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Fruit Flies

I do love gay men. But don’t you hate when you’re surprised about someones sexual orientation? And I’m never shocked when I’m on a date with a gay man. If I was going to end up with someone, of course it would be the fruitiest guy there is, and I’m pretty sure there are some men I’ve dated that have hooked up with more men than I have. But for whatever reason they’re still straight enough.

I was meeting this blind date at a theater on 59th street. We were going to see a show, which I thought was a very cool first date. I’m an actor and my date works as an assistant in an agency. Already he was a winner in my book. He was a little taller than me, had sandy colored hair, blue eyes, and a beard growing in. He was dressed super cute. So far so good! Then he gave me a hug and opened his mouth. And cue the sparkles. Yup right then I knew I was a goner.

Something that always bothers me on a date is when the guy doesn’t know where to go for drinks, to eat, or wherever. We had two hours to kill before the show. We spent half an hour looking for a place to grab drinks. Finally my Brokeback Mountain date picks a small, cute bar. It was the bar in Bloomingdales. Really? Out of the whole entire city we end up getting drinks at Bloomingdales. To make himself even more desirable he orders a Manhattan. And I’m not impressed. No one should drink a manhattan unless they’re over 50. Now I’m stepping over the line. There is nothing unmanly about a manhattan, I’m just so used to my dates drinking beer or whiskey on the rocks.

Just sitting in this Bloomingdales bar with this date (having pink accents on his shirt) drinking a manhattan makes me wish my mother would call me hysterically, so I can ditch my date. But she never does. I try hard to keep the attention on him. When I’m not into a date I just keep asking questions so they just keep talking about themselves. I can’t tell you what he said (I day dreamed the whole time) but I can tell you he works as an assistant to the assistant getting coffee for the agents. It’s funny how people try and a make themselves seem like hot shit. When really all they do is make Starbucks runs and work at the Gap at night.

In the theater, all I can hope is that he doesn’t try and hold my hand or put his arm around me. Nope. Instead he crosses his legs with his hands folded above them. The play ended and he walked me to the subway. The show was great but I was so glad the date was finally over. We hugged good-bye and I ran down the stairs to the subway as fast as I could. I never did hear from him again. I was kinda annoyed, I could always use another gay. It’s like I always say, Everyone has a little Homo in them.