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, October 09, 2008

First Impressions

Ok...so I decided I needed a change to the layout. Feel free to criticize. As for RSS and Atom feeds, since I'm hard coding, I've not figured out how to do this yet. I'm getting there.

I won't be the first to say this. I've dated quite a bit. Ok...that may be down playing a bit, but I'd like to think that I'm more difficult to get into than a community college. So believe me when I say this. There are some rules to dating that must always be followed.

For instance, when dating someone new, you don't tell your family about it until you are both ready, as you don't want the expectations of too many people hanging over your heads.

Last weekend, the rules were broken.

The guy I've been dating told me that his sister would be in town for the weekend, and he'd love if the three of us could go out to dinner. Although nervous about meeting a family member, I agreed.

The two of us were to meet her at a local and very casual restaurant in my neighborhood. We waited at the bar, my date and I wearing jeans and t-shirts, and drinking beers. As his sister walked in, she walked quickly up to my date and said "I am so sorry".

His parents were with her.

My date introduced me to his sister, his father, and lastly...his mom. One look from the woman said it all..."You're the man who is fucking my son." Which although true, really was something I wasn't prepared for.

I finished my beer in one drink and ordered another one, asking what his family would like to drink. They ordered water. I now looked like the "Alcoholic man who is fucking her son".

We sat for dinner and conversation begins. They ask what I do for a living. That's always a complicated question for me, but comparing it to my date...let's just say he's got a very professional degree and job and I'm a nobody in the job world. I accepted it a long time ago...but trying to make my self look better in the parents eyes...well that wasn't happening.

I am now "the careerless alcoholic who is fucking her son".

I drink more beer, and order a salad off of the menu with nuts. I should know better. I have accepted a long time ago that I will likely not ever be able to eat as comfortable as everybody else. Steak, pasta, heavy breads and nuts are not allowed to be eaten, as I just can't swallow it. So me being a nervous dumbass, I ordered a salad full of walnuts.

And promptly puked it back up in the bathroom. Which would have been very covert, except that my date's father was in the bathroom as well.

Now I am the "bullimic, careerless, alcoholic who is fucking her son."

I skip dessert, as I'm ready for the evening to be over. My date has no clue the apprehension I have been going through, although his sister leans in and says I'm doing fine. She knows the rules!

We walk back to my apartment...I thought to myself. He's so lucky that my family doesn't live anywhere near me.

Patrick - 11:05 AM -