My Trip Out

Gay married man coming out story

Season Premiere

Folks, if you just tuned in, welcome to the 2nd season of Name This Fruit. We’ve got a whole lot of new fun, new positions and new Martini recipes you can try out for yourself at home. Figured with the current calm would be a good point to kinda of summarize where my story is and give a preview of where it’s going.

Meet Chris. Hi! Polite applause. That would be me. I’m the Tony Soprano of this story. In May 2006, I drove my all-terrain vehicle off the road into an illicit affair. Not with another women, but with a much younger guy. Ooops. Like eating a potato chip, I wasn’t happy with just one and spent the remainder of the year in wild mode. Instead of making me happy, my actions made me miserable. Luckily my gyroscopes spun back up and I’ve regained my balance. Along this way, I’ve met some nice people and some not so nice people. I wrote all about it.

I have a beautiful wife, 2 boys, a house in the woods, but no dog. I told my wife about my habits in February 2007, she didn’t throw me out or try and have me killed, though I do keep 1 eye open at night. I truly upset her with my actions. I’m sorry. We spent a zillion dollars on therapy help, at one point having 3 therapists going at the same time, until we realized, I just liked guys was all. We’re OK now.

In late May 2007, I decided I needed to move out. My wife is supportative of this. I selected a tony apartment in gay ground zero, otherwise known as Dupont Circle in Washington, DC. I need 24 hr valet parking. I’m high maintenance. Not much furniture, but in the right zip code.

I like younger guys (Latino being ranked highest), 5’6″-5’10”, 150 lbs, dark hair, beautiful eyes, impossible to manage, preening premadonas and high maintenance but with warm passion. Huge hair care requirements is a plus. I’m quick to spoil. They’re quick to dump. But I’m always protective of them. If the word, “Princess” perks your ears up, call now – my Vegas weekend slots are filling up quickly.

Me? I’m 46, could pass for maybe 40 (2 drink minimum). 6’2″, 180 lbs, good physical state (I’m at the gym 5 days a week). Loads of salt ‘n pepper hair, quick sense of humor, stylish clothes (no pleated pants) and ride my Razor scooter around the office hallways. Few people would put me in the “gay” bucket. I work in high tech. I moved to Washington from Los Angeles and have spent a good chunk of my career living in Europe. I have a “Don’t give a f*ck attitude” and can be brutal with people at times but I purr like a cat for the right guy and sometimes my feelings get hurt as a result.

In this next season, I’m going to be living on my own, something I haven’t done in years. I’ve lost the desire to be wild. I’m looking for someone nice to go out with. I’m still a babe in the woods of Gayville, but I’m no idiot, still a friendly guide would be helpful.

I write this blog first to maintain my sanity and second because you may be on your own journey and if any of my crap helps you cut one corner, avert one hurt feeling or stop you from doing something incredibly stupid, well I need to get my Paypal Donate box up on this site. Just kidding.

1 Comment

  1. Hmmmm. I found you through Flip and like what I read so far, especially the part about the pleated pants. Who’d have thought they would carry so much meaning these days. Every time I see a pair, I feel both smug and sorry.
    Good luck to you.

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