" Convinced I had misheard him, I asked him to repeat that. I know how that scenario usually ends: a rain coat, an axe and "Hip to Be Square" by Huey Lewis and the News blasting from a stereo.
By the end of the night, I had met about 16 different men, and I can tell you that the look of disappointment that flashed on their faces upon seeing me never got old.
Stretching my social muscles was a good exercise, and it's fun trying to make strangers laugh.
Some of the men were veterans of speed dating, and from the sound of it, they had not lost hope.
I was less than halfway through a night of gay speed dating for "bottoms" and "tops" and had already been asked three times if I was in the right group. You're gayer than Judy Garland's Christmas ornaments. " I eventually "lost" my name tag at some point in the night. Far too many of the men, who were essentially about to go on at least 15 first dates, were wearing T-shirts and tank tops.
"I mean, I don't blame them, but it's not like I had a choice," I continued thinking to myself while mindlessly nodding along to what my fifth date was saying. Once everyone had registered, our organizer separated us into our respective groups. Whereas I tried to look as though I had just gotten off my fancy job as a writer, a majority of the men looked as though they had just left their shift at Aeropostale. Why were they dressed like that dude from high school who always tries to sell you knives when you run into him every trip back home?
I was tired from putting on the performance of my life, and he was tired from all the normals he'd had to speak to.
"No one here believes I'm a top," I thought to myself while taking the first sip of my second overpriced beer. " he yelled, throwing them to one side of the proverbial gymnasium. I was surprised to see that of the 30-ish men there, only three (including me) were dressed up.Although I have no plans to meet with any of the men from my speed-dating event, I'm glad I went.It was incredibly refreshing to meet people in real life, for once.This was only heightened by the fact that most of the men at the event were, as I said, aggressively average -- like, community-college average. Most of the men were hilarious -- unintentionally, that is.
One gentleman, for example, interrupted me halfway throughout our introductions and asked with a smile, "Are you a Greek god? I gave him the ol' side eye and sipped out of my beer suspiciously. "I would love to take you back to my apartment to photograph you." Flattered, and with a bit of beer foam dribbling out of my mouth, I politely declined.
It was like a nightmarish game of dodgeball that would air on LOGO.