The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Rich Man, Poor Man, Full Man, Dog Man

Money. It makes the world go around. It changes everything. Ask a mother what they want most for their single daughter and the answer is going to be a rich doctor. Let's face it...financial security is a blessing. You may not be happy, but you'll be desirable. People will envy you...and likely want to be you. Deadbeats like me will ponder how quickly I could pay off my student loan balance on his salary.

Money makes you hotter. It's why plastic surgery is so expensive. Nobody really wants to admit it, but a rich man is more desirable. But can money make a man better boyfriend material?


Date One: The Poor Man's Brunch

Now I'm the first to admit, I have no problem attracting poor guys (we have something in common). However I had known this particular man 2 years ago while I was working in Provincetown (at the time I had a crush on him), and recently ran into him in my neighborhood. We live fairly close to each other (the Upper West Side has an ordinance that only one gay man can live on each block), so we made plans to meet for brunch. Why is he poor? He's an unemployed actor waiter.

Brunch is a standard institution in New York City, and a perfect first date choice. Since alcohol is an option, you can determine if your date is an alcoholic (unlimited mimosas for $15 additional), you have your choice of lunch or breakfast items (and since I'm still not on the solid food, I can eat over easy eggs), and most importantly, you have enough people to look at if the conversation lags.

During our date, the conversation didn't lag. I was genuinely entertained and engaged by this man. We discussed his former parts, what he's currently working on, my own work, etc. I learned about his family (and oh...I have great comedy material now) and that was when the food came.

Now to be fair, I have to eat very slowly since having had surgery. And once something I attempt to eat doesn't go down easy, I'm done eating. My date on the other hand obviously had not eaten for a week. When I asked him how his eggs were, I looked at his place to see he was using his toast to mop up something that was left on his plate. Something molecular in size. His eggs must have been good, since he inhaled them.

I however, was having a difficult time eating, so I decided to stop. I'm not stupid. Choking on a first date is only acceptable in the bedroom. That was when it happened.

Poor man: Are you finished with that?
Me: Yeah...I'm full.
Poor Man: I'll finish it.

He then picked up my plate, exchanged it with his own and proceeded to eat the rest of my breakfast.

I was a little speechless, but hey...I wasn't eating it. He doesn't belive in waste. I won't judge. Just observe.

After our brunch, we walked to the flower market, where he did a really sweet thing, by purchasing me a small ivy vine to put in my window. He then walked me to my door, he gave me a nice kiss on the cheek and asked if we could see each other again.

Now this threw me off. No sex? Isn't that a rule of being a gay man. I manscaped for him and all I'm getting is a peck? No pecker?!?! Wow...I feel...straight.

Tomorrow...The Rich Man date.

Patrick - 2:07 PM -

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