Well, fancy seeing YOU here.
Of course since the weekend had a high point, it had to have a low point as well. Not really scraping the bottom of the barrel low, but not so fun either.
I was sort of moody on Friday after work because no one had gotten in touch with me to do anything… at all. Sure I had the cheesecake to do, but I could have handled that and headed out while it cooled. After I popped it in the oven I started making gin and tonics and chatting with Serge via teamspeak. We gabbed and watched movies (the same dvds in both locations) until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
Saturday I was pleased since the cheesecake was looking good and I was going to get out of the house later with Michael. There was a BWMT potluck that evening. I generally don’t do potlucks because few people are good cooks, even though they make the attempt, and the ones that don’t cook just grab some packaged something on the way – usually Popeye’s or KFC. Plus at BWMT gatherings the age demographic tends to skew much higher and most of them are couples. Still I don’t really see it as a meat market, just some nice guys to chat with and it gets me out of the house to be social. Well while I had fun and caught up with some people, overall I kept my walls up. I don’t know what I was hoping for, maybe some good and fun conversation a bit enlightened — I never really chat about current events except with Everett and occasionally Tom online. But overall the evening was filled with bad jokes, mostly sexual, horrid innuendo (in whose end, oh?) and the “you’re really familiar enough with me to be touching me like that” physical contact. If there was ever a night for me to display my feline characteristics, that was it. The food was good though, there was a great gumbo, and my cheesecake got compliments and that always makes me preen and purr. Still I was left with this overall feeling of, “Is that all there is?” about the future. I am not shy about sex at all, but I’d like to think that when a group of gay men get together there’s more to do than try to hook up and more to talk about than silly sexual comments.
After the potluck, a few people headed out to the DC Eagle. I haven’t been to the Eagle in a LONG time, since before they went non-smoking and before they cracked down on all the sexual activity (as to my own activities, the past remains the past). It is a completely different feeling in there now, it’s still darker, but there’s no smell and you can actually see across the bar now. The men haven’t changed all that much but when you head outside to the deck for some “fresh air” you are instantly assaulted with cigar smoke, so I think I’ll stick to places with better air conditioning in the future.
The group I was with didn’t really feel like an Eagle group, they sorta clumped like a bunch of schoolgirls in one spot that was terribly lit. Not that the Eagle is brightly lit, but when one’s skin color is darker, it’s kinda hard for anyone to tell you’re cruising them from across the bar. I think the mood I was carrying from the party stayed with me, I wasn’t in much of a mood to chat, but there was plenty of eye candy and that was ok with me. For some reason the drinks are being poured much weaker than I remember, so I couldn’t even get a decent buzz.
I was enjoying watching the crowd, zoning out a little here and there when Michael nudges me and says, “Isn’t that Jason?” This changed the feeling of the whole evening radically. I read somewhere once that a breakup needs an amount of time to mourn equal to how long you dated up to a year — this was for short term relationships. You can date and hook up or whatever in that time, but it may well take about that long for you to feel truly comfortable around the person. Well I guess my time ain’t there yet, but I was actually more upset with Michael for telling me at all, he didn’t have to, and then pressing me to find out if it really was him, which I felt was totally unnecessary. I snapped back at one point, “I don’t know if that’s him or not!” which I’d think would send enough of a signal that if it was him, I don’t care to know and if it wasn’t, I still don’t care. But Michael, much as I love him, is one of those friends that will say things and then afterwards say “I don’t know why I said that!” — usually, he just wasn’t thinking, and he definitely wasn’t thinking at that moment.
So it made the evening somewhat awkward, but as I caught sight of him (if he noticed me he gave no sign) he was just walking around, doing the usual bar stroll, and stopping against the wall to have a drink and back to walking. It seemed kinda sad, actually. Admittedly I wasn’t doing much different, but I was with people. I think the thing that annoyed me was that every time I’d suggest going out for drinks or dancing on a Fri/Sat evening, he always seemed into the idea but when time came he’d back out at the last moment so we never really went “out” except to happy hours after work. And he certainly never expressed an interest in going to the Eagle, so I guess it was more frustrating than anything else. It’s probably good that we didn’t bump into each other as I have no idea what I would have said, but since we said we’d end it as “friends” one or the other of us would feel the need to be friendly or maybe chat a bit — and that wouldn’t have ended well at all.
Sunday I was mostly unplugged, I was on a bit and Gregory via chatting noticed I was in a foul mood and he didn’t try to coddle or counsel me, which I appreciated. Eventually I snapped out of it and got to cleaning up a bit, played some games, watched Planet Earth dvds and made a simple pasta dish for dinner. I really need to get better about my eating, but I also want to save up some room for New York. Not that we have plans to eat out in grand fashion, but since it’s technically vacation, that means none of the calories I consume count. So it’d be better to start behaving now.