A few nights later, I ventured back into JR’s intent on staying and meeting someone. This time with a real purpose.
Ordering a drink, I settled in for the evening. Alcohol would be my co-pilot. I observed, nodded to a handful of guys. I’m normally an extrovert and not shy about talking to strangers. But I needed the vodka to fuel me for this mission.
As the evening wore on, the alcohol started to have it’s impact. Treat this like I’m picking up a women, I thought. Find one without a flock and circle in for the kill, standard operating procedure. I noted a short mid-30’s black guy sitting by himself nursing a drink. Clearly dressed a bit girly, I was attracted to him. God – a middle aged girlie homo, is that what this is all about?
Working the courage up, I went over and said hello, unsure of exactly how he would respond. He replied warmly, his name was Chris, and we began to talk. What we talked about I have no idea. But the physical chemistry was there. First the closeness, then the slight touch, a light kiss to the neck. By the end of the evening, I’d openly had a make out session with him. Wet n’ hard would have been the weather conditions in my pants.
It was now late. We both didn’t seem to want more that night. We exchanged cell phone numbers and promised up on Saturday night. The understanding was that something hotter would occur at his place. I drove home, my wife was asleep.
On Saturday afternoon, my cell beeped, it was a text from Chris, "are we getting 2gether 2nite?". I didn’t reply, this was too much too soon with someone I didn’t know. Luckily, he never called or text’d me again. He was probably a nice guy. He didn’t know I was marrried with children living a life in the ‘burbs.
FOOTNOTE: Only later did I learn that 1 out of 2 young black men in the Washington, DC area are HIV +, about 4% of the Washington population period, is HIV +. It’s a sad statement that our nation’s capital is on par with African countries in some many regards.