Last night in Chicago. Easily arranged to meet Richard again. He’s terribly uncomplicated, just what I need. I’m on-time, he’s late, something I’m beginning to think is a big attraction for me. At Sidetrack, drink in hand, scanning the landscape.

>Back of the bar I spy an attractive guy, nice body, dark complexion, dressed in black, nursing a drink by himself. Interesting, I can’t resist, I walk back. “OK, I’ll bite what are we playing here?”. The look on his face is priceless, he’s never meet anything like me before 🙂

His name is Rashmi, part Indian and part Italian, he’s a doctor, he’s from Boston, he’s 39, he graduated from Harvard Medical, finished at Stanford Medical, he works all the time, doesn’t have many friends, likes older guys, hates Chicago, hates the people here, has 2 houses, a huge ego, totally self centered, has a therapist, wants a LTR but only if they can handle him not being involved much, despite the Italian heritage, he can’t cook, and he doesn’t really want anyone sleeping in his bed with him (it annoys him). It’s Wednesday night, he doesn’t have to work tomorrow, time to get laid.

That just in the first 10 minutes. Did I mention, he’s royally f*cked up?  So hard to tell with people nowadays. He wants me to go with him to the winebar next door. Nope, can’t, sorry.

I’m thinking this guy is miserable with himself but yet he refuses to change. You are, where you are, because you wanted to be there. Got a crappy job? It’s your fault. Got a shitty love life? Still your fault. No friends? It’s probably you. People treating you poorly? Ooops … still your own doing.

Next week this time I’ll be in my new apartment, thinking, if I’m miserable or happy, it’s my own doing. If I don’t like it, I’ll change again.