Tuesday, June 22, 2010


I am in Chinatown when three tourists come up to me, unaware that I am a tourist myself.

Touristy Mommy: Do you speak English?
Me: Not really.
Touristy Mommy: What is dim sum?

I am in Chinatown when he sends me a text, "When are you gonna be back from Chicago?" I tell him I will be back Monday night. I wonder why he asks because regardless, he is still going to be in New Jersey. My whereabouts are largely irrelevant. A few minutes later he asks when he can call me. This immediately feels strange, this proactive effort to speak to me.

As soon as I return to the hotel room, I hide in the bathroom, turn on the stall shower, sit in the bathtub, and call him. He picks up and his voice is comforting, despite the sound of the shower in the background and my racing heartbeat.
He tells me he was in New York City last night. He stayed out too late and needed a place to sleep so he went to the apartment of a man he had hooked up with before [we were together]. This is where the man tried to kiss [fuck] him. So he left and went to the train station and fell asleep until the first train left for New Jersey in the morning. He tells me that nothing happened and that he loves me.
I ignore the holes in his story. He's never been to New York City before, why would a former hook up live there? Out of everyone he knows living in New York City, why pick this place? Why did he have that man's phone number and address? What did he expect would happen? I don't interrogate him with these questions, partly because I'm afraid of the answers and partly because I've been in the "shower" for too long. Deep down I know he didn't go there just to fall asleep. But I tell him I trust him. In my head I rationalize that trusting somebody is not as hard as being alone. But then again, I am alone right now, aren't I.

Maybe this is a self fulfilling prophecy. I was so desperately worried about him cheating that it has become a very real possibility. This is ironic and obnoxious because I dream about discovering ten million dollars of cash in my basement all the time and that prophecy has yet to materialize.

Later in the afternoon, I muster up the emotional composure to take a walk down Lakeshore Drive and then eat an entire stuffed pizza.

When I wake up the next morning, I feel like hell. I self medicate myself with pain killers and Jamba Juice. My sister has already checked out and the hotel room feels dark and empty. As I gather my things and motion towards the door, I look back and find it difficult to leave. Like closing the pages of a good book, it's hard to watch these adventures and this life[style] come to a close. And I know that when I land in DC, I will have to return to a life[ ] and perhaps a failed relationship that no amount of painkillers and Jamba Juice can pacify.


Anonymous said...

i love the "life[]". Brilliant. Saying everything you want to without literally saying anything.

Do you think its in the nature of gay men who've felt rejected to worry about being left by someone who they've found to be their "gem"? I can relate to this feeling, though I've never been in a m-m relationship myself.

Tommy said...

Hope you told her Dim Sum was made from white kids....that would shut her up.

The story does sound a little odd but you know him better than any one of us, so you should trust your feelings about the talk.

Take a breath and some time to think, you just need talk to him about what happened with some distance from it.

JP said...

Dude, same thing happend to me in New York and DC Chinatowns, it's annoying and i'm always tempted to be snarky in response but end up stopping myself short.

As to the other topic, I'd take a breath and talk it out with him, don't make it too up front and confrontational but try and work out some explanation.

Take care.

SGfNYC said...


He's never been to New York City before, why would a former hook up live there?
Because the former hookup moved there recently.

Out of everyone he knows living in New York City, why pick this place?
How many people can he supposedly know in NYC who would let him crash for the night.

Why did he have that man's phone number and address?
A hookup now considered in the realm of friendship. There is nothing necessarily wrong with keeping his number. Reminder: you're not married yet.

What did he expect would happen?
Well, drink and talk about the good past times and the new loves in their lives.


My take: TBA as every self-respected gay man staying across the River would have done, paid a visit to New York City.
Met the former hookup, as one always wants a local friend when visiting a big city (wish you had one in Chicago) and probably visited the famous gay area of the Village.
Former hookup was super nice and offered to host TBA who I am sure was fairly drunk. Once relaxed in the apt, former hookup tries his game. TBA probably thought a quickie was not a bad idea, but then realized he could not do it. He is a man with a consciousness and repulsed, repented and reprimanding himself, he rushed out of the apt, in the wilderness of the night.
He chose to sleep on the floor among the homeless dudes in Penn Station.

He has to share this story with you and calls you at some point. He tells you what happened and feels much better.
Of course, because one should never be honest with his partner, he is now a suspect. He is suspected to be a liar and a cheater, an adequate punishment for anyone who dares to be honest instead of shutting up.

Time-wise, summer will probably be longer than the time that you spent together after becoming sweethearts. It came a bit early and it will be quite a challenge for your very young relationship. Your worries are understandable and reasonable.

(See if you can break the summer in two and find a way to meet him. Jump on Bolt and have a date in New York City with him.)

Time will tell whether this thing of yours will survive but his willingness to communicate and share with you his good and bad experiences should be a source of optimism.

Anonymous said...

You will cheat on him before he cheats on you.

Craig said...

Sounds like a pronouncement of fact from on High.

Curious; when you (as you say) "wallow in self-pity" and "whine about your depressing existence", such as in this post, are you receptive to the solace and/or advice you receive from your readers or do you snicker with derison when you read them?