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.

Friday, June 15, 2007

That's So Fetch!

Now I should probably mention that although I've been writing these last few posts as if they had happened in "real time", I have not had 4 dates in four days. Even I need to get a little rest every once in a while.

That being said, after reviewing the last three dates, I found myself feeling let down. This is what it's come to? The single choices left in this city are nothing more than pool scum, and I've become the skimming screen getting these guys stuck in my net. Rich, poor, and poser...they all sucked.

So I did what any self respecting homo would do and took my skim latte and NY Times to the park for a little alone time. Unfortunately, so did all of the Upper West Side, and the only bench I could find a seat on was the bench in canine hell. Otherwise known as the dog park.

New Yorkers are fanatical about their dogs. In the winter, you will see dogs wearing leather coats (which usually cost more than any piece of clothing I own). In the summer, the owners take them all to the dog park, and set them free to smell the other dog asses, and hump each other in bliss. Not unlike a gay bar. And in this park is where I met Shaggy and Scooby. (ok...not their real names...but give me some artistic license here).

I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, tossing a ball for his dog. Scooby, an older mix of breeds, was happily playing fetch with Shaggy, but brought the ball over to me after his owner threw it. Ok...I'll admit it. I pretended to have food in my hand, which is why the dog came over, but it gave me a chance to talk to the guy.

Shaggy sat down and we got to know each other while continuing to play with Scooby. It was very charming, and we exchanged telephone numbers and I suggested going out the next day. Shaggy accepted and we agreed to call to arrange the details.

Later, when we finally spoke on the phone, I suggested a restaurant in the neighborhood that was a great first date place. Nice music, not too loud, trendy without being pretentious. Shaggy had one complaint about the place. "They don't have outdoor seating, so I won't be able to bring Scooby." I guess it was cute, but to go on a date with Shaggy, I was gonna have to go on a date with the dog too. So we picked an outdoor cafe.

The meal itself was going well, except that throughout the conversation, my date would in questions in the plural and always confirm his answers with the dog. "We love the park! Don't we Scooby!" It was getting weird. It's a dog...not your child.

Upon leaving the restaurant, we walked down the street, with Scooby stopping at every tree, each trash bin, and one bicycle to mark his territory. By the time we had walked 4 blocks, the dog would lift his leg and nothing would come out anymore. We stopped near a grassy area and Shaggy looked at Scooby and said "Go poo-poos" in his best baby talk. The dog did as he was told and left a big steaming pile to be cleaned up.

Nothing is more romantic than walking arm and arm with a date carrying a big bag of dog shit.

We walked along the street back to his place, where he put his dog in the house.

We had a great walk, didn't we? And we had such a good dinner. I wuv you. I'll be inside soon, my good boy.

It was sickening sweet...but hey...he's a dog lover. I won't fault him much. Seeing the other dates...I've dated worse.

We sat outside and continued a conversation for another 10 minutes or so, and then said our goodbyes. He looked me in the eye and said:

We had a good dinner. Yes we did. I'd like to see you again. Mmm-kay. Maybe next week. We could go to the park. We could play ball. Mmm-kay. You're so sweet.

I sounded all to familiar. Probably because it was in the same voice that he used when addressing his dog. This guy would take care of me, feed me, bath me, keep me exercised, and all I'd have to do is be his best friend and hump his leg every once in a while.

******
We're all searching for something for that illusive love that we've dreamed of. Those that say they aren't are lying. Yes, it's true that you don't usually find love until you stop actively looking for it. It's beating back the loneliness enough that you can find yourself entertained in your own life on your own that is difficult.

Now if you excuse me...my date just threw the ball to bring back.

Patrick - 10:27 AM -

---