It's that time of year again. I don't mean the turkey and dressing, or the shopping or the feeling of love for everyone, except the jerk in front of you who steals the last parking spot at the mall.
No, it's that confusing time that you have to decide what health insurance you want to select for next year. At Alaska we call it Open Enrollment.
Last year I selected the regular PPO (not sure what PPO stands for). This meant that I paid $25 copay every time I went to the doctor, the dentist or the eye guy. I forgot what eye guys are called. I also had a $300 deductible, which means I had to pay the first $300. Then the insurance kicks in and pays 80% of everything else. It gets kind of confusing, not sure if the $25 copay goes towards the deductible.
They also have this thing called a Flexible Spending Account. This is an account that I can put pre-tax money into every pay day. I can use this money for copays, and other approved medical services. Doing no research I sign up to put in $50 per pay day. This is a total of $1300. You have to spend the money in the calendar year or you loose it. At the beginning of November, I check to see how much I have left. Imagine my surprise when I discover that I have only 2 months to spend $800.
As most of you know, of all my senses, my hearing is the worst. I can barely hear anything out of my left ear. I'm thinking that $800 just might buy me a hearing aid. This was a huge decision for me as I'm kind of vain. I know that's hard to believe for a lot of you.
Being a little naive, I figure I'll just go to the store or online and order a hearing aid. Did you know that you actually need a prescription? I google hearing aid prescription and I find out that an audiologist writes the prescription. I look up audiologists and find one near my place on Capitol Hill. I make an appointment and take the day off.
After signing all the forms you have to do when you are a new patient, they want my $25 copay. I'm now down to $775. The first thing the audiologist asks me is if I have seen the ear, nose and throat specialist?
No
Well you have to see them first. Luckily for me she has some sort of relationship with the ear, nose and throat doctor across the hall, and sends me over there.
Of course I have no appointment, but after I pay another $25 copay ($750) they squeeze me in. He looks at my throat, my nose and my ears. This is why he must make the big bucks. He
doesn't say much except to tell me to go back across the hall and get a hearing test.
I'm a little perturbed and I'm daring for someone to ask for another copay. But I guess your second visit in one day is free. I spend about a half hour taking the test. Then she tells me that I have to go back across the hall as the ear, nose and throat doctor will go over the results.
Again, no appointment so again I'm squeezed in. He looks at the results and tells me that I have hearing loss in my left ear!
4 years of medical school and 4 more years of residency to tell me that I can't hear out of my left ear.
OK, write me the prescription and I will be on my way.
Not so fast, he says. This type of hearing loss can be genetic or caused by a brain tumor.
What?
Yes, about 2% of this type of hearing loss is caused by a brain tumor.
OH, well 2% isn't bad.
You don't understand, we used to think it was 1 in 10,000. But we discovered it's actually 2 in every 100.
Why does 2 in a 100 sound so much worse than 2%? I started imagining all sorts of scenarios, none of them very pretty. A brain tumor would explain a lot of things besides the hearing loss.
He tells me that I need to get an MRI to rule out the tumor. They call the Radiologist place and make an appointment for me in about 10 days! What if I die in those 10 days?
Those days were very scary and I was a nervous wreck. I didn't tell a lot of people - I mean there was a 98% chance I was fine.
I took another day off work and went to the MRI place. I was in the waiting room and I counted everyone waiting. There were 49 of us waiting. This meant that one of us had a brain tumor. I just knew it was me.
There was no copay for the MRI but they told me they would send a bill to cover whatever the insurance wouldn't pay. After the MRI, they gave me a CD and I was to take it back to the ear, nose and throat doctor. It was about 2 blocks away and it was a very long walk.
Once I got to the doctor they wanted yet another copay. $725 left if you are keeping track. With no fan fare the doctor simply says you don't have a brain tumor.
Whew that was a relief. I expected a little more excitement on his part. No, brain tumor you simply have a loss of hearing in your left ear. After all the stress I wanted to scream at him
JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING PRESCRIPTION.
Of course what I said was,
Can I have the prescription?
No, I don't write those prescriptions, you need to go across the hall and have the audiologist write it up!
I get up and say I'll go now.
OH, she doesn't work on Mondays. You will have to make an appointment for another day.
This will take another day off and another copay ($700).
Also I learn about the math of insurance companies. They pay 80%. Not of the actual cost, but what they think it should cost. I just got the bill for the MRI and my portion is $399. Now I only have $301 left. And another bill from a Laboratory for something called an Inner Ear Ag and and FTGA/Abs and a Draw fee. This bill was for over $400. My share is $44.68.
I'm down to about $250 not enough to buy a hearing aid.
But it's still a lot of money to spend on medical supplies in the next couple weeks.
I guess I will have to go to Costco and buy a life time supply of Q Tips.
No wonder health insurance is so expensive, and I just bet that the jerk that stole your parking spot at the mall is somehow related to the health insurance industry.
Bottom Line: I'm lucky I have no brain tumor.
Have a Great December,
Happy Hanukkah
Merry Christmas
Happy Islamic New Year
Kind Kwanza
Beautiful Boxing Day
Happy New Year
and a Festive Festivus (the holiday for the rest of us)
Peace
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Lessons Learned
I felt bad that I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.
As a kid this was something my mom used to tell me. I had no idea what it meant except, STOP WHINING. In those days it was OK to smack kids, so I would shut up. I never thought much about the parable until recently.
It was a Friday night, which meant I was at Martins. Next to the Piano Bar there's a smaller room which contains the actual bar and a few tables. On Friday you can find two guys, that I describe as characters, playing dominos.
Bud, who just turned 80 came out about 10 years ago after his wife died. He's harmless but he is a 'dirty old man'. He likes to cop a feel, so it's best to stay an arms length away. But he is very funny and has some great stories. What I like about Bud is that he's constantly commenting on what's going on around him, and he calls me "Young Fellow".
Larry is the second guy of the domino duo. He looks like he just stepped out of a Raegae Rave. He's a big Black guy, maybe in his 50's, with long dreads. He has an infectuous laugh and he loves Bud's jokes.
They are always looking for others to join them in the game. Watching and actually playing a few times, it seems that the rules change from 2 to 3 to 4 players. Trust me, you really don't want to play with Larry. He may be stoned, but he can add spots on dominos faster than any computer.
This Friday the Piano Bar is packed, so I wander over to the other side. Bud and Larry are sitting at their table and there is a 3rd guy playing along. Bud introduces me to Phil. He's just an inch or so shorter than me, but about 20 lbs lighter. We shake hands and continue to talk throughout the game.
After a couple hours and a few drinks, I tell them that I have to go home. Phil asked where I lived. I told him about 4 blocks away. Despite being smaller than me, he announces that he is going to walk me home to make sure I get there safely. Later I find out that he's been in many fights.
He walks me to my condo and I ask him up. He says no. Maybe next time. We hug goodnight, then start making out. I reach down to see if the kissing is having the same effect on him as it is me, but he grabs my hand and pulls it away.
"We need to talk" he tells me.
I was bracing myself for the "I'm Positive" speech.
Instead, I was stunned when he stated:
I'm a boy,
But I used to be a girl
Now I'm a boy.
Silence, I had no idea what to say. He filled the silence by further surprising me:
And I decided that it wasn't worth the $40k extra to get the surgery to get the boy part!
We then sat down on the sidewalk bench. For the next hour we talked. He was very candid and answered all my questions. He told me about how he's not accepted by gays and how he's been beat up by straight guys. I found out that it's more common for boys to become girls than it is the other way around. I learned so much from Phil, but I had to be honest with him, as a gay male, the boy part is really important.
Chaz Bono (yes Cher's daughter) has recently gone through this gender reassignment and now considers himself a male. But Chaz has publicly stated that he hasn't decided if he's going to get a penis. Chaz said that sex identification is more between your ears, than between your legs.
Just when I thought I had experienced everything, I meet Phil. I have a new respect for these brave souls. And I found a new friend.
The issues and heartaches that I've had to face are nothing compared to the life that Phil has had to live. I now know the meaning of the story:
Until I met a man who had no . . .
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
As a kid this was something my mom used to tell me. I had no idea what it meant except, STOP WHINING. In those days it was OK to smack kids, so I would shut up. I never thought much about the parable until recently.
It was a Friday night, which meant I was at Martins. Next to the Piano Bar there's a smaller room which contains the actual bar and a few tables. On Friday you can find two guys, that I describe as characters, playing dominos.
Bud, who just turned 80 came out about 10 years ago after his wife died. He's harmless but he is a 'dirty old man'. He likes to cop a feel, so it's best to stay an arms length away. But he is very funny and has some great stories. What I like about Bud is that he's constantly commenting on what's going on around him, and he calls me "Young Fellow".
Larry is the second guy of the domino duo. He looks like he just stepped out of a Raegae Rave. He's a big Black guy, maybe in his 50's, with long dreads. He has an infectuous laugh and he loves Bud's jokes.
They are always looking for others to join them in the game. Watching and actually playing a few times, it seems that the rules change from 2 to 3 to 4 players. Trust me, you really don't want to play with Larry. He may be stoned, but he can add spots on dominos faster than any computer.
This Friday the Piano Bar is packed, so I wander over to the other side. Bud and Larry are sitting at their table and there is a 3rd guy playing along. Bud introduces me to Phil. He's just an inch or so shorter than me, but about 20 lbs lighter. We shake hands and continue to talk throughout the game.
After a couple hours and a few drinks, I tell them that I have to go home. Phil asked where I lived. I told him about 4 blocks away. Despite being smaller than me, he announces that he is going to walk me home to make sure I get there safely. Later I find out that he's been in many fights.
He walks me to my condo and I ask him up. He says no. Maybe next time. We hug goodnight, then start making out. I reach down to see if the kissing is having the same effect on him as it is me, but he grabs my hand and pulls it away.
"We need to talk" he tells me.
I was bracing myself for the "I'm Positive" speech.
Instead, I was stunned when he stated:
I'm a boy,
But I used to be a girl
Now I'm a boy.
Silence, I had no idea what to say. He filled the silence by further surprising me:
And I decided that it wasn't worth the $40k extra to get the surgery to get the boy part!
We then sat down on the sidewalk bench. For the next hour we talked. He was very candid and answered all my questions. He told me about how he's not accepted by gays and how he's been beat up by straight guys. I found out that it's more common for boys to become girls than it is the other way around. I learned so much from Phil, but I had to be honest with him, as a gay male, the boy part is really important.
Chaz Bono (yes Cher's daughter) has recently gone through this gender reassignment and now considers himself a male. But Chaz has publicly stated that he hasn't decided if he's going to get a penis. Chaz said that sex identification is more between your ears, than between your legs.
Just when I thought I had experienced everything, I meet Phil. I have a new respect for these brave souls. And I found a new friend.
The issues and heartaches that I've had to face are nothing compared to the life that Phil has had to live. I now know the meaning of the story:
Until I met a man who had no . . .
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Thursday, October 1, 2009
match dot com
It had been a couple months since "S" and I broke up. I was tired of going out and hooking up. I was ready for a real relationship. I was surfing the internet and a pop up ad "popped up", hence the name. It was for match.com. Online dating has been successful for many people. A couple years ago I had tried putting an ad on Craig's List. Read my blogs Aug. 2007 titled "Craig's List", "Halfway House Boy", and "40 Year Old Grandpa" to see how successful I was with my last venture into online dating. But now, I was a couple years older and wiser (I hope).
I click on the ad, showing 2 very hot and seemingly happy guys. It took me directly to the registration page. I gave them some personal data and my credit card number. This will cost me $200, just about $200 more than Craigs List cost. In my feeble mind, I'm assuming that "you get what you pay for". I'm dreaming of great guys just waiting to date me, all for $200 for a 6 month trial period.
I spent the next two nights answering all their questions (it's called building my profile), and telling what I'm looking for in a guy. Answering these questions I realized that my standards are pretty low. Non-Smoker, Aged between 30 and 50, and live about 25 miles from my zip code. You would think that would be a lot of guys. In fact they promised that they would send me 5 suggested guys every day! Wow, they made this easy. I actually went into my calendar and blocked out the next several weekends for these match dot com dates.
The first night, I get my 5 suggested dates. I emailed each of them and told them I was interested. This happened for a week, and email to each guy every night. 7 days, 5 guys, 35 emails. Nothing.
Finally in week 2, I get an email from a non-recommended guy. He had read my profile and was interested. OK, that's cool. We sent a couple emails back and forth and then he gave me his phone number. I called him and the first words out of his mouth were:
"You will have to come up to Edmonds, because my car was re-possessed. You will have to pay, because I lost my job last month. It was my 4th job in 3 months!"
He is 47 years old and has moved back home with his parents. I politely told him that I didn't think it was a good match.
Just days later, the second guy was actually a recommended guy. He emailed me and we started a 2 or 3 a day email exchange. He had just moved to Seattle but he was out of town currently for work. Later he told me he was an antique dealer and was in Nigeria. (Why do they always have to be in Nigeria?). He was really nice and he sent me a picture. He was gorgeous. I later found this same picture online on a porn site. But he was smooth. He even called me on the phone every night. He was originally from London and had a hot accent. The emails got more intimate. After about a week he told me that I was the only one who understood him and he was falling in love. Unfortunately so was I.
Then the email arrived, that I knew deep down would someday arrive. It seemed he was stuck in Nigeria and needed money to get out. He actually asked me to wire him some money. How could I be so naive?
Being naive is one thing, but then the 3rd guy showed how stupid I am and I never learn lessons. Take time out now and read my blog from June 2009 - "Cyber Turns Real".
The 3rd guy sends me an email with his phone number. He had just recently came out and wanted to talk. OK, I remember coming out and how I really needed to talk to someone. So I called the guy up. He's an attorney in Boise. I asked when he had come out, and he said yesterday.
He tells me he is 62, that is out of my range, but I'm not an ageist. Some guys in their 60's work out and act young. There were several red flags, and I should have told him to find someone closer to him. He tells me he'd like to come to Seattle and take me to dinner.
OK that would probably be OK. One night listening to his stories and a free dinner. Then he asks can I stay at your place? If you read the above blog, you know that by now I should have learned and said, NO. But, I said Sure. But you can't fly Southwest, You have to fly Horizon if you are coming up here. My friends at work say I would do anything to sell a ticket. In fact I should be nominated for the North of Expected Award. How many people will hook up just to sell a ticket?
He gets here and he is old. I mean really old, not only physically but he is boring. The first day I have to go work and he goes out on his own. The final night he asks if I could teach him how to do a specific act. I tell him NO, it will come natural don't worry about it. You don't need lessons.
After I let one perfect stranger stay at my place, you would think I would have learned. But no. This is the definition of stupidity.
For some reason I thought for $200 I would get quality guys and a lot of dates. Instead I just got more disappointment. The "paid for guys" are the exactly the same as the "free guys". And that's not saying a lot. Back to the drawing board for me. Any suggestions? Has anyone else had these kind of experiences with paid online dating services?
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
I click on the ad, showing 2 very hot and seemingly happy guys. It took me directly to the registration page. I gave them some personal data and my credit card number. This will cost me $200, just about $200 more than Craigs List cost. In my feeble mind, I'm assuming that "you get what you pay for". I'm dreaming of great guys just waiting to date me, all for $200 for a 6 month trial period.
I spent the next two nights answering all their questions (it's called building my profile), and telling what I'm looking for in a guy. Answering these questions I realized that my standards are pretty low. Non-Smoker, Aged between 30 and 50, and live about 25 miles from my zip code. You would think that would be a lot of guys. In fact they promised that they would send me 5 suggested guys every day! Wow, they made this easy. I actually went into my calendar and blocked out the next several weekends for these match dot com dates.
The first night, I get my 5 suggested dates. I emailed each of them and told them I was interested. This happened for a week, and email to each guy every night. 7 days, 5 guys, 35 emails. Nothing.
Finally in week 2, I get an email from a non-recommended guy. He had read my profile and was interested. OK, that's cool. We sent a couple emails back and forth and then he gave me his phone number. I called him and the first words out of his mouth were:
"You will have to come up to Edmonds, because my car was re-possessed. You will have to pay, because I lost my job last month. It was my 4th job in 3 months!"
He is 47 years old and has moved back home with his parents. I politely told him that I didn't think it was a good match.
Just days later, the second guy was actually a recommended guy. He emailed me and we started a 2 or 3 a day email exchange. He had just moved to Seattle but he was out of town currently for work. Later he told me he was an antique dealer and was in Nigeria. (Why do they always have to be in Nigeria?). He was really nice and he sent me a picture. He was gorgeous. I later found this same picture online on a porn site. But he was smooth. He even called me on the phone every night. He was originally from London and had a hot accent. The emails got more intimate. After about a week he told me that I was the only one who understood him and he was falling in love. Unfortunately so was I.
Then the email arrived, that I knew deep down would someday arrive. It seemed he was stuck in Nigeria and needed money to get out. He actually asked me to wire him some money. How could I be so naive?
Being naive is one thing, but then the 3rd guy showed how stupid I am and I never learn lessons. Take time out now and read my blog from June 2009 - "Cyber Turns Real".
The 3rd guy sends me an email with his phone number. He had just recently came out and wanted to talk. OK, I remember coming out and how I really needed to talk to someone. So I called the guy up. He's an attorney in Boise. I asked when he had come out, and he said yesterday.
He tells me he is 62, that is out of my range, but I'm not an ageist. Some guys in their 60's work out and act young. There were several red flags, and I should have told him to find someone closer to him. He tells me he'd like to come to Seattle and take me to dinner.
OK that would probably be OK. One night listening to his stories and a free dinner. Then he asks can I stay at your place? If you read the above blog, you know that by now I should have learned and said, NO. But, I said Sure. But you can't fly Southwest, You have to fly Horizon if you are coming up here. My friends at work say I would do anything to sell a ticket. In fact I should be nominated for the North of Expected Award. How many people will hook up just to sell a ticket?
He gets here and he is old. I mean really old, not only physically but he is boring. The first day I have to go work and he goes out on his own. The final night he asks if I could teach him how to do a specific act. I tell him NO, it will come natural don't worry about it. You don't need lessons.
After I let one perfect stranger stay at my place, you would think I would have learned. But no. This is the definition of stupidity.
For some reason I thought for $200 I would get quality guys and a lot of dates. Instead I just got more disappointment. The "paid for guys" are the exactly the same as the "free guys". And that's not saying a lot. Back to the drawing board for me. Any suggestions? Has anyone else had these kind of experiences with paid online dating services?
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Bears and Dogs
As a kid we would often go camping. There were 6 of us and I'm surprised someone didn't kill someone in the family activity called camping. It seems we would always end up trying to pitch the tent in the dark. You would think that 6 people of at least average intelligence would have figured out that maybe we should wait and leave early the next morning so we wouldn't have to endure the 2 plus hours it took to get the tent up in the middle of the night.
The old tents were made of heavy canvas and the poles were huge aluminum rods. Then there were the 10 or 12 stakes that you had to nail into the ground to keep the tent from flying away. The tent was so heavy I doubt it would ever go anywhere. We always seemed to be missing a part. Then we'd fight and yell at each other about how the poles were supposed to be attached to the tent. It was an exhausting chore just getting the tent up. Camping was always traumatic, and I hated it.
This past week, my good friend Rick and his partner Dean invited me to attend one of their Boyz Weekend campouts. They invited about 45 guys to come to their beautiful lakeside retreat. I immediately got flashbacks to those awful camping experiences I had to endure as a kid. But I bit the bullet. I went to Target and bought a $39 tent and a $25 sleeping bag.
Tents now weigh about 12 ounces. The whole thing fits in a bag smaller than most womens purses. At first I thought I might have to buy the poles separately because I couldn't imagine how they could fit in such a small bag. But when I opened the bag, the poles were these little tiny rods about 9 inches long all folded up with a string inside attaching them all together.
When I got to the camp site, I opened everything up and acted hopeless and helpless. It's amazing how many guys will run to your rescue if you don't have a clue. Within minutes, yes minutes, my tent was up and ready for me to use.
We were camped on Rick's lawn on the shore of the lake. There were about 7 tents and a camper. The rest of the guys stayed inside Rick's house and also the neighbor's house. I'm thinking there were about 30 or so guys that actually showed up. Most of the guys I'd decribe as 'bears'.
In fact when I first got there one of these bears came up to me and asked if I was a pocket bear. I told him that I didn't know what that was. His friend said, no, he's too tall.
What?
It seems a pocket bear is a bear who is 5'6" or shorter. The guys talking to me were about 5'2". They asked how tall I was, I told them I thought I was about 5'7".
See that's too tall.
Let's measure him.
Measure what?
Your height.
So they measured and I am 5'7". So I don't get to be a pocketbear. Damn!
In addition to about 30 bears, there were at least a dozen dogs. About 4 big dogs that I call Labs, because I don't know any other brand of big dogs. About 5 little tiny dogs, from dauchunds, to poodles, and the rest were the plain label dogs. I'm not that fond of dogs, and they know it. Dogs are mans best friend, and if they know you don't like them they try extra hard to make you their friend. Which meant they were all over me. More than once I had to stop one of the little brand of dogs from peeing on my new tent.
Later that night sitting around the campfire, someone next to me says, I think our friend Raymond would be perfect for you. He works at a cruise line. OK, that would be perfect. It would be nice to have a boy friend who worked at a cruise line, or a hotel chain or a car rental place. With my flight benefits, we could have a lot of adventures.
"Don't you think Raymond would be a good match?" he asks.
No, it seems I'm about 30 to 50 lbs too skinny for Raymond. He likes the big boys.
It was a fun weekend, and I guess I'll try the camping thing again. And what a boost to my ego. I've never been told I was too tall or too thin. You gotta love the bears.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
The old tents were made of heavy canvas and the poles were huge aluminum rods. Then there were the 10 or 12 stakes that you had to nail into the ground to keep the tent from flying away. The tent was so heavy I doubt it would ever go anywhere. We always seemed to be missing a part. Then we'd fight and yell at each other about how the poles were supposed to be attached to the tent. It was an exhausting chore just getting the tent up. Camping was always traumatic, and I hated it.
This past week, my good friend Rick and his partner Dean invited me to attend one of their Boyz Weekend campouts. They invited about 45 guys to come to their beautiful lakeside retreat. I immediately got flashbacks to those awful camping experiences I had to endure as a kid. But I bit the bullet. I went to Target and bought a $39 tent and a $25 sleeping bag.
Tents now weigh about 12 ounces. The whole thing fits in a bag smaller than most womens purses. At first I thought I might have to buy the poles separately because I couldn't imagine how they could fit in such a small bag. But when I opened the bag, the poles were these little tiny rods about 9 inches long all folded up with a string inside attaching them all together.
When I got to the camp site, I opened everything up and acted hopeless and helpless. It's amazing how many guys will run to your rescue if you don't have a clue. Within minutes, yes minutes, my tent was up and ready for me to use.
We were camped on Rick's lawn on the shore of the lake. There were about 7 tents and a camper. The rest of the guys stayed inside Rick's house and also the neighbor's house. I'm thinking there were about 30 or so guys that actually showed up. Most of the guys I'd decribe as 'bears'.
In fact when I first got there one of these bears came up to me and asked if I was a pocket bear. I told him that I didn't know what that was. His friend said, no, he's too tall.
What?
It seems a pocket bear is a bear who is 5'6" or shorter. The guys talking to me were about 5'2". They asked how tall I was, I told them I thought I was about 5'7".
See that's too tall.
Let's measure him.
Measure what?
Your height.
So they measured and I am 5'7". So I don't get to be a pocketbear. Damn!
In addition to about 30 bears, there were at least a dozen dogs. About 4 big dogs that I call Labs, because I don't know any other brand of big dogs. About 5 little tiny dogs, from dauchunds, to poodles, and the rest were the plain label dogs. I'm not that fond of dogs, and they know it. Dogs are mans best friend, and if they know you don't like them they try extra hard to make you their friend. Which meant they were all over me. More than once I had to stop one of the little brand of dogs from peeing on my new tent.
Later that night sitting around the campfire, someone next to me says, I think our friend Raymond would be perfect for you. He works at a cruise line. OK, that would be perfect. It would be nice to have a boy friend who worked at a cruise line, or a hotel chain or a car rental place. With my flight benefits, we could have a lot of adventures.
"Don't you think Raymond would be a good match?" he asks.
No, it seems I'm about 30 to 50 lbs too skinny for Raymond. He likes the big boys.
It was a fun weekend, and I guess I'll try the camping thing again. And what a boost to my ego. I've never been told I was too tall or too thin. You gotta love the bears.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Monday, August 17, 2009
Comedy or Tragedy
'W' travels a lot for all his Board meetings. He also has family in San Francisco and on the east coast. When he was gone he text me every night and emailed me every day. But when he was in Seattle, we always went out to nice restaurants. Most of the time he paid, but sometimes I insisted. One Wednesday night I invited him to meet me at the Icon Grille.
Wednesday night is 1/2 price Washington wine night. Also the Icon honors the Passport card. I'm a Passport member. This means I buy one dinner, I get one free. So, while 'W' pays between $500 and $1000 for dinner, I paid about $60 including tip!
After a couple months of dating we met at Martins for late drinks. I thought everything was going really good. But he starts the evening out by saying, "We need to talk".
There has never been anything good happen after these words were spoken. He tells me that by now we should have deeper feelings for each other.
HUH?
After two months of dating we should be ready to make a committment, and I'm just not feeling that.
Wow!, I never saw this coming.
So now what? I ask.
What I'd really like to do, is to continue going to dinner and have sex. What do you think?
He then gets up to go to the bathroom, "think about it".
It was so weird - it seemed like the whole world stopped. It was like a bad movie. People stopped talking, everything was frozen in time. I looked around the room and no one was even breathing.
My mind was racing, what is going on? why is this happening? I thought everything was going perfect. I would never meet another guy like 'W' again. I probably would never find anyone to even date me again. I felt so alone. This was my station in life.
The world started revolving again when a waiter brought a birthday cake and lit candles to the table behind us. I turned around and saw the cutest Asian couple celebrating a birthday.
"Who's birthday is it?"
The guy said, it's her birthday.
Happy Birthday.
You two make such a cute couple.
Oh we aren't a couple - I'm gay and she's my friend.
Really!!! my name is Rick.
Hi, I'm 'S'
Here's my card, call me sometime.
'W' then came back. I had my answer.
Sure, your plan sounds great.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Wednesday night is 1/2 price Washington wine night. Also the Icon honors the Passport card. I'm a Passport member. This means I buy one dinner, I get one free. So, while 'W' pays between $500 and $1000 for dinner, I paid about $60 including tip!
After a couple months of dating we met at Martins for late drinks. I thought everything was going really good. But he starts the evening out by saying, "We need to talk".
There has never been anything good happen after these words were spoken. He tells me that by now we should have deeper feelings for each other.
HUH?
After two months of dating we should be ready to make a committment, and I'm just not feeling that.
Wow!, I never saw this coming.
So now what? I ask.
What I'd really like to do, is to continue going to dinner and have sex. What do you think?
He then gets up to go to the bathroom, "think about it".
It was so weird - it seemed like the whole world stopped. It was like a bad movie. People stopped talking, everything was frozen in time. I looked around the room and no one was even breathing.
My mind was racing, what is going on? why is this happening? I thought everything was going perfect. I would never meet another guy like 'W' again. I probably would never find anyone to even date me again. I felt so alone. This was my station in life.
The world started revolving again when a waiter brought a birthday cake and lit candles to the table behind us. I turned around and saw the cutest Asian couple celebrating a birthday.
"Who's birthday is it?"
The guy said, it's her birthday.
Happy Birthday.
You two make such a cute couple.
Oh we aren't a couple - I'm gay and she's my friend.
Really!!! my name is Rick.
Hi, I'm 'S'
Here's my card, call me sometime.
'W' then came back. I had my answer.
Sure, your plan sounds great.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Finally Mr. Right?
'W' has always been a special guy. Everyone he meets just loves him. I first noticed him at Martin's. He is older but very good looking and keeps himself in shape. He's one of the "popular boys" at Martin's.
Martin's is one of those classic piano bars. At one end of the bar is a grand piano and a microphone where some brave souls get up and sing. It's not karoke, you have to provide the piano player with music and you have to know the words. In the middle of the room are 3 conversation pit areas with low back red leather chairs and a cocktail table in the middle. Around the edges of the bar are real tables for those wishing to eat.
Martin's is frequented by many regulars. I'm not sure I'd be called a regular. I usually go every Friday night for one drink before I call it an evening. The regulars all know each other and each other's business. They talk about the other regulars that aren't there. Another reason to show up. They share their life and their stories with anyone that is willing to listen.
'W' is one of the regulars, but he travels a lot, so there is a lot of conversation about 'W'. I've heard many conversations about 'W'.
A few months ago on a Friday night, my friend Josh joined me at Martin's. Josh is in his mid twenties and very cute. When we go out, I'm usually his wing man. This night we are sitting in the middle of the room and 'W' approaches us. He asks if he can join us. We both shake our heads yes. I figure, I'll finish my drink, then get up and move or leave so I can leave 'W' and Josh alone.
But 'W' is smooth and engages us both in conversation. Then I notice that he starts talking exclusively to me. Before you notice it's closing time. The three of us ask for our checks. 'W' gets his first, gives them his card, signs the bill and walks out. Josh then got his. After a few minutes I ask again, could I please get my bill. The waiter says, 'W' paid for you. You are very lucky, he likes you.
I run out after him to thank him. He answered, you can thank me by having dinner with me next week. We exchange numbers. About an hour later as I'm laying in bed almost asleep, he calls me to make sure I got home OK. Now this is hot!
That week, I googled his name, and it seems that most of the rumors were true. He's very well known in the telecommunications field. He serves on the Board of Directors of several companies that most of us would recognize. I felt kind of weird finding all this stuff about him. Like envasion of privacy.
We had agreed to meet at the Capital Grille downtown, his favorite restaurant. Walking in, I knew I was way out of my league. Nevertheless, I had vowed to offer to pay for dinner. I didn't want him thinking that I was like everyone else and only going out with him, for the money.
We get seated immediately even though there is a lot of folks waiting in the lobby. They call him by his first name. He orders us a bottle of wine. He excuses himself and goes to the bathroom. I look at the wine menu and notice that already our bill is $200! OK, there goes my planned trip to Mexico.
He comes back and the waiter asks him if he wants his regular. 'W' asks me if I like steak. I of course say yes. Medium Rare? Yes, of course.
OK, we will have 2 of my regulars.
We have a great dinner and conversation. I really like this guy. We are there about 3 hours, when he asks for the check. I glance at it and it's over $500. OK, there goes my mortgage payment. I pulled out my card and I offer it to 'W'. My hand is shaking and my knuckles are white from the tight grip on the card.
No! I asked you out, I pay. I loosen the grip a little. Let's split it. NO! That was a huge relief.
We then walked to his downtown condo. He lived on the 22nd floor. He had purchased 2 condos and had the place gutted and then rebuilt it to his taste. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. He had a 360 degree view of the whole city, sound, and mountains. AMAZING.
He opened another bottle of wine and we talked some more. I told him I had googled him. I also told him I felt guilty about it. Why do you feel guilty?
Well, it's kind of like going through someone's underwear drawer.
He laughed and said it was fine. He had nothing to hide. He asked if he googled me, what would he find.
If you google me, you have to click Next about 350 times to find me. There was a famous baseball pitcher with my name and for some reason, Mr. Google thinks his stats and stories are more important than my 'linkedin' or my book review I wrote for my friend's book, 'Nightmare on Gay Street'.
The whole night was like a fairy tale. I actually thought I may have finally found Mr. Right.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT.
Martin's is one of those classic piano bars. At one end of the bar is a grand piano and a microphone where some brave souls get up and sing. It's not karoke, you have to provide the piano player with music and you have to know the words. In the middle of the room are 3 conversation pit areas with low back red leather chairs and a cocktail table in the middle. Around the edges of the bar are real tables for those wishing to eat.
Martin's is frequented by many regulars. I'm not sure I'd be called a regular. I usually go every Friday night for one drink before I call it an evening. The regulars all know each other and each other's business. They talk about the other regulars that aren't there. Another reason to show up. They share their life and their stories with anyone that is willing to listen.
'W' is one of the regulars, but he travels a lot, so there is a lot of conversation about 'W'. I've heard many conversations about 'W'.
A few months ago on a Friday night, my friend Josh joined me at Martin's. Josh is in his mid twenties and very cute. When we go out, I'm usually his wing man. This night we are sitting in the middle of the room and 'W' approaches us. He asks if he can join us. We both shake our heads yes. I figure, I'll finish my drink, then get up and move or leave so I can leave 'W' and Josh alone.
But 'W' is smooth and engages us both in conversation. Then I notice that he starts talking exclusively to me. Before you notice it's closing time. The three of us ask for our checks. 'W' gets his first, gives them his card, signs the bill and walks out. Josh then got his. After a few minutes I ask again, could I please get my bill. The waiter says, 'W' paid for you. You are very lucky, he likes you.
I run out after him to thank him. He answered, you can thank me by having dinner with me next week. We exchange numbers. About an hour later as I'm laying in bed almost asleep, he calls me to make sure I got home OK. Now this is hot!
That week, I googled his name, and it seems that most of the rumors were true. He's very well known in the telecommunications field. He serves on the Board of Directors of several companies that most of us would recognize. I felt kind of weird finding all this stuff about him. Like envasion of privacy.
We had agreed to meet at the Capital Grille downtown, his favorite restaurant. Walking in, I knew I was way out of my league. Nevertheless, I had vowed to offer to pay for dinner. I didn't want him thinking that I was like everyone else and only going out with him, for the money.
We get seated immediately even though there is a lot of folks waiting in the lobby. They call him by his first name. He orders us a bottle of wine. He excuses himself and goes to the bathroom. I look at the wine menu and notice that already our bill is $200! OK, there goes my planned trip to Mexico.
He comes back and the waiter asks him if he wants his regular. 'W' asks me if I like steak. I of course say yes. Medium Rare? Yes, of course.
OK, we will have 2 of my regulars.
We have a great dinner and conversation. I really like this guy. We are there about 3 hours, when he asks for the check. I glance at it and it's over $500. OK, there goes my mortgage payment. I pulled out my card and I offer it to 'W'. My hand is shaking and my knuckles are white from the tight grip on the card.
No! I asked you out, I pay. I loosen the grip a little. Let's split it. NO! That was a huge relief.
We then walked to his downtown condo. He lived on the 22nd floor. He had purchased 2 condos and had the place gutted and then rebuilt it to his taste. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. He had a 360 degree view of the whole city, sound, and mountains. AMAZING.
He opened another bottle of wine and we talked some more. I told him I had googled him. I also told him I felt guilty about it. Why do you feel guilty?
Well, it's kind of like going through someone's underwear drawer.
He laughed and said it was fine. He had nothing to hide. He asked if he googled me, what would he find.
If you google me, you have to click Next about 350 times to find me. There was a famous baseball pitcher with my name and for some reason, Mr. Google thinks his stats and stories are more important than my 'linkedin' or my book review I wrote for my friend's book, 'Nightmare on Gay Street'.
The whole night was like a fairy tale. I actually thought I may have finally found Mr. Right.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
How the Count Ends
The Count called me up and he was very upset. He said we needed to talk. We set up a date and agreed to meet at the Broadway Grille. This meant that he was paying. He had an account at the Grille. His grandmother paid the bill every month. She didn't want him to go hungry. She also paid his rent every month.
The Count worked as an Event Planner and a tour guide. He was not dependent on this money. These were more of a hobby. His grandmother made sure that all his "real" bills were covered. She gave him a debit card to cover his regular charges.
I walk into Broadway Grille and he is already there. I find him crying at his regular table. I figure this must be really serious, like death or something. He is a drama queen, but I've never seen him cry before. He immediately starts talking. When he talks I always feel like I just entered the theatre in the middle of the second act. I have to ask questions to get "caught up".
Thru the blubber and tears, I conclude that his father and Grandmother are threatening to take away his debit card. They want to put him on an allowance. His voice raises and he asks me,
"Can you believe that they want to put a 42 year old man on an allowance?"
I ask why they want to take his card away.
"I put over $10,000 on the card last month".
What in the world could you have spent 10k in one month?
I went on the cruise.
Does that include the price of the cruise?
No, my grandmother actually paid for the cruise. The 10 thousand was extra stuff.
Then he asked me a question: "Don't you think I have a right to be upset?"
Do you want me to be honest? OR do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?
He said, Always be honest.
You are a selfish brat. By the time someone is in their 40's they usually have to have a real job to pay their rent and their food. Most of us do not have a grandmother that will pay for all our expenses. You should be appreciative for everything you are getting.
He then tells me that I need to leave now. I agree and walk out.
And that ends the saga of the Count. Honestly I will probably never ever meet another Count in my life. It was an interesting experience. And I am glad that I have that experience.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT.
The Count worked as an Event Planner and a tour guide. He was not dependent on this money. These were more of a hobby. His grandmother made sure that all his "real" bills were covered. She gave him a debit card to cover his regular charges.
I walk into Broadway Grille and he is already there. I find him crying at his regular table. I figure this must be really serious, like death or something. He is a drama queen, but I've never seen him cry before. He immediately starts talking. When he talks I always feel like I just entered the theatre in the middle of the second act. I have to ask questions to get "caught up".
Thru the blubber and tears, I conclude that his father and Grandmother are threatening to take away his debit card. They want to put him on an allowance. His voice raises and he asks me,
"Can you believe that they want to put a 42 year old man on an allowance?"
I ask why they want to take his card away.
"I put over $10,000 on the card last month".
What in the world could you have spent 10k in one month?
I went on the cruise.
Does that include the price of the cruise?
No, my grandmother actually paid for the cruise. The 10 thousand was extra stuff.
Then he asked me a question: "Don't you think I have a right to be upset?"
Do you want me to be honest? OR do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?
He said, Always be honest.
You are a selfish brat. By the time someone is in their 40's they usually have to have a real job to pay their rent and their food. Most of us do not have a grandmother that will pay for all our expenses. You should be appreciative for everything you are getting.
He then tells me that I need to leave now. I agree and walk out.
And that ends the saga of the Count. Honestly I will probably never ever meet another Count in my life. It was an interesting experience. And I am glad that I have that experience.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Cyber Turns Real
I was riding home in the carpool, when the phone rang. "Hi Rick, this is 'D'. Oh yea how's it goin? I had just met 'D' last night online in the Phone Chat Room. We talked for quite a while but never had what I imagined was phone sex. I was hoping he didn't want to have phone sex right then while I was in the carpool. They know how weird I am, but that might have been too much even for them.
Guess what? asks 'D'. After we talked last night, I went online and bought tickets to Seattle. I'll be there next Wednesday night. I get to stay with you until the next Monday!
Wow! Really? I'm kind of stunned. He seemed like a regular guy when we talked but remember my stalker? What if that wasn't him in the picture he had on his profile? What am I going to do with this guy for 5 days? There are many things I should have said, but what I actually said was "Cool, what time do you arrive? I will pick you up at the airport."
Wednesday night I drive to the airport and pick him up. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the picture online was of him and it was recent. We stopped and had something to eat. He still seemed very nice. I had to work the next day, so I left him sleeping. All day I was suspicious. What if he steals my stuff? What if he's a meth head? what if he has guys over while I'm gone. When I get home, everything is fine, he even has dinner waiting for me. This is a nice touch. The way to my heart is to make the bed and cook me dinner. That night we stayed in and watched a movie. He had to use my laptop to check his email. I caught him looking at my private pictures. I really don't have anything to hide, but it seemed weird that he was poking around my files.
I had taken the next day off so we took the ferry to Tillicum Village. The next couple days we did the touristy things that you never do unless someone from out of town is in to visit. Have you ever done the duck? After a couple days of site seeing, I was exhausted and tired of being the "perfect" host.
On Sunday 'D' wanted to go to Nordstrom (they don't have them in Omaha). We walked through the shoe department and a pair of New Balance's start calling my name, "rick, rick buy me". I ran over to them and I just knew that it was a relationship made in heaven.
'D' asked me if I liked them. I LOVE THEM. He calls over a sales clerk and asks if they have that shoe in size 10. Size 10? I don't wear size 10! 'D' tells me that he wears size 10, and he's going to buy them too. No you are not. Either you buy them or I buy them, we are not buying the same shoe! That's just weird. He shrugged, bought his shoes and we left the store in silence.
Looking back, I'm not so sure why I got so upset. Maybe everything just piled up for me. His looking at my PC, the constant hosting, and then him buying my shoes.
The next morning I drop him off at the airport. We hugged our goodbyes and he was gone! I felt a huge relief as I drove away. Maybe I wasn't really ready for a full time boy friend or companion yet. The lesson I learned is that if I don't know someone, I'm not letting them stay over at my place for over one night.
After work I went to Nordstrom and bought a really cool pair of New Balance shoes, that had been calling my name.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Guess what? asks 'D'. After we talked last night, I went online and bought tickets to Seattle. I'll be there next Wednesday night. I get to stay with you until the next Monday!
Wow! Really? I'm kind of stunned. He seemed like a regular guy when we talked but remember my stalker? What if that wasn't him in the picture he had on his profile? What am I going to do with this guy for 5 days? There are many things I should have said, but what I actually said was "Cool, what time do you arrive? I will pick you up at the airport."
Wednesday night I drive to the airport and pick him up. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the picture online was of him and it was recent. We stopped and had something to eat. He still seemed very nice. I had to work the next day, so I left him sleeping. All day I was suspicious. What if he steals my stuff? What if he's a meth head? what if he has guys over while I'm gone. When I get home, everything is fine, he even has dinner waiting for me. This is a nice touch. The way to my heart is to make the bed and cook me dinner. That night we stayed in and watched a movie. He had to use my laptop to check his email. I caught him looking at my private pictures. I really don't have anything to hide, but it seemed weird that he was poking around my files.
I had taken the next day off so we took the ferry to Tillicum Village. The next couple days we did the touristy things that you never do unless someone from out of town is in to visit. Have you ever done the duck? After a couple days of site seeing, I was exhausted and tired of being the "perfect" host.
On Sunday 'D' wanted to go to Nordstrom (they don't have them in Omaha). We walked through the shoe department and a pair of New Balance's start calling my name, "rick, rick buy me". I ran over to them and I just knew that it was a relationship made in heaven.
'D' asked me if I liked them. I LOVE THEM. He calls over a sales clerk and asks if they have that shoe in size 10. Size 10? I don't wear size 10! 'D' tells me that he wears size 10, and he's going to buy them too. No you are not. Either you buy them or I buy them, we are not buying the same shoe! That's just weird. He shrugged, bought his shoes and we left the store in silence.
Looking back, I'm not so sure why I got so upset. Maybe everything just piled up for me. His looking at my PC, the constant hosting, and then him buying my shoes.
The next morning I drop him off at the airport. We hugged our goodbyes and he was gone! I felt a huge relief as I drove away. Maybe I wasn't really ready for a full time boy friend or companion yet. The lesson I learned is that if I don't know someone, I'm not letting them stay over at my place for over one night.
After work I went to Nordstrom and bought a really cool pair of New Balance shoes, that had been calling my name.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Phone Sex
Sitting home on a cold rainy night can be lonely. Especially if you had just broke up with the guy that you thought was Mr. Perfect. And also especially if you are the one that got dumped. This particular night I stare at the laptop and I promise myself that I'm not going online. Well, OK - maybe just for a few minutes. (Famous Last Words).
Online there's a list of chat rooms with the count of people in that particular room. I scroll down to see if there's anything interesting. I stop at:
PHONE - 547
That's a lot of lonely online surfers.
Phone Sex huh? I wonder exactly how that works?
OK I'm not that innocent. I know you talk dirty to each other. I do know some good words and I have an over active imagination. I've watched some gay porn, so I do have an idea of what's supposed to happen.
I enter the room and almost immediately I get a request for a private chat. He says he likes my picture and profile.
Huh? I go back and look at my profile to see what's so captivating. It was pretty basic stuff:
Age minus 10
Height plus 2
Weight minus 10
And a very simple pic of me drinking beer in Puerto Vallarta, and yes I was fully clothed.
I went back to the chat room and he was still there waiting for a response from me.
How's it Going?
Fine and you? My name is (let's call him 'D')
I'm Rick.
Can I call you?
Hmm, I'm thinking that was fast. I took a deep breath and and responded
Wait a minute, then you can call.
I remembered the porn movies. They always had that hard beat disco-ish music playing in the background. I turned on my TV and searched the cable music channels. I was a little disappointed that they didn't have a channel called Porn Music. This meant that I had to sample a few channels to find a suitable replacement. I ended up on channel 916 called Electronica. I pay about $100 a month for cable and this was the first time I ventured past channel 13.
With the music blaring the mood was set. For a minute I thought about lighting candles, then thought that was just weird.
OK, I'm back, you can call now.
I give him my number and the phone rings immediately.
Hi, Rick
Hi, 'D'
Where do you live?
Seattle, and you?
Omaha.
I used to live in Omaha, so for the next 30 minutes we talk about how much the city has changed since I lived there. He asked about Seattle and I told him how nice it was with the mountains and the water and it was so gay friendly. He told me he had always wanted to visit Seattle. I told him he really does need to come out. After about a half hour he tells me his phone is dying and asks if he can call me again tomorrow.
My first experience with phone wasn't that bad, no sex involved whatsoever. And 'D' did seem to be a nice guy. I guess we should be brave sometimes and try things we wouldn't normally do. I also learned that I probably won't be going past channel 13 again in the near future.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Online there's a list of chat rooms with the count of people in that particular room. I scroll down to see if there's anything interesting. I stop at:
PHONE - 547
That's a lot of lonely online surfers.
Phone Sex huh? I wonder exactly how that works?
OK I'm not that innocent. I know you talk dirty to each other. I do know some good words and I have an over active imagination. I've watched some gay porn, so I do have an idea of what's supposed to happen.
I enter the room and almost immediately I get a request for a private chat. He says he likes my picture and profile.
Huh? I go back and look at my profile to see what's so captivating. It was pretty basic stuff:
Age minus 10
Height plus 2
Weight minus 10
And a very simple pic of me drinking beer in Puerto Vallarta, and yes I was fully clothed.
I went back to the chat room and he was still there waiting for a response from me.
How's it Going?
Fine and you? My name is (let's call him 'D')
I'm Rick.
Can I call you?
Hmm, I'm thinking that was fast. I took a deep breath and and responded
Wait a minute, then you can call.
I remembered the porn movies. They always had that hard beat disco-ish music playing in the background. I turned on my TV and searched the cable music channels. I was a little disappointed that they didn't have a channel called Porn Music. This meant that I had to sample a few channels to find a suitable replacement. I ended up on channel 916 called Electronica. I pay about $100 a month for cable and this was the first time I ventured past channel 13.
With the music blaring the mood was set. For a minute I thought about lighting candles, then thought that was just weird.
OK, I'm back, you can call now.
I give him my number and the phone rings immediately.
Hi, Rick
Hi, 'D'
Where do you live?
Seattle, and you?
Omaha.
I used to live in Omaha, so for the next 30 minutes we talk about how much the city has changed since I lived there. He asked about Seattle and I told him how nice it was with the mountains and the water and it was so gay friendly. He told me he had always wanted to visit Seattle. I told him he really does need to come out. After about a half hour he tells me his phone is dying and asks if he can call me again tomorrow.
My first experience with phone wasn't that bad, no sex involved whatsoever. And 'D' did seem to be a nice guy. I guess we should be brave sometimes and try things we wouldn't normally do. I also learned that I probably won't be going past channel 13 again in the near future.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Buy a Boy Friend
There seem to be 4 different phases of gay relationships. I'm not counting friendship as a phase. Friends can create their own drama and problems. The phases are:
1. Hooking up - these are usually a one time just for sex relationship. (Can you call it a relationship if it only lasts a night?). Even though I know a few guys who have met via a hookup and then become boy friends, most of the time hookups are simply just sex. If I ever know the name of a hookup, I soon forget, or I write a blog about them.
2. Dating - Hopefully you remember the names of guys you are dating. So far I've been able to do that. Dating is very interesting - you are not exclusive but sometimes one of you assume that you will spend at least one of the weekend nights together. This is why it's hard to date more than one guy at a time. But it does seem perfectly acceptable to date more than one guy at a time. It depends on the couple to determine when you cross the line from dating to be being boy friends. One of my dates actually had a rule. You have a conversation after 3 months of dating. I'm not sure if you don't have a talk, if you simply wake up one day and you are boy friends? So far in my limited experiences, this is the most fun phase. Getting to go out with a cute boy or boys, and very little drama. We still tend to be on our best behavior.
3. Boy Friend - This phase usually begins with high hopes. Usually most boy friends are exclusive. You also assume that you will spend most weekends together. After dating you know enough of the baggage to either have accepted it or moved on. You still don't live together but you spend most nights together. Again personally I'm not sure how you exactly get to the point of moving from dating to boy friend. Also I'm not sure what the formality is of moving from boy friend to partner. Michael my ex, said we would have a talk after being together for a year about moving in together. Deep down I was always afraid of that discussion. Where does the relationship go after the talk and the answer is NO? You can't go back to dating? This usually is the end of the entire relationship. If the answer is No, boy friends usually go their own ways, either hating each other or becoming good friends. Michael and I never made it to the "moving in" conversation - we broke up a few months before the year. But I'm happy to say that we are good friends.
4. Partners - everyone says this is what they are looking for. Generally this means that you live together. Maybe you have registered as a domestic partner and/or have a committment ceremony. I know several couples in this category. For about half of them it means "opening up" the relationship. I don't know if I could handle that myself. But I'm certainly not going to judge them.
There are some people stuck in one phase and they have no desire to move on. They are perfect happy just hooking up. There are others that are serial daters, not wanting a boy friend. I'm still so new to everything I'm not sure what I want. Sitting here typing my blog, I really think that I would like at least a boy friend. I do know that I'm tired of hooking up.
No moral to the blog, just some observations. So what do you think? Did I miss something? Did I incorrectly describe these?
In the meantime there's one category that I didn't even describe.
1. Hooking up - these are usually a one time just for sex relationship. (Can you call it a relationship if it only lasts a night?). Even though I know a few guys who have met via a hookup and then become boy friends, most of the time hookups are simply just sex. If I ever know the name of a hookup, I soon forget, or I write a blog about them.
2. Dating - Hopefully you remember the names of guys you are dating. So far I've been able to do that. Dating is very interesting - you are not exclusive but sometimes one of you assume that you will spend at least one of the weekend nights together. This is why it's hard to date more than one guy at a time. But it does seem perfectly acceptable to date more than one guy at a time. It depends on the couple to determine when you cross the line from dating to be being boy friends. One of my dates actually had a rule. You have a conversation after 3 months of dating. I'm not sure if you don't have a talk, if you simply wake up one day and you are boy friends? So far in my limited experiences, this is the most fun phase. Getting to go out with a cute boy or boys, and very little drama. We still tend to be on our best behavior.
3. Boy Friend - This phase usually begins with high hopes. Usually most boy friends are exclusive. You also assume that you will spend most weekends together. After dating you know enough of the baggage to either have accepted it or moved on. You still don't live together but you spend most nights together. Again personally I'm not sure how you exactly get to the point of moving from dating to boy friend. Also I'm not sure what the formality is of moving from boy friend to partner. Michael my ex, said we would have a talk after being together for a year about moving in together. Deep down I was always afraid of that discussion. Where does the relationship go after the talk and the answer is NO? You can't go back to dating? This usually is the end of the entire relationship. If the answer is No, boy friends usually go their own ways, either hating each other or becoming good friends. Michael and I never made it to the "moving in" conversation - we broke up a few months before the year. But I'm happy to say that we are good friends.
4. Partners - everyone says this is what they are looking for. Generally this means that you live together. Maybe you have registered as a domestic partner and/or have a committment ceremony. I know several couples in this category. For about half of them it means "opening up" the relationship. I don't know if I could handle that myself. But I'm certainly not going to judge them.
There are some people stuck in one phase and they have no desire to move on. They are perfect happy just hooking up. There are others that are serial daters, not wanting a boy friend. I'm still so new to everything I'm not sure what I want. Sitting here typing my blog, I really think that I would like at least a boy friend. I do know that I'm tired of hooking up.
No moral to the blog, just some observations. So what do you think? Did I miss something? Did I incorrectly describe these?
In the meantime there's one category that I didn't even describe.
Synergy Events presents - BACHELOR AUCTION09
No cover!
Wednesday, April 8
Doors open at 8 PM
Julia’s Restaurant
300 Broadway East
Seattle, WA
(206) 334-0513
Join our host, performer Mark “Mom” Finley, at Julia’s Restaurant as we raisefunds to benefit Lifelong AIDS Alliance.
Kick off your night when doors open at 8 PM with our welcome mixer featuring specialty cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Mix and mingle while celebrated guest DJ Kyler from C89..5 FM spins your favorite tracks.
We’re auctioning off 10 of Seattle’s hottest bachelors combined with complimentary date packages from your favorite local haunts. Take in the show and bid as our bachelors take the stage and give us their best. Underwear provided by Red Drawers. (HOT)
Enjoy our intermission show with a surprise performance by Julia’s own Sean Paul and premium door prizes from our supporting sponsors.
For every $25 in food or beverage purchased, receive a complimentary ticket to Julia’s Le Faux female impersonation show!
Visit the Red Drawers underwear sales display with their best selling inventory available. 10% of sales at the benefit will be donated to Lifelong!
General donation suggested at door. All proceeds go to Lifelong AIDS Alliance.. Event 21+
Come join the party and enjoy the show to support Lifelong!
For questions or to volunteer at the benefit, please contact Synergy Events at gqjustin@yahoo.com .
Not sure where in my phases does "buy a boy" fit in. But come on out and have fun.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Long Gone Friends
It was New Years Eve and I had about 20 people over to my place for a party and watch the fireworks from my roof top. As with all my parties, there was a curfew. Everyone was expected to leave around 12:30am. The fireworks are over by 12:15 so that gave everyone 15 minutes to say their goodbyes and move on to the next party.
At midnight when the fireworks were going off, I felt totally alone. Even though I was surrounded by loved ones, it was a very lonely feeling. Another year older and still alone. Most everyone was coupled off. I had a lot of emotions and some did see me cry. I felt embarrassed and did not want to ruin anyone's fun.
Just when I recovered from this lonely feeling and I was actually starting to feel pretty good about myself, Valentine's Day rears it's ugly head, and POW knocks me down again. Who's in charge of this ego busting schedule?
Besides these internal feelings, I also recently lost four friends. After faithfully being very dependable for years, my truck stopped working right on I5. I was coming home from a bike ride and my bicycle was in the back. I tried to merge onto I5, but the transmission failed to "jump" into 3rd gear.(See my blog "It Sucks To Be Me") Then it wouldn't go at all. Luckily I was going fast enough so I could pull over to the right shoulder. I called AAA and they sent a tow truck. The guy hooked up my car and actually dropped my truck off at the fix it shop right next to my place. And I got to ride up front with him. It's kind of hot sitting next to a hunky tow truck guy wearing my biking spandex!
The fix it guy looked it over and declared that the truck was on life support. He has been trying to find a transmission for almost a year. He found one but it would cost more than the truck was worth. So I made the painful decision to remove it from life support.
Then yesterday I was down in my garage (secure parking) and I noticed that my bicycle that had been chained to a railing was missing. I searched the garage and it was gone. Someone had stolen my bicycle. It's a Black 2006 Cannondale Bad Boy. It was the best bicycle ever!! Friends have moved up and bought some sort of a carbon bike that is cool, but it's not my Bad Boy. It's not enough that I'm feeling depressed about V Day, but then someone has to steal a bike from someone who doesn't even own a car!
The other two friends that I lost are not dead or missing and I don't want anything bad to happen to them. One has been a "friend" for about 5 years.We've had our ups and downs through the years. But this time it was different. The more I think about it the more I think he was my friend, but I don't think I was his friend. The other is a more recent relationship. I don't have a lot invested in him, but it still hurts whenever you loose someone who you really like. Was this loss my fault? Probably.
Will I miss my 4 friends? Maybe. I already miss my truck and bicycle!
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
At midnight when the fireworks were going off, I felt totally alone. Even though I was surrounded by loved ones, it was a very lonely feeling. Another year older and still alone. Most everyone was coupled off. I had a lot of emotions and some did see me cry. I felt embarrassed and did not want to ruin anyone's fun.
Just when I recovered from this lonely feeling and I was actually starting to feel pretty good about myself, Valentine's Day rears it's ugly head, and POW knocks me down again. Who's in charge of this ego busting schedule?
Besides these internal feelings, I also recently lost four friends. After faithfully being very dependable for years, my truck stopped working right on I5. I was coming home from a bike ride and my bicycle was in the back. I tried to merge onto I5, but the transmission failed to "jump" into 3rd gear.(See my blog "It Sucks To Be Me") Then it wouldn't go at all. Luckily I was going fast enough so I could pull over to the right shoulder. I called AAA and they sent a tow truck. The guy hooked up my car and actually dropped my truck off at the fix it shop right next to my place. And I got to ride up front with him. It's kind of hot sitting next to a hunky tow truck guy wearing my biking spandex!
The fix it guy looked it over and declared that the truck was on life support. He has been trying to find a transmission for almost a year. He found one but it would cost more than the truck was worth. So I made the painful decision to remove it from life support.
Then yesterday I was down in my garage (secure parking) and I noticed that my bicycle that had been chained to a railing was missing. I searched the garage and it was gone. Someone had stolen my bicycle. It's a Black 2006 Cannondale Bad Boy. It was the best bicycle ever!! Friends have moved up and bought some sort of a carbon bike that is cool, but it's not my Bad Boy. It's not enough that I'm feeling depressed about V Day, but then someone has to steal a bike from someone who doesn't even own a car!
The other two friends that I lost are not dead or missing and I don't want anything bad to happen to them. One has been a "friend" for about 5 years.We've had our ups and downs through the years. But this time it was different. The more I think about it the more I think he was my friend, but I don't think I was his friend. The other is a more recent relationship. I don't have a lot invested in him, but it still hurts whenever you loose someone who you really like. Was this loss my fault? Probably.
Will I miss my 4 friends? Maybe. I already miss my truck and bicycle!
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Keep the Toaster?
The Count and I were at the new Elite just before Christmas having a hot chocolate. It's called the new Elite because there used to be an old Elite. Of course it wasn't called the old Elite because no one knew that there would be something new to take it's place. It was simply known as the Elite. The old one was dark, narrow and quite scairy. The new one is actually pretty nice. It has 4 separate sections. The first is the main bar, then you walk into a big pool table room. Off the pool playing room (I wonder if pool playing rooms have a unique name?) is a little lounge with a sofa and a couple chairs. Upstairs is the dart playing room.
The Count and I were in the lounge enjoying our hot drink, when a guy comes in and joins us. He tells us his name is Bill. He is really excited. He's a deacon or something at a Lutheran church downtown. They just sold the parking lot next to them and they have a lot of money. He just won approval by the board of deacons to spend the money and build a new church with low income housing on top. He was so excited.
I was impressed with him. It's kind of sexy to meet someone who has an enthusiasm for anything anymore. He asked us if we knew any architects because it was going out to bid the next month. I actually do know 2 architects so he gave me his card. I sent Bill an email later that week telling him that they would be in contact .
Bill then responded back and asked if I wanted to meet for a drink that night. I said sure. So we met. The more he drank the more obnoxious he got. OK, not obnoxious but I don't know an appropriate word. I lived with an alcoholic for many years and there has to be a word for the way they get. He kept telling me that he was a nice guy.
Later that week he asked if I wanted to go to dinner, so we went to dinner by my place. It was a nice meal, and of course he drank a lot. He told me that he had a drinking problem and he hoped that it wouldn't get in the way of our relationship. I told him we really didn't have a relationship yet, and if we did I couldn't promise that it wouldn't get in the way. I described some of the behaviors that really bothered me. I told him if he really was a nice guy, he wouldn't have to tell everyone. He politely listened.
He stayed over that night. The next morning he wanted breakfast. Sorry I don't have anything in the house to cook for breakfast.
That's OK, just toast and coffee.
Sorry I don't have a toaster. So we went out.
A week later he called me at work and asked if I wanted to go see the new movie Frost/Nixon that night.
Sure OK.
Let's meet at Ruth Cris first for Happy Hour then go to the movie.
The movie started at 7. Happy Hour begins at 4. Because of the bad weather and having to take a bus home, I left work at 4. At 6 I get to Ruth Cris where he has been getting happy since 4. He ordered himself another one and I ordered a water. I didn't want to fall asleep in the movie. I hear it's boring enough without the influence of alcohol.
He then told me the PLAN. I would move into his penthouse, and he would hire a decorator to "fix" up my condo so I could rent it.
"Whoa Dude!" the second time in a month that I've used that expression. "What's wrong with my place?" Walking home later I realized I should have been more shocked that he had moved me into his penthouse. But the condo is a personal attack against my decorating taste.
"Nothings wrong", he says, it just could use some help.
He then fell off his barstool and the waiter came over and told me he couldn't drink anymore. OK, no movie. The check came and Bill was in no condition to even get his wallet out. So I paid the $100 Happy Hour check. I had to walk him back to his place. Once there he gave me a Christmas present. I had no idea we were exchanging presents. I opened it and simply stared at it. A stainless steel toaster! A very fancy and nice one. I knew I had to have the "talk" with him. I also knew I couldn't talk to him then because he was drunk and maybe, just maybe it was the alcohol talking and he really didn't want me to move in.
But then he got out a list of decorators he had put together and told me to investigate each and pick one out! So he had planned this while sober. And he had a listing of jobs available downtown because he didn't want me working way out by the airport. I said I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow.
Don't forget your toaster.
I met him the next day for lunch and told him that his drinking is causing a problem. I wanted to date for a while and see if I could get over this. But he accelerated everything too fast. After a couple dates he had me moving in with him, renting my condo out, and getting a new job.
There's a joke on the streets, (and excuse me if I offend anyone), Lesbians go out on their first dates in a UHAUL. That's how I felt. I told him he was forcing me to make a decision and the decision was I didn't want to go out anymore. He cried, and said he understood. He then got up and walked out.
I felt bad that he cried, but I felt empowered that I am finally taking control of my own life. I got back home and starred at the toaster. Should I give it back? A moral dilema: I still haven't made any toast, just in case.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
The Count and I were in the lounge enjoying our hot drink, when a guy comes in and joins us. He tells us his name is Bill. He is really excited. He's a deacon or something at a Lutheran church downtown. They just sold the parking lot next to them and they have a lot of money. He just won approval by the board of deacons to spend the money and build a new church with low income housing on top. He was so excited.
I was impressed with him. It's kind of sexy to meet someone who has an enthusiasm for anything anymore. He asked us if we knew any architects because it was going out to bid the next month. I actually do know 2 architects so he gave me his card. I sent Bill an email later that week telling him that they would be in contact .
Bill then responded back and asked if I wanted to meet for a drink that night. I said sure. So we met. The more he drank the more obnoxious he got. OK, not obnoxious but I don't know an appropriate word. I lived with an alcoholic for many years and there has to be a word for the way they get. He kept telling me that he was a nice guy.
Later that week he asked if I wanted to go to dinner, so we went to dinner by my place. It was a nice meal, and of course he drank a lot. He told me that he had a drinking problem and he hoped that it wouldn't get in the way of our relationship. I told him we really didn't have a relationship yet, and if we did I couldn't promise that it wouldn't get in the way. I described some of the behaviors that really bothered me. I told him if he really was a nice guy, he wouldn't have to tell everyone. He politely listened.
He stayed over that night. The next morning he wanted breakfast. Sorry I don't have anything in the house to cook for breakfast.
That's OK, just toast and coffee.
Sorry I don't have a toaster. So we went out.
A week later he called me at work and asked if I wanted to go see the new movie Frost/Nixon that night.
Sure OK.
Let's meet at Ruth Cris first for Happy Hour then go to the movie.
The movie started at 7. Happy Hour begins at 4. Because of the bad weather and having to take a bus home, I left work at 4. At 6 I get to Ruth Cris where he has been getting happy since 4. He ordered himself another one and I ordered a water. I didn't want to fall asleep in the movie. I hear it's boring enough without the influence of alcohol.
He then told me the PLAN. I would move into his penthouse, and he would hire a decorator to "fix" up my condo so I could rent it.
"Whoa Dude!" the second time in a month that I've used that expression. "What's wrong with my place?" Walking home later I realized I should have been more shocked that he had moved me into his penthouse. But the condo is a personal attack against my decorating taste.
"Nothings wrong", he says, it just could use some help.
He then fell off his barstool and the waiter came over and told me he couldn't drink anymore. OK, no movie. The check came and Bill was in no condition to even get his wallet out. So I paid the $100 Happy Hour check. I had to walk him back to his place. Once there he gave me a Christmas present. I had no idea we were exchanging presents. I opened it and simply stared at it. A stainless steel toaster! A very fancy and nice one. I knew I had to have the "talk" with him. I also knew I couldn't talk to him then because he was drunk and maybe, just maybe it was the alcohol talking and he really didn't want me to move in.
But then he got out a list of decorators he had put together and told me to investigate each and pick one out! So he had planned this while sober. And he had a listing of jobs available downtown because he didn't want me working way out by the airport. I said I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow.
Don't forget your toaster.
I met him the next day for lunch and told him that his drinking is causing a problem. I wanted to date for a while and see if I could get over this. But he accelerated everything too fast. After a couple dates he had me moving in with him, renting my condo out, and getting a new job.
There's a joke on the streets, (and excuse me if I offend anyone), Lesbians go out on their first dates in a UHAUL. That's how I felt. I told him he was forcing me to make a decision and the decision was I didn't want to go out anymore. He cried, and said he understood. He then got up and walked out.
I felt bad that he cried, but I felt empowered that I am finally taking control of my own life. I got back home and starred at the toaster. Should I give it back? A moral dilema: I still haven't made any toast, just in case.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
Friday, January 2, 2009
Crotch Less In Seattle
A lot of folks make New Years Resolutions. Eat better, Loose weight, stick to
a budget, Blah, Blah, Blah !!
Send me an email in about a month and let me know how these are going for you.
This year I made no resolutions, but I did promise myself that I was going to teach myself how to sew.
I always buy my jeans at the Gap. I like how they look and they always have my size. Wouldn't you think that 29 or 30 waist and a 30 inseam would be a pretty standard size?
No. I can find 30 waist and 36 inch inseam. What are these guys like 6 ft 8 and weigh 90 lbs? or 42 inch waist and 30 inch inseam. These guys are just opposite. They must look like balloons.
My only complaint with Gap jeans is that they wear out in the crotch. OK make jokes, let's go with the one that my endowment is causing them to rip! I have 4 pair of Gap jeans that are so worn "down there" that I am now crotch less. So on Thursday afternoon, I decided it was now time to learn how to sew. I went to Walgreens and bought a little sewing kit. I opened the kit and it took almost a half hour before I could even figure out how to get the thread off the little spindle thingy. I finally got some thread and then I tried to stick the thread thru the needle holey thing. I remember watching my grandmother licking the end of the thread and simply pushing it through. I swear the holes must have been bigger then. I never did get the thread in the hole. Later in my carpool, they asked me if I tried using the little aluminum thing that is made to thread the needle? I thought that was just advertising thing so I threw that away!
I got frustrated and went back to the store and bought a bunch of iron on patches. I ironed the patch on my first pair of jeans and it stuck!! However, I patched it on the outside so my light blue jeans now have a dark blue patch right on the crotch, from the front all the way back to the ass. Not sure what I'm advertising here.
I got smart after the first one and turned the jeans inside out and patched from the inside. It's amazing they worked. So I'm not crotchless anymore. What a relief. I never did learn how to sew, but I did repair my pants, which really was my goal. So be careful what you ask for, remember it's the end product you are seeking.
Sewing probably will never happen, but I am an ironing GOD.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
a budget, Blah, Blah, Blah !!
Send me an email in about a month and let me know how these are going for you.
This year I made no resolutions, but I did promise myself that I was going to teach myself how to sew.
I always buy my jeans at the Gap. I like how they look and they always have my size. Wouldn't you think that 29 or 30 waist and a 30 inseam would be a pretty standard size?
No. I can find 30 waist and 36 inch inseam. What are these guys like 6 ft 8 and weigh 90 lbs? or 42 inch waist and 30 inch inseam. These guys are just opposite. They must look like balloons.
My only complaint with Gap jeans is that they wear out in the crotch. OK make jokes, let's go with the one that my endowment is causing them to rip! I have 4 pair of Gap jeans that are so worn "down there" that I am now crotch less. So on Thursday afternoon, I decided it was now time to learn how to sew. I went to Walgreens and bought a little sewing kit. I opened the kit and it took almost a half hour before I could even figure out how to get the thread off the little spindle thingy. I finally got some thread and then I tried to stick the thread thru the needle holey thing. I remember watching my grandmother licking the end of the thread and simply pushing it through. I swear the holes must have been bigger then. I never did get the thread in the hole. Later in my carpool, they asked me if I tried using the little aluminum thing that is made to thread the needle? I thought that was just advertising thing so I threw that away!
I got frustrated and went back to the store and bought a bunch of iron on patches. I ironed the patch on my first pair of jeans and it stuck!! However, I patched it on the outside so my light blue jeans now have a dark blue patch right on the crotch, from the front all the way back to the ass. Not sure what I'm advertising here.
I got smart after the first one and turned the jeans inside out and patched from the inside. It's amazing they worked. So I'm not crotchless anymore. What a relief. I never did learn how to sew, but I did repair my pants, which really was my goal. So be careful what you ask for, remember it's the end product you are seeking.
Sewing probably will never happen, but I am an ironing GOD.
Until Next Time - Wise OUT
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