is the Count coming with you?" What are you and the Count doing next weekend?

We met at Madison Pub and I gave him my number. He called me the next day and we made plans to meet the next Friday night at Boom Noodle for dinner. He arrived wearing a cowboy hat, a white tuxedo shirt with ruffles, a bright purple scarf, holey acid washed tight jeans and alligator cowboy boots.

Kody is a little bit shorter than me a whole lot skinnier. I'd kill for his body. He has rock star long hair. Most of what I know about him, I learned from his website, or from a few of the friends that I've met through him. He is an event planner and a tour guide. He has a grandmother in Washington DC. I believe he lives off a trust fund of some sort.

After dinner we walk to his apartment. It has 3 huge crystal chandeliers and nice museum quality oil paintings with gawdy frames hanging on the walls. He has a red velvet drape above his bed, and another one hanging at the head . He has an oil painting of what looks like the Virgin Mary hanging on the drape at the head of the bed. He has two spotlights aimed at the picture.

I told him nothing was going to happen with Mary watching. He said, that's not Mary, it's St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. Well I guess that's OK then. But Christopher looks a lot like Mary. I bet no one has ever seen the two of them in the same room. It was kind of weird with him/her watching, under spotlights!

Kody has never asked anything about me. He doesn't know or care where I work, how old I am, anything about my family, nothing nada. If he asked me, then I guess I could ask him and he would have to answer me with those weird stares. He enjoys showing me off to his friends, and insists on walking hand in hand on the streets and he sits right next to me at restaurants. But he won't kiss. Even when we are alone. I think I'm his trophy straight acting gay boyfriend. I've never been a trophy before, and I will have to think long and hard about how I feel about this. I really don't think we are boy friends either.

So why am I still seeing this guy? Part of me is fascinated in meeting someone so unlike me. I've never met anyone like him. I will go along for the ride and see where the trip takes me.

You have to admit I really do meet some interesting guys. Remember the professional wrestler and the stalker? Now the Count.

Until Next Time - Wise OUT