Single in the City is here in DC visiting his family and has graced me with a few invites. I am so honored. We have a good time chatting together. Despite the brown element and fantasies of some readers, he’s just a friend, plus he’s getting fat and over 30, thus moving rapidly out of my radar range (he’s going home soon, I can get away with this now).
Having said that he”d be a good catch. Great conversation, very balanced (not the typical “me me me” chats), he’s cute, educated, well traveled, good job. You can smell the Latino on him, deeply jealous, fiercely loyal and will do whatever to please his man (no unhappy customers). But the advantages come with a price tag, he needs a fair bit of maintenance, gotta show the love to get the love and as we all often tend to do, over think things.
But he’s a good catch, he puts himself out there, but where is Mr. Right for him? I want him to have Mr. Right, but I also don’t want him to have Mr. Wrong. Unfortunately, he settles too often for Mr. Right Now.
So last night he drags me off to some homo event because he’s supposed to met some guy he’s been chatting with on Facebook. My role, to torpedo the night if the guy is a dud. Off in the cold dark DC we roll.
Raytheon doesn’t make a better radar system than I have. One sip into my drink and I’m on to a cute guy. 26 yo, thin not brown, but brown enough, professional, a little gay (ain’t we all), he’s by himself, my kind of food group. Single in the City is not gonna stop me, he’s playing it cool. The guy is horribly sweet and friendly and clearly hasn’t been in DC long enough to develop the “I work for the gov’t and I’m important” attitude. Ah.
But what am I doing? Bad doggie. So I pull my own grenade pin. I have a boyfriend, he’s your age, his eyes get really big, we’ve been together for 3 years, he steps back a foot, he’s a brown snow tiger, he moves in a little closer, I’m married and have 2 teen age kids, he moves to the edge of the room. At this point I should have let drop that my case of crabs is nearly cleared up. I can’t help it, it’s what I do, but I’m getting better. Single Guy is secretly proud that I’ve outed myself to our new friend.
But new friend is indeed sweet cute available and chats like he is looking for a relationship, but why hasn’t he found it?
The troll that Single Guy is supposed to hook up with wanders over. Ill fitting suit, gut hanging over his belt, stripped shirt, vertical striped tie, he looks like an Optical Illusion picture. Basically, the perfect match for Single Guy. He shakes my hand with one of those queer half shakes and limp hand. Dude, you ain’t never gonna touch my junk with that move!
I don’t like him, 10 seconds in, I’m getting better, he is talking about Lauriol Plaza as the “best Mexican restaurant in DC”. Lauriol unfortunately is the worse Mexican restaurant in DC, I wouldn’t allow my dog to eat there (assuming I had a dog). I tell the troll this. Then for added insult, I ask him what qualifies him as an expert in Mexican food? I’m from Washington. Great, Washington the culinary epicenter of Mexican food with a total of 3 Mexicans. I should have asked him if others can see the image of the woman in the stripes of his shirt, but I didn’t want to insult him.
Single Guy is backstage cheering me on. I have to protect all my puppies. 🙂