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.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

A Stinking Pile

If their is one thing that I've learned from my heritage, it's the gift of "the gab". We Irish clan are a talkative bunch (just add alcohol), and are able to strike up a conversation with most anyone. Of course, talkative is nice way to say we are talented bullshit artists. So seeing that I've been on a dating spree, I decided it was only in my best interest to go on a date with one of my own clan.

Now I should have known better. I met this one online. He seemed like a really nice guy, but I was getting the "did somebody flush" vibe off of him. Still I decided to give him a chance, thinking maybe that I was just making him nervous. Anyway...he invited me to a TONY's party.

Yes, that caught my attention too. I was a theater major in college, and although i thought it was a little late, any party for the TONY awards was a party I'd be interested in. In this case, TONY stood for Time Out New York magazine, who was having a party at the Hudson Hotel.

Now the Hudson is one of the more trendy places in NYC, with drink prices reflecting it. My date however, explained that he was "on the VIP list", and we would be admitted to this private party upon arrival. The party was going to be held on the rooftop deck of the hotel, and would have an OPEN BAR (I did say I was Irish).

When I arrived, it was pouring...I should have realized God was foreshadowing my evening. That, and my date was nearly 30 minutes late. What is it with NYC homos and their inability to EVER SHOW UP ON TIME! I'm rarely late, and if I am, I'll call to let you know. Showing up 30 minutes late for a date is just plain rude. Almost as rude as commenting on the spelling of a blogger. *3 Snaps in a circle formation!*

Finally, my date did arrive. He ushered me into the elevator, and up we went to the 15th floor, through the doors and into what had somehow morphed into a hurricane of rain. Sheets of water were falling from the sky as 30+ people huddled under the small roofed in area of the bar. Sensing how bad this was turning out, the organizer moved us all back into the hotel's lobby bar, where we could continue this event sans rain.

My date and I, finally settled, began the laborious process of getting to know one another. This was where things went from bad to worse.

ME: I put in to run the marathon this year, but didn't make the lottery.
HIM: Oh I ran a marathon a couple of years back with my ex boyfriend Matt. We each finished in just under 2 and 1/2 hours.
ME: (doing a quick calculation in my head) Really? You run a 4:11 pace? Which marathon did you run and what was your placing?
HIM: The NYC marathon, five years ago. My time wasn't scored though, since my chip fell off.

I'm choosing to believe that he was just trying (albeit very hard) to impress me. This continued into the evening.

ME: Yes, I've spent some time in Africa.
HIM: Me too. I was vacationing in Kenya with my ex boyfriend Matt. We saw Mt. Kilimanjaro and decided to climb it during our last day there.
ME: (Clarifying) In Kenya?
HIM: Yes.

Mt. Kilimanjaro isn't in Kenya. It's in Tanzania. A country South of Kenya. Once again...trying to impress me? I would like to think so, but so far, he was completely full of hot air. However, I did notice that he really kept bringing up his ex boyfriend Matt a lot. So I questioned it.

ME: When did you and Matt break up?
HIM: Back in December. But I'm over him now.
ME: Excuse me for saying so, but you've mentioned him quite a bit tonight. It sounds like you really aren't over him yet.
(our waitress, hearing my words snickered and cracked a smile)
HIM: Wait. You don't think I'm over him? I'm totally over him. Yeah, I had problems at first, but we've worked it out. We're just friends now. Look, I'll call him and he can tell you that we're just friends now.

And with that, he pulled out his cell phone and called his ex boyfriend, just so the elusive third person on our date could indeed verify that yes...they were strictly friends now. Our waitress smartly brought me another glass of champagne while my date had a "quick" 20 minute conversation with his ex on the phone.

Taking fate into my own hands, I called Tunagirl and acted like she had called me. A family emergency had developed and I needed to get to her imaginary home uptown. I was very sorry...but perhaps we could continue this date another time?

No amount of free alcohol is worth it.

Patrick - 1:18 PM -

---