afterTHOT: Boi From The Loop

So after grabbing drinks with Work Wifey on a random weeknight, we started walking back toward the train.  As we turned the corner on Lake and Michigan downtown in the Chicago Loop, I locked eyes with this sexy young, black man who was walking in my direction with his brother.  We’ll call him Boi From The Loop.  I eye-flirted, of course, and then kept on toward the train with Work Wifey.  However, as we turned the corner he comes running around the building and yells at me:

“Where are you going?”

Of course I turned around and started to physically flirt at this point.  I told him I had to get my Work Wifey to the train, because I don’t let her walk by herself after we’ve been drinking.  So Boi From The Loop and I decided to exchange numbers.  After NYE, we were texting and he said he drank so much he was drunk crying.  And I totally get what drunk crying is, but in the moment I was trying to make a joke which totally came out wrong and I said something along the lines of

“I totally understand crying.  I recently broke up with The Ex of 12yrs!”

What!

The!

Fuck!

What was I thinking!  And it’s even worse because you can edit texts before you send them!  Needless to say, that was the last time I saw him!  Hahaha!  I have such a learning curve when it comes to dating!!!

The Scientryst Pt. 3: Non-Dates

So besides the comfortable, intimate nights we’d have at his place, The Scientist and I were going on impromptu outings, and he was learning some of my darkest secrets (though, in retrospect, he didn’t quite share as many details about his life as I did). He was also asking a lot of questions about The Ex which kinda weirded me out, but I couldn’t help but bring him up in conversation considering he was a part of my entire adult life up until now.

Our next night out after the Associate Board Gala was after work when I was on my way home from running errands. I was hungry and wanted a drink with dinner, so I texted The Scientist and invited him out with me. I was super excited to see him, but his homebodiness was taking over and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go out. So I told him he had two train stops to make up his mind. But he said drinks are his weakness (more specifically gin, which I read on social media means you have psychotic tendencies), and he told me to meet him at his place so he could finish getting ready.

He answered the door in his underwear as he usually did with his long beautiful hair all swept up in a bun.  He finished getting ready, and I grabbed my bag and we headed out.  We ate some delicious sliders and had a couple drinks and when it came time to pay, he got out his wallet to split the bill as we’d done the time before.  I told him it was on me because I’d inviteIMG_8050d him out.  Then I quickly followed up by telling him that this was not a date because I wasn’t ready for a date with anyone.  He understood and suggested that we get another drink on him.  So we headed to the new arcade bar next door and sipped on some cocktails before heading to the back of the bar to play games.

Once in the back, he asked me if I’d ever played Killer Queen to which I responded no.  It’s a group game with two teams.  Ironically, 5 seconds later, these random people asked us if we wanted to play.  The next thing we knew, we were playing this game with a dozen strangers and having a blast!  I didn’t even know there were that many people in this bar at the time!  And one girl on our team actually recognized me.  It took us a minute, but then we figured out that she was an intern under The Ex.  *side eye

We had a great time, even though some guy from the other team came to help us win and hated that we lost every time.  We literally only won like twice out of 10 games.  But none of us cared.  We were only having fun.  The Scientist was so much fun and so laid back.  Then when it was time to leave, I told him I just had to grab my bag.  He then proceeded to ask me why I even brought it with me as if to say, “aren’t you spending the night?”  And of course this thrilled me.  And then we went back to his place and made love and chilled as I played with his hair and he told me to “get out his kitchen.”  A term I heard for the first time with him.  Yes, my chosen family is mostly comprised of black folks, but that don’t mean I know everything about black culture.  Hell, I don’t know everything about gay culture.  Or British culture (my dad is a Brit).  While lying there, I also admired his numerous tattoos.  In fact, during our 3 month tenure, he got a huge new tattoo outlined on his stomach.  It was a portrait that I’d jokingly make out with.  He thought I was so extra!  Or, as I’ve stated before, I prefer the term histrionic!

I was so excited to see the progress of this tattoo as the weeks would go on.  But the Scientryst would soon come to an explosive end, and I didn’t even see it coming…

afterTHOT: I Forgot My Jockstrap

So I’m finally conquering my feels and getting around to writing my first afterTHOT post. As I mentioned previously, these will be smaller posts about my experiences within the dating realm.

The first THOT Ima talk about is myself.  Early in mine and The Scientist’s “relationship,” I spent a glorious night at his place and the next day I actually got ready for work at his apartment.  So I jumped in the shower and he gave me a toothbrush.  A toothbrush, ya’ll!  That I left at his place!  This meant he wanted me to come back more often, right?!  So I’m totally not ashamed to wear the same pair of underwear two days in a row, but he was like, no borrow mine.  I’ll admit that weirded me out a bit, but it also kinda turned me on!  How could I resist borrowing a clean pair of undies from the cutest boy ever!  Well, in the midst of packing up my stuff and getting ready, I forgot my blue jockstrap (one of my fave pairs of undies) on his living room floor where I’d tossed them the night before in a throe of passion.

Later that day The Scientist’s Judies (as he refers to his friends like an old queen) came over and were chatting on his couch when he noticed my jockstrap on his shag rug.  He quickly hid it under the couch with a sweep of his foot.  And he almost got away with it too until one of his friends decided to lounge on the floor and happened to peak under the couch and recognize a pair of underwear that was not his style!  Of course they gave him a hard time for letting a trollop he barely knew walk out in his underwear.  But that’s the life of someone Independent Single and Free!

The Scientryst Pt. 2: Secret Lovers

So the first time The Scientist and I went out together in public was almost a week after meeting.  He charmingly asked me to take him for drinks via text while I was at my Associate Board Gala which was a ticketed event.  Ironically, though, we did have a free after party up the street for which I had several drink vouchers.  So I convinced him to get dressed, hop in a Lyft, and come downtown to meet me.  This is a lot for him since he’s a homebody (at least in the winter which is normal in the Windy City).  But it just so happened to be a beautiful spring day in November in Chicago!  He met some of the people on my Associate Board, all of whom are more of acquaintances rather than friends.  And the couple we ended up hanging with for the majority of the night were new to the board, so I didn’t yet know them at all.  So we still never met each other’s friends.  In fact, I did do a little bit of some online stalking and creeped his Facebook page.  We had one mutual friend–also an acquaintance for both of us.  So really no chance of our paths crossing if we decided to never see each other again.

In the Lyft ride home, after several drinks, we made out a little and this is where I confessed for the first time that my “horrible roommate situation” was really me living with The Ex, which he had pretty much deducted on his own.  This, I think, was thFile_001e first time I stayed the night at his place.  Thankfully he lived a few blocks away from my apartment, so I could easily get up and get ready for work the next morning.  Eventually he gave me a toothbrush to keep at his place since I was staying the night so frequently. That kind of freaked me out because to me that meant we could’ve been becoming serious–and I wasn’t ready for that!

As time passed, I couldn’t get him off my mind, though. While visiting friends in NYC for Thanksgiving, one of them noticed that my “face would just light up” every time my secret lover would text me.  I of course tried to deny it, and then gave into peer pressure to show them a picture of the new lovah. I didn’t want to show them a picture because that would make it too real. Or it could jinx us! But they were right.  I couldn’t wait to get my daily texts from The Scientist.  I couldn’t wait to see him.  I tried to not be too clingy and ask myself over, but I would get so excited every time he would invite me!

You’ll have to come back next week to learn more about our nights together.

The Scientryst Pt. 1: The Intro

I started writing about The Scientist a few months back, but as I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been too much in my feels to finish.  I was going to ask for advice from you about this boy, but that time has passed.  Now allow me to just reflect upon the situation in 4 parts…

I met The Scientist online back in November while I was at the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new streetscape on Argyle Street.  I’d mentioned that I had just had lunch and suggestively said that I was looking for dessert, which apparently made hibeakerm chuckle while he was grocery shopping.  So I stopped by when he got home and we instantly connected.  He was so sexy with his long, beautiful, kempt dreadlocks that felt so amazing as they’d fall all over my naked body.  I would soon find out that he was classy, and stylish. And smart!  I mean, he grows alternative fuels and shit from fungus or something!  Like wow!  He was worldly and traveled.  He was sex positive yet modest which was an adorable juxtaposition.  He was so sweet and cute.  And those lips, though!

As the weeks went on everything was perfect.  We were secret lovers.  No one knew about our tryst until a few weeks had passed.  Then we still didn’t connect on social media nor did we meet each other’s friends.  But it wasn’t like a dirty little secret, it was a sexy little secret that only we shared.  He was giving me everything I’d wanted for years!  He’d run his fingers through my hair, which The Ex never did over the 12 years we were together.  We’d cuddle in our underwear as we’d Netflix & Chill.  He loved period shows and documentaries!  How cultured and intelligent!  We were instantly so intimate and connected that we didn’t even have to have sex every time I was over there.  I even started staying the night 2-3 times a week!  And I was totally upfront about living with The Ex and how I wasn’t looking for anything serious, though I could’ve easily fallen for him (that part I kept to myself until a few months had passed).  He said he wasn’t looking for anything in particular either.  We were just having fun and living in the moment.  It was my first time really living in the moment in a long time.

We exchanged numbers, and we texted everyday!  Though, in retrospect, I was usually the one to initiate conversation.  And I always responded way too quickly every time, so I needed to play it cool and I joked that from now on I’d have to wait an hour before responding.  He taught me how to use the energy saver on my iPhone.  He taught me that the PH levels in our bodies are always changing which could explain my recent dandruff that I’d NEVER had before.  He always said I was extra and dramatic, to which I responded that I preferred the term “histrionic”!  He also called me a hoe because I was open about my sex life (though I was quickly considering giving up all my lovers, even though I knew I couldn’t commit at the moment).  I know he was only joking, but I told him he needed to stop calling me a hoe, and we settled on a friendlier and yet still funny term “trollop”.

Things couldn’t have been more perfect.  Though, sometimes I wondered if I was staying over at his place because I liked him and wanted to, or because I was avoiding being home with The Ex.  I concluded that it was probably a little bit of both, but I definitely liked him!

Stay tuned next week to learn how the relationship (I use that term by its literal definition) progressed.

 

 

Previous Commitments

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Twisted Love

I was finally in a place where I was beginning to love myself when The Ex and I met. And so I had made these promises to myself early on:

  1. Never become a teacher because school sucks!
  2. Never settle down with your first relationship because you need to know all your options.
  3. Don’t settle down before your career is underway.

Well, I fuckin’ broke all those rules. And I may have harbored some resentment that I projected onto The Ex, which is unfair I know, but I’m only human and this was my first relationship so I was learning on the go. But breaking those rules actually helped me accomplish some goals. Teaching theatre made me realize that my mission as an artist is not only to entertain but also to heal AND educate with my work. And I wasn’t missing out on fun with other guys because The Ex and I would bring other boys into the bedroom on occasion. And my career actually started to develop because of the support from The Ex. I am so grateful for everything he’s done for me. Neither of us would be where we are today without the other, though sometimes he may not recognize all that I did for him. Asshole. Seriously, he’s delusional.  *side eye*

My resentment toward myself for not “following my dreams” kept The Ex at arms length.  I almost always had one foot out the door.  That’s not commitment.  Yet I was committed to this man for over a decade. Don’t get it twisted, though. He was no saint. He made too many mistakes that I couldn’t forgive. My heart was fighting with my brain.  And I suppose that is true love.

Star Crashed Lovers

It must’ve been a Monday because I only ever went to Hydrate on Dollar Drink Night. I’d been in Chicago for about a month, and I was already living the Party Monster lifestyleThis was my Rock Star Era. I was living in the city temporarily for an exchange program, and I was going out every night with no one to report to. I was barely 21 and I used my young, white boy, southern twink charm to get everything for free.

No matter the club, the routine was always the same: Shots at home; Get to bar; Buy first dollar drink; Do reconnaissance lap around bar; See same beautiful boyz; See new beautiful boyz; Locate prey; Settle in at bar next to prey; Time drink perfectly to be finished at same time as prey’s drink; Strike up conversation by asking what prey’s delicious-looking drink is; Accept drink that prey inevitably buys me (I learned a a lot about mixology this way); Go home with boy (not necessarily the same as prey).

So on this one particular Monday night at Hydrate 12 years ago, I followed the same routine. But there was a new player in the mix. It was this black guy. Or this Indian. Or…it was hard to tell in the light. But this guy was conducting sexual health outreach surveys for a nonprofit. (Sexual anything, mind you, certainly does not happen in public in the south.) I noticed this guy was pretty standard when asking others the questions. But when he came over to me, he got quite chatty. Definitely flirting. I was getting good at figuring that out. He started asking some really personal questions about my sexual activity. The answers to which had been much different only a month prior. He took my number in case I was eligible to do a paid survey in the future.

A few drinks and a few boys later, I’m standing in line behind him waiting to use the restroom.   Drunkenly I stated, or slurred rather, “you know, it’s not fair that you have my number and I don’t have yours.”

So he gave me his business card and told me to call him.  Excuse me? No.  I don’t call boys. They call me. But I did. The very next day.  I met him at Roscoe’s two days later. And he was black. For sure. Or Indian. Maybe. And we started hanging out every day after that. Twelve years later, this guy became The Ex and we are living together in a Pigeon Hole. And he’s black. For sure he’s black.

We were doomed from the start, though. The very first time The Ex came over to my cute little studio apartment in Boystown, we got into a major screaming fight. I kicked him out and slammed the heavy metal door in his face. It was two in the morning and this resulted in a noise complaint from the landlord. A week later we were celebrating his birthday. That’s when he introduced me to his loser friend we’ll refer to as Mr. T. I hated Mr. T.  But I always ended up partying with Mr. T because Mr. T was always there.

I never believed in true love. Not in the romantic sense at least. But to stick with someone through all the shit we endured together meant that it had to have been true love. So on this very day 12 years later, I raise my glass to a toast. Though we weren’t meant to be in this moment in time,  I will always love you, my star crashed lover.