So I sat down, I ate dinner, I had one glass of wine (two beer queer here), and instead of finishing my apartment, I've decided to write the following post:
I only feel comfortable hitting on a guy in a gay bar. This is the south. Any gay vibe (and I have the worst gaydar there ever was) I get from a gay in a non-gay setting, say a Barnes and Noble, he could be closeted with a wife and 2.4 kids. I say hello, and he runs away screaming. Or you get someone who's so threatened by a simple hello, how are ya, that they punch your lights out.
So no, I don't hit on anyone outside of a gay context. But here's the rub: I don't like any of the guys that I've seen/met in our gay bars.
Our major gay bar is Tribe, a Manhattan style place. I actually like Tribe. There's a bartender there who gives me good drinks, usually at a discounted price, and I can sit on a couch, if it's not too crowded. Alcohol + couch = happy Chris. But here's what I've noticed people watching (and all I do is people watch when I'm at bars):
All the guys come in in cliques or pairs, usually with the same styled hair and jeans. They get their drink, they bop along to Rhianna, and they stare at others in the bar, but nobody talks to anyone outside of their clique. They all just.....stare, as if marking their prey. Then they all go next door to the dance club called Play, and that's apparently where all the hookups/phone numbers are exchanged...on the loud dance floor or in the bathroom stall.
And that.....really isn't for me. But there really isn't another place for single gay men to go in Nashville. I joined a gay runner's group...they're all in their 50's. I figured the gay reading group would be the same, plus sucky gay coming out fiction. (Honestly, does any gay fiction get passed coming out in high school/college and explore other aspects of life and story and plot?)
It feels like every gay guy who came out got a hand book describing what I like to call "The Homo Telepathic Broadband System." It seems that at these bars, there's communication going on, but just like Morse Code, I don't know how to read it. I certainly don't know how to use it to my advantage. So inevitably, I feel like a dunce because everyone seems to be in on the gag, but me. So I drink my drink, I bob my head to some song I can't stand, and then I leave.
So where does someone like me, someone who isn't comfortable yelling his mini life story over insanely loud music, someone who doesn't use the dance floor to seduce and arouse, someone who doesn't like sleazy bathroom stall hand jobs with strangers....
......where does someone like that meet somebody in this town?
Showing posts with label Nashville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nashville. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Saturday Night in NashTrash.....
As we begin round 23 of the South's menopausal season (we don't have winter, fall, or spring, per say), the temperatures plummet from the 70's of Monday to the 30's of today. The day started off sunny but now, it's cloudy and rainy and cold. Needless to say, my cheap ass is staying in.
Going out in Nashville is not expensive, especially compared to L.A. (hello $20 parking, $15 cover, and $10 drink), but it can still burn a whole in your pocket because you realize, hey, this is pretty cheap. So far. By the end of the night, you can spend $100 easy. (Unless you're like the frat boys and head to the strip clubs at the end of the evening. You might as well chuck your wallet into the Cumberland River.)
I'm doing pretty well, better than most (Nashville is, for the most part, recession proof - thank you, healthcare billing industry), but I know I have to make cut backs. I can't make the trips into town, I can't spend money on food and drink. When one beer costs $4 and a six pack costs $6, well, you can see that the six pack is a better deal.
But I'm newly single (for those of you who don't know me...which is pretty much a lot of you), and I've been single now for six months. And I'm wondering, if I don't go out much, how am I going to meet somebody? Even if it turns out to be platonic or just a fling, interaction with another gay guy is healthy and I don't have that many gay friends here in Nashville.
There's a disease in Nashtrash among the gay men and it's called "Husband-noma." If you're not going to marry them (or provide a cheap good time), they are not interested. It's the same phenomena with single women in the south. I find that people want to be married and settled down way before 30. It's like a race and the age of 30 is the finish line. We're all guilty of it down here.
I myself rushed into a relationship and made it move too fast because I thought, "I found someone! Now I'm safe." The relationship was horrible for me, because we were incompatible. Instead of being built up, my self esteem went in the toilet, I lost all self confidence, I became much more self conscious, and not because he was abusive in any way (and was a great guy in his own right), but because we weren't working and we knew it. Instead of admitting it, I tried even harder and he went the route of apathy.
Now I'm trying to learn to be okay with the silence in my apartment. I'm finally sleeping in the center of the bed and that's never happened since college. I'm mostly fine, but there are times when I miss not my ex so much as I miss being in a relationship.
So as I sit in my apartment, alone on a Saturday night, a glass of cheap red wine in one hand, a Big Lots $3 DVD of the The Good German in the other, (I'm incredibly cheap and hey! Cate Blanchett! George Clooney! Steven Soderbergh! For $3, that's a steal, ladies and gents), I wonder if I'll have to turn to the internet to meet someone. My experience with meeting men through something as banal as myspace proved disastrous. (What can work in email does not work in person.) And as a singer who does not perform musical theatre, I hang out with mostly straight guys. Fun guys. Sweet guys. Great guys. But straight guys. They'll give me a hand when I'm down, but they won't give me a handjob before going down on me.
What about the bars, you ask? Well, now that's a different post, because the gay bars down here (of which there are...4), resemble...well...why spoil the surprise? Until next post!
Going out in Nashville is not expensive, especially compared to L.A. (hello $20 parking, $15 cover, and $10 drink), but it can still burn a whole in your pocket because you realize, hey, this is pretty cheap. So far. By the end of the night, you can spend $100 easy. (Unless you're like the frat boys and head to the strip clubs at the end of the evening. You might as well chuck your wallet into the Cumberland River.)
I'm doing pretty well, better than most (Nashville is, for the most part, recession proof - thank you, healthcare billing industry), but I know I have to make cut backs. I can't make the trips into town, I can't spend money on food and drink. When one beer costs $4 and a six pack costs $6, well, you can see that the six pack is a better deal.
But I'm newly single (for those of you who don't know me...which is pretty much a lot of you), and I've been single now for six months. And I'm wondering, if I don't go out much, how am I going to meet somebody? Even if it turns out to be platonic or just a fling, interaction with another gay guy is healthy and I don't have that many gay friends here in Nashville.
There's a disease in Nashtrash among the gay men and it's called "Husband-noma." If you're not going to marry them (or provide a cheap good time), they are not interested. It's the same phenomena with single women in the south. I find that people want to be married and settled down way before 30. It's like a race and the age of 30 is the finish line. We're all guilty of it down here.
I myself rushed into a relationship and made it move too fast because I thought, "I found someone! Now I'm safe." The relationship was horrible for me, because we were incompatible. Instead of being built up, my self esteem went in the toilet, I lost all self confidence, I became much more self conscious, and not because he was abusive in any way (and was a great guy in his own right), but because we weren't working and we knew it. Instead of admitting it, I tried even harder and he went the route of apathy.
Now I'm trying to learn to be okay with the silence in my apartment. I'm finally sleeping in the center of the bed and that's never happened since college. I'm mostly fine, but there are times when I miss not my ex so much as I miss being in a relationship.
So as I sit in my apartment, alone on a Saturday night, a glass of cheap red wine in one hand, a Big Lots $3 DVD of the The Good German in the other, (I'm incredibly cheap and hey! Cate Blanchett! George Clooney! Steven Soderbergh! For $3, that's a steal, ladies and gents), I wonder if I'll have to turn to the internet to meet someone. My experience with meeting men through something as banal as myspace proved disastrous. (What can work in email does not work in person.) And as a singer who does not perform musical theatre, I hang out with mostly straight guys. Fun guys. Sweet guys. Great guys. But straight guys. They'll give me a hand when I'm down, but they won't give me a handjob before going down on me.
What about the bars, you ask? Well, now that's a different post, because the gay bars down here (of which there are...4), resemble...well...why spoil the surprise? Until next post!
Single And The City
Nashville is having its annual Singles In The City event next Tuesday (Feb. 24th). Nashville Lifestyles are featuring the hottest single people in all of Nashville and they are going to be in one room at the Bound'ry. (Omg! Really? This is too much to handle!) All that hotness in one room, which you can be a part of...for only $45, of course.
All the single "celebrities," (I'm not kidding, that's how the ad copy reads...mingle with these "single celebrities") are featured in Nashville Lifestyles magazine, complete with professional photographs, mini-biographies, and cheesy questions ala People magazine. (Cheesy Question #1: What was the worst date you've ever been on?) The cover boy answered with a story about how he took a girl to a baseball game and she didn't know anything about baseball. So she kept asking questions and he couldn't enjoy the game. At the end, he says, "Maybe I should've asked her if she even wanted to go to the game."
Dude, I think I know why, despite your photo-shopped good looks, you are still single.
Now because I should be listed in this magazine...I am, after all, quite sexy and very single...I've decided to pretend I'm in this cheese fest and answer their own dorky questions:
OCCUPATION: Graduate Student, Singer/Songwriter, Blogger, Free Lance Blackmailer
HOMETOWN: Nobody knows where I've come from and nobody will ever know. Muhahaha.
WHAT THREE WORDS DESCRIBE YOU THE BEST: Resourceful, determined, bastard.
WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER THE MOST ROMANTIC MOVIE: War of the Roses.
THE MOST ROMANTIC BOOK: Hannibal by Thomas Harris
THE MOST ROMANTIC SONG: Push by Matchbox Twenty (a little S&M anybody?)
DESCRIBE THE WORST DATE YOU'VE EVER BEEN ON: (True Story)
A blind date. That was rescheduled because he had a bad day and needed to go to the tanning bed. I got blown off for a tanning bed. Apparently, peeps, I can't get ya hot or brown enough. We rescheduled, at the request of the friend who set us up (my immediate response was, fuck him), but instead of going for coffee, he stated that it was too cold out (Boston in March) and said we should just stay in his apartment. He brewed his own coffee (which was crappy) and then proceeded to treat me like an audition.
"So tell me something funny."
"Um...what?"
"I want to see if you can make me laugh."
"......Okay. So there's this guy who was supposed to go out with me and instead, went to a tanning bed...."
"Not funny. Tell me something interesting."
He then proceeded to quote lines from sitcoms. It took me about two minutes but then I realized, that was a Seinfeld joke. That was from Designing Women. I don't know what was sadder...the fact that he was quoting lines from syndicated reruns or the fact that I recognized lines from syndicated reruns. When he made a Golden Girls joke, I finally looked at him and said, "I know where that's from." And then told him the episode. He ran into his bedroom for a few moments, came out, and asked me to leave.
Ever since then, I've not been a fan of blind dates. Or coffee dates, for that matter.
All the single "celebrities," (I'm not kidding, that's how the ad copy reads...mingle with these "single celebrities") are featured in Nashville Lifestyles magazine, complete with professional photographs, mini-biographies, and cheesy questions ala People magazine. (Cheesy Question #1: What was the worst date you've ever been on?) The cover boy answered with a story about how he took a girl to a baseball game and she didn't know anything about baseball. So she kept asking questions and he couldn't enjoy the game. At the end, he says, "Maybe I should've asked her if she even wanted to go to the game."
Dude, I think I know why, despite your photo-shopped good looks, you are still single.
Now because I should be listed in this magazine...I am, after all, quite sexy and very single...I've decided to pretend I'm in this cheese fest and answer their own dorky questions:
OCCUPATION: Graduate Student, Singer/Songwriter, Blogger, Free Lance Blackmailer
HOMETOWN: Nobody knows where I've come from and nobody will ever know. Muhahaha.
WHAT THREE WORDS DESCRIBE YOU THE BEST: Resourceful, determined, bastard.
WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER THE MOST ROMANTIC MOVIE: War of the Roses.
THE MOST ROMANTIC BOOK: Hannibal by Thomas Harris
THE MOST ROMANTIC SONG: Push by Matchbox Twenty (a little S&M anybody?)
DESCRIBE THE WORST DATE YOU'VE EVER BEEN ON: (True Story)
A blind date. That was rescheduled because he had a bad day and needed to go to the tanning bed. I got blown off for a tanning bed. Apparently, peeps, I can't get ya hot or brown enough. We rescheduled, at the request of the friend who set us up (my immediate response was, fuck him), but instead of going for coffee, he stated that it was too cold out (Boston in March) and said we should just stay in his apartment. He brewed his own coffee (which was crappy) and then proceeded to treat me like an audition.
"So tell me something funny."
"Um...what?"
"I want to see if you can make me laugh."
"......Okay. So there's this guy who was supposed to go out with me and instead, went to a tanning bed...."
"Not funny. Tell me something interesting."
He then proceeded to quote lines from sitcoms. It took me about two minutes but then I realized, that was a Seinfeld joke. That was from Designing Women. I don't know what was sadder...the fact that he was quoting lines from syndicated reruns or the fact that I recognized lines from syndicated reruns. When he made a Golden Girls joke, I finally looked at him and said, "I know where that's from." And then told him the episode. He ran into his bedroom for a few moments, came out, and asked me to leave.
Ever since then, I've not been a fan of blind dates. Or coffee dates, for that matter.
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