I have a new world champion for high maintenance. My new TV friend is on the phone, it’s 7 p.m. “I need an hour to get ready, see you a bit after 8”. I’m skeptical. He’s excited another network has picked up a concept show he developed and will produce. 8 p.m. rolls around, I’m ready, but he’s not, I’m happy watching a DVD. 8:15 text message, “I really meant 8:30 c u in a few”. Well – at 9:30 p.m. he rolls around to my front door. I ask him where we going for breakfast 🙂 . Eduardo should get lessons from this guy.

Off to a nearby restaurant, couple of drinks, bit of food, but it’s a fast dinner, an hour. He wants to come see my apartment (another person fascinated by my 4 walls and a floor, I have a ceiling which must peak people’s interest). He’s busy telling me how I’m violating all his rules for dating someone. I’m fixing drinks at the bar. Rules? Just guidelines in my book. Well — I don’t have to explain the rest.

It’s now 1:30 a.m. and he’s heading out to go home. I’m beat in all types of ways. Incoming text, it’s Conner, he’s at a bar 6 blocks from the house. I’m having a “Clint Eastwood” moment, “Do I feel lucky? Well do I punk?” It’s a classic WWRD (What Would Peter Do) moment. When in doubt, slut mode wins. I take the world’s fastest shower, throw on some new clothes and down the street I go at full speed.

2 a.m. – I find Conner in the sea of people in this club/bar. He’s hammered, but adorable, looking up at me he slurs “I’m a top, you’re not going to f*ck me, OK?” Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you. He’s got some of his girlfriends in tow. We’re in the club until it closes at 3, at which time Conner announces he’s staying with me tonight. We grab a cab (it’s starting to rain) for the short ride back. He’s achieved toothbrush status in my apartment.

Walking in, he throws off all his clothes, climbs into my bed, with me scampering quickly behind, kisses me on the cheek, wraps himself around me and promptly falls asleep. I liked that actually, it was nice to have him there with me.