So Many Things

Ragazzi, there are so many things happening tonight that I, in my intoxicated state, don't know where to begin. Especially since my left hand is typing faster than my right hand.

On the good side, Andrew e' il mio ragazzo. Hmmm, you guys probably don't know Italiano. Andrew and I are now boyfriends.

Happy dance, happy dance, gonna do my happy dance!

To be honest, I've never been with a guy who thought I was worthy of being a boyfriend. I've had a lot of "f* 'em and leave 'em" types, but no one who wanted me for me. Everything I think about Andrew and I, I get a stupid smile on my face.

In the middle, Howie quit. Gods, what am I gonna do? No Howie at the Union Station? Howie was my staple on my off nights. Hmmm, maybe I should say Howie was my backup flirt. According to him, quitting was a "good" thing. So, I bought him something called a "wank spank". Not quite sure what was in it, but I got the left overs and it was tasty.

On the bad side... Gary. I guess even after several weeks of not talking to each other and he still things we "might" be a couple. Guess I'm going to have to give him a call and let him know that I'm seeing someone else.

I guess I think I post the rest nella matina quando sono more coherent.

Licks to all!

Last Night

WOW, what a night!

Decisions, decisions. Should I protect the innocent or should I just pretend everyone is as wicked as I am and tell all? Hmmm, better to protect the innocent.

Allora, ieri sera era molto bella per me! Dinner at Kona's and a second date with... Hmmm, name names? Well, let's just say it's the second date with the guy that I'm falling for pretty fast.

Anyway, Kona had a migraine part of the day so she wasn't able to really cook anything. So she got le lasagne, la pizza blancha, l'insalata, and bread sticks from a place called Mama Mimi's. Pretty good food for takeout. It was me, my new boyfriend (oh, hell, his name is Andrew), Kona, Rodney, Farella (?), and Camden (?). Sorry, not good with names, just faces. Farella had a glass or two of wine, Rodney drank diet Pepsi, Camden drank red wine, and Kona, Andrew, and I drank 4 regular and two large bottles of white wine from about 7 in the pm to midnight. Hmmm, can we say DRUNK?

I have to admit, Andrew and Kona really hit it off. Seems they both work(ed) for Columbus Public Schools for a while and had acquaintances in common. So they chatted back and forth about work related issues for a long time. They hit it off so well that if he wasn't gay Kona would have a new boyfriend.

Then they figured out that they are both free on Thursdays and they want to join me at the Union Station to check out Kyle and Howie and keep an eye on me. Seems they don't trust me when I go out by myself.

Oh, did I mention that they made plans for a date of their own on Saturday. (Grrr) Back off chicky, that's my guy!

Anyway, when we finally left Kona's, in the middle of last night's f*ing snowstorm, it was almost 2 in the am. I don't work and those two both had to get up early. Can we say grouchy and sleepy? Especially Andrew. He was a little too tipsy to make it home last night, so he stayed with me. We cuddled up and talked for a while. He didn't get to sleep until 3:30 or so. 2 1/2 hours of sleep is so not cool.

(Must remember to protect the innocent...)

But, we got up at 6, I got him some coffee and got him out the door, so hopefully he isn't feeling overly unwell today and not too grouchy to his workmates.

Well, better run. I have yoga in a few hours and need to get my shit together and get ready to go. Plus, I have to decide if I should plan what to do on Friday or let Andrew make the decision. Gah, what to do, what to do?

Ciao, tutti!

My Date

I had a date, I had a date!

I had no plans on Friday, other that the standard pizza and w(h)ine with Helene and watching sci-fi Friday (Stargate, Stargate Atlantis, and Bubblestar Galacticat, er, Battlestar Galactica). But, early in the day (my day, which began at noon-30) I started talking to this guy I've been in and out of contact with all week. After talking for a while, I thought, hell, let's do something. So, after another hour of chatting we narrowed the date down to drinks and a movie (Underworld: Evolution. Era molto buono!). We were to meet at 8:17 (in the pm) at Don Pablos.

I raced around prepping dinner, fed Helene, then kicked her scrawny ass out the door. Well, something like that. Anyway, 10 minutes after her I left to go to the bank and get some cash, then went to Don Pablos. I was a few minutes early, which was cool, because now I could watch who came in and decide if I should take an "out".

So I get a drink, sit at the bar (it's upstairs, for those of you who didna know), and look around. A little later this guy comes in and sits down and I think, he's handsome. The guy gets out his phone, dials a number, and then my phone starts buzzing it's ass off. COULD I BE THIS LUCKY??? I WAS!!! HOT DAMN!

He say's "I'm upstairs at the bar overlooking the 1st floor."
ME: "I know"
Him: "You don't know. How do you know." At this point he's looking around in the direction away from me.
ME: "Because I'm sitting right behind ya!"

So I moved over to him and we chatted for a while, had some chips and salsa, then went to the theatre. After the movie we talked some more by the cars (we were parked in the same row). About 1/3 of the way thru the conversation he said, "So, do you want to go out on another date?"

Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! So, the 2d date is at 7pm at Kona's. He's coming to my place first, so I'm "trying" to clean the clutter a little. Never did that before for anyone else.

I know all of you are asking, what's his name, what does he look like? Tutti, back off! All in good time. We both agreed that if the relationship is going to build correctly, we need to take it slow and sweet. He's not going to get dumped into this blog (by name or by description) until the time is right. Unless, of course, he really want to be exposed. Hmmm, that didna sound right.

Anyway, the date was great. I know it worked because I found myself thinking of him all day Saturday and today. Plus, he called last night before his poker game, something I wasn't expecting but was grateful for anyway.

Well, I'd better get hopping. The clutter in this place ain't gonna go away on it's own.

Buon giorno, tutti!

Addendum

Just got up and realized I forgot to put in something from last night. Well, early this morning, anyway.

When I first saw Kyle, I told him that he ruined my evening by not working. So, he goes on this rant about needing the time off and how he and Howie had planned to take Thursday off and blah, blah, blah. So, I said, "You just remember that next week when I don't tip you!"

Then Kyle goes running over to Howie and tells him what I said. Both of them turn to look at me and that fucker Kyle actually had the nerve to give ME the finger. Now, I coulda told him where he could put that finger, but it was a pubic, er, public place, so that kinda action might have been joined in on frowned upon.

The last shot I bought the dynamic duo was peppermint schnapps (Howie's idea). I warned Howie that if he kept throwing straws I was going to get him another shot. So, what does he do, he throws a straw at Kyle. BARTENDER! Initially it was going to be just Howie, but Kyle made a suggestive rude comment, so he got another one too. Howie drank his down with no problems, but Kyle actually spit half of his back out. Most of which hit my face and glasses. Said he wasn't expecting peppermint schnapps. After giving him the whatfor, I tried to clean my glasses, but it was too late.

SO, when I get home, what do I do? I lick them clean. MMMMMM. A delicious mix of peppermint schnapps and DNA of Kyle! Must be why my throat is so scratchy this morning.

Uh, was that too much information? Hmmm, guess I'd better go and clean house now.

Ciao, tutti!

DAMN THEM!

OK, I'm going to try to get as much as this in as possible. For some dumb reason, the hangover is already forming and I've only just stopped drinking.

As most of you know, or guess, Thursday night is my night to be able to (harmlessly) flirt with Kyle, and Howie on occasion. So, what happens? I go into the Union Station and guess what, neither one of them are there! Bastardi!!! Now, I will admit that Josh is cute and Eddie is funny to watch and, for a lezzie, Rocquelle (sp?) is just hot (with a capital HOT). Still, I wanted my Kyle to play with (in more ways than one).

Dirty mind, dirty mind... Back to the post:

Anyway, I stayed at the Union Station until about midnight or so, talking to John (a total hottie) and Dan, his "friend". BTW- John has a nice, hairy chest. MMMMMM. Yes, he's older than me, so I'm not robbing the cradle. I say that because I sent Sister Helene a text message asking if it was OK to f*ck a 17 y/o guy. NOT. Do y'all think I'd be stoopid enough to do that???

Hmmm, speaking in hick. Concentrate and get back on the subject:

Allora, at midnight I left the Union and headed home. Unfortunately, home happened to be past Havana's tonight. They were having the "Lipstick and Lashes" contest (amateur drag queens). So I thought I'd drop in for a few and see who won. I wasn't in the door more than 5 minutes than I see Kyle, drunk off his ass. A minute later I see Howie, drunker than Kyle.

Revenge is sooo sweet. Let's just say that neither one will be so nice to me ever again. I know that Kyle gave me the finger (twice) and Howie kept saying how "sober" he was. Well, after I bought them 3 shots... Well... Hmmm. Well, let's just say that Howie and Kyle had a little "altercation" and Kyle left in a huff.

After making sure Howie was OK (his bf Chris was working at Havana, so I assume he is fine) I left to make sure that Kyle was cool, too. I chased that fucker all the way down 9 blocks to the Union, only to find him ordering a Long Island. After making sure he was going to be OK (Rocquelle was there, so she'd kick his ass), I left for home.

But, once again, Havana intervened. I stopped in to check on Howie again and found out that Kyle had called up and apologized, so the two had "kissed" and made up. So I told Howie that I was outta there, I was going home and I would see him soon.

Now, if both them fuckers had worked liked they were supposed to, I wouldn't have been able to buy them drinks (and be out 35 bucks) and they wouldn't have fought. Well, mebbe they woulda fought, who knows. That part was a pure accident / misunderstanding.

Well, ragazzi, this bitch needs to get her beauty rest. Licks to all!

The B-Day Post

No, not mine. I don't just do one day of birthday, remember. I did the whole f*ing week, way back in Roctober. No, this is a friend of mine, named Nathan. We met last Summer shortly after he broke up with his girlfriend. Anyway, he had planned a roaming party (eg, bar hopping) and was going to invite me, but thought that I wouldn't show up so he didn't invite me.

Allora, I ended up with the group because 1) I went to the Union Station after hitting the gym, and 2) I sent him a text message wishing him a happy b-day. Ends up he was starting his jaunt at the Union. He came in with his crew and I bought him a drink and we goofed around while I dealt with various other phone calls and ignored the guy from the previous Saturday who was glaring daggers at me and Nathan, who was tickling me in a very sensitive area. :)

After a couple of hours of him torturing me sexually and getting me all hot and riled up, he says that we need to leave. Huh? Evidently we are supposed to head out and meet some others at Blazer's Pub. The conversation went something like:

Me: Are there any cute bartenders there?
Him: Uh, no.
Me: This isn't a biker bar or something, is it?
Him: It's a lesbian bar.
Me: WTF! Why the hell are we going to a lezzie bar?
Him: It's karaoke night!
Me: ...

So, at 10 we went off to Blazer's. Smoke stack city. Let me tell ya, those lezzie's really were filling up the room with carcinogens. I've never, ever, seen the lesbian version of a fag hag, but there was one there that night. He, besides me, was the only gay guy in the place (Nathan is bi, which is why he was doing things to me at the Union), and he was a little piece of paradise. Not that anything was going to happen, after all, he was with his lezzies and had eyes only for them.

Then what happens? I get my nice leather jacket ripped to shreds by a psycho lezzie with a knife because I was looking at her fag. NOT! There was something on the wall that had a sharp edge to it. While I was leaning against the wall, that sharp edge slice up my jacket. NOT HAPPY!

After that, I played pool with Pretty Jeff and his boyfriend, Chad. Jeff is a friend of Nathan's, and both of them are very, VERY cute. Too bad they're a couple...

Anyway, it was a fun night, even if we were at a lezzie bar. When we left Nathan and I were arm in arm, mainly because he was swaying too much. As we walked down the street, some asshole in a car said, "Hey, look at the fags." Grrrr. If Nate and the rest hadn't kept me under control, I'd've put someone in the hospital. I'll take a LOT of shit from people, but when I'm in the Short North, that's my territory. It's the only gay mecca Columbus has and I'm not going to take kindly to people saying nasty things about me.

On a happier note, I just went to my first nude yoga class. I'm not going to say anything more about it other than that.

Buona notte, tutti!

Remember the Mantra. Remember the MANTRA!

There are oh so many things to talk about, but we'll stick with last Saturday and why I made up David's Rule #4 (or was it 3?). Anyway, for those of you who are familiar with Columbus, the Gallery Hop was last weekend. Rather than sit at home and be bored to tears, I decided to hit the Short North. After a workout and dinner, of course.

The workout went well. 1 hour of cardio and 35 minutes of weights. Sat in the steam room for about an hour or so (thank GOD they turned down the heat in there). Dinner was at the Union Station (where else?). Flirted with Michael and Howie for about an hour or so, then left for the galleries.

It was rather blah. The only thing that was exciting was at the Mahan Gallery. They had several artists who did paintings on different phobias. Very cool. Unfortunately, there was no one dancing in the window of the Full Monty. Usually there is at least one hot studly gyrating his hips and trying to entice passerbys to come in.

Anyway, after an hour I make it back to the Union Station and found a seat at the bar next to this guy. As soon as I sit down, he starts chatting me up. Now, rule #4 (or was it 3) goes something like: "Thou shall not pick up bar or street trash". Well, guess who forgot. Stupid me, I told him I'd take him home (he'd ridden the bus) and began to buy him beer.

About midnight the fucker (I wish) went out for a smoke. When he came back in he started hitting on everyone (guy, girl, lezzie). I saw him take at least one shot of tequila. At that point I left the bar and headed out. I had every intention of leaving him there, but my concious got the better of me. Damn councious. Damn me for saying I'd make sure he got home okay. I went back and got him.

It was on the way back to the truck that he turned into a sloppy drunk. Whining and crying and carrying on how bad his life was. Then, all of a sudden, he doesn't want to go home, he wants to go back to my place. Uh, I don't think so. So, off to the bath house we go.

When we got there my friend Robert (he works there) looks at Tim and I can see it in his eye: bar trash. Then he looks at me with: what are you doing with bar trash?

So, I got him straightened out, sobered up, then took him home. And it only took about 5 hours.

Later that day (obviously, it's now Sunday) I'm telling my friend Gary about it and he say's, "Um, Tim? That guy is 6 different kinds of trouble. You're lucky you weren't shot." Uh....

SO, remember my mantra: NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH. NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH. NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH. NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH. NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH. NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH. NO BAR TRASH, NO STREET TRASH.

Unless, of course, they are too cute to pass up, like last night.

Long story short, I was sorta kinda too drunk to get home (thanks Kyle!) so I head to the bath house. While I'm there I see this hottie from the bar. If you've been reading my posts, he's the guy that wore the toga last Autumn. Tall, thin, dark hair, dark eyes, and totally delectible. Mmmmm. Well, fantasy turned to reality. No, I didn't do him. I wanted to, but he was sooo drunk. I have to admit, he was a lot hotter without clothes than with them.

I was showering off, getting ready to leave, when I saw him in the hot tub. Mmmm. Now there is nothing left to the imagination. That boy is hung, with a capitol HUNG! It was kinda scary, watching the dirty old men sitting there, staring at him, drool dripping off their chins, hands under their towels stroking themselves off. I honestly hoped the hottie had a room to retreat to so that he could get away from the perverts.

I really need to get myself a hot boyfriend. Sucks to be me!

Welcome to the New F*ing Year

So, for the 3rd time (the 2d in two weeks) I've managed to close down the Union Station. Both Howie and Kyle thought I was too drunk to drive home (and they were right), but I managed to convince them that my dead twin Paul was driving. I don't think they believed me, but they didn't fight me on it. However, Howie did ask if I was doing the Gallery Hop on Saturday. I told him I wasn't sure. BUT, I think that is a good sign. If he's asking that, then I stand a chance with him, even if he is dating / fucking Chris. On the flip side, I am sorta kinda getting serious with Gary.

Who is Gary? He is the guy I hooked up with on New Year's Eve, when I wasn't paying attention. Go figure! Just when I was not looking, it happens. I got myself a boyfriend. Everyone says he's hot (I'm still working on that part) and we spent the whole weekend in bed, so there must be some chemistry. Sorry Howie. Sorry Kyle. I found myself a BOYFRIEND! Ahhh, to say that sounds so... normal?

Now, on top of all that, I find out that James, my professor in Kenyon (?), isn't mad at me. I havne't heard from him in so long that I thought I'd pissed him off. Well, he isn't mad at me, so all is good on that situation.

Did anyone ever say too many (potential) boyfriends was too much?

Hmmm, remember when I mentioned I was molto inebriatio? Well, I need to take my meds and get into beds (sorry). Too much of a good thing can be too much.

Bunoa notte, cari miei!