The Ex-Files: 2009-1970=39?

Picture it. Dallas. 2009.

I was in one of those romantic dry-spells, healing my wounds and preparing to keep on living life. It was by sheer chance that I would bump into a guy online that I had chatted with years prior. Judging by his picture, he was a smoking hot guy -- and British, to boot!

Eventually, we would finally meet at a public place and start the process getting to know more about one another. And when that day came, he showed up in a nice pair of distressed jeans, a tight muscle shirt, and a baseball cap with rough edges. He almost looked like an older version of an Abercrombie and Fitch model. The first words out of his mouth carried the sweet sounds of a British accent, and I immediately felt my knees weaken.

As our date went on, I learned quite a bit about him. He told me he was a 39-year old Flight Attendant for a well-known airline. Eventually, we entered a relationship and I met his mother... and even his ex-boyfriend who had to have been pushing 50 or so. Then, the subtle signs began to appear.

He'd never let me see his passport or any other identification... and when I caught him dyeing his hair one day, my gut told me to ask him what year he was born.

"1970," he answered.
"Damn," I thought to myself.

After that, I must have asked him how old he was at least 5 more times -- and strangely enough, he'd always answer that he was born in 1970 rather than give me his age in years. I just knew he was lying about his age; but other than subtle things about his body that fueled my speculation, I had no hard proof... literally. Soon thereafter, I had my smoking gun that he was not 39 years old at all. In fact, he was 10 years off.... but damned good looking nonetheless.

Although we eventually broke it off, I was left wondering had he told me his real age at the time, would it have made any difference? Was I making a bigger issue out of it than it was? Yeah, I'll put it out there -- trust is a big thing for me, to the point of being an addiction. But there will always be that "what-if" thought in the back of my mind...

Did I potentially pass up a wonderful opportunity because 2009 minus 1970 didn't equal 39?

Only Black Men Need Apply... No Offense!

So, here I am... roasting through another brutal summer in North Texas. As the sun scorches the landscape outside, I've taken refuge within the cool confines of my dwelling -- fighting off sheer boredom and relentless silence.

It wasn't long before I realized it was the perfect day to comb through the cyberstreets and see if there were any cool, single men out there to chit-chat with. As I "window-shopped", I couldn't help notice how many profiles contained phrases like, "Black Man looking for the same..." or "No Blacks or Asians... it's just my preference, no offense".

For some reason, these types of informational nuggets are eyebrow raising as they immediately trigger two stark trains of thought in my mind. Are those who go out of their way to post such distastes revealing racist qualities? Or, is this simply a method of weeding out people we know we won't be attracted to? And to that thought... how do we KNOW we won't be attracted to ALL members of a certain race?

Just browsing at the black-and-white definition of 'racist' in the dictionary (ummm.. no pun intended), if this is an example of being a racist, can we conclude that this individual has a hatred or intolerance for another race? Can we conclude that he/she thinks they are of a superior race due to inherent differences among the various human races? I don't believe so. In some strange way, it's almost like accusing gay men of being sexist because they automatically cross all women off of their dating portfolio.

Now things kind of blur when the aforementioned profiles reveal that he/she is open for something other than a relationship or sex -- like a good old fashioned friendship. Meeting new friends can't hurt, right? So, what if a White male that is truly looking for friendship automatically deletes chat requests from all Black men? Does that make him a racist? Or is he just being dishonest with himself, in that he isn't really looking for friendship?

And who said just women are complex individuals? (Sexist people, probably...)

Who Am I?

Oh, there's nothing like a peaceful, lustful Sunday morning... the Lord's day of rest. Here I am, working intermittently on my first book and browsing through my favorite celebrity pages. Then, I passed this guy up and turned around for another peek. But do you know who he is?

The following is known:

1) He's an American actor, born in 1970.
2) He was badly injured in a 2007 car accident in California.
3) He's a character in one of my favorite TV shows -- "V"

So, what's your guess?

Help, I Can't Find a Man!!

So, the beat goes on here in North Texas. The days are long and hot... unlike most other things during the dog days of summer. And man, did the "dog days" hit with a vengeance.

I spent the evening with one of my sidekicks, chatting over wine and food. We decided this week to stay away from the bars and just kick it at his place. Now I'll be the first to admit that he's quite a looker. Young.. smart.. handsome.. and has two of the most endearing qualities of a promising husband: a car and a job.

But that evening, his usual easy-going, perky attitude turned dark. He is getting fed up with his romantic outlook, and he bitched about not being able to find a man. I looked at him longingly, almost burning a stare through him. I was trying to find just the right way to tell him objectively and with tact. Then, it came to me... he was picky -- very picky -- in fact, almost to the point of disorder. Out of respect for the value of confidentiality, I will call him "Stud".

Dear Stud... every time we go out, you pick up the menu chocked full of delicious entrees and order something unrealistic:

Stud looks at waiter and demands, "Yes, I'd like the Man of the Day, well done but not charred, with exactly 1.2% fat, perfect teeth, a salary in excess of $70K/yr, no bad manners, no snoring, no smoking, works out 4 days a week, 100% honest, and always thinks I'm right. Plus, I don't ever want him to go 'window shopping' and to always sweep me off my feet."

Waiter rolls eyes and responds, "I'm sorry, Sir. We're fresh out of that."

Stud looks at me and hisses, "This is bull shit, Kev. Let's peel out of here."

Then, we bolt the restaurant and the cycle starts all over again. Maybe someday I'll get the courage to straight up tell him what he needs to hear. I admire him for knowing what he wants, but damn, his expectations are high.

Look, if you are in a restaurant of 30 people, and they are all 'ugly' or 'straight'... how long must you go on bitching about not finding a man before you compromise? Either try something on the menu that you'd probably end up loving, or bitch and starve. There are always options, some more logical than others. Stud, I love you, but wake up and smell the roses. You don't have to lower your standards -- just bring them in line with reality around you before you shrivel up, sag southward, and die alone.

Whatever you decide, I'm here as your endearing friend. *Raises glass* ... bottoms up!

Houston, We No Longer Have a Problem

I just want to send a shout out to the city of Houston. 53.6% of you were able to look past Annise Parker's sexual orientation and evaluate her credentials. You are the largest Texas city to ever elect an openly gay mayor. Kudos!

Dallas was so close... maybe next time?

God of Convenience

I hope everyone had a very safe, happy, and cherished Thanksgiving yesterday! Although I was unable to spend it with my family due to work, I'm thankful to be one of 89.8% of Americans that's not padding unemployment statistics right now. Instead, it was a day of thanks, friends, co-workers.... and football!

Last night, my Texas A&M Aggies played against the Texas Longhorns, in which we were heavy underdogs. A rivalry such as this becomes very important when you have a best friend rooting on the other team. We butted heads last night, and for the most part, kept dialogue to a minimum. But, when the Longhorns won a very good, close game, I was irked when their quarterback approached a news reporter and started spouting off about God, and how he's an awesome God, and the Lord Almighty this, that, and the other.

Of course, being deeply religious and proud of a close relationship with God is nothing for me to be hating about. I'm glad that young athletes embrace their religious roots. However, this little episode reinforces why I'm suspicious of athletes and this outpouring of religion on a football field - especially as a sideswipe answer to the reporter's actual question.

You see, last time the Longhorns were at our home field, things didn't end so well for them. They lost to a heavy underdog 38-30, and the Aggies helped sabotage their season. This same quarterback, Colt McCoy, sang a drastically different tune after that loss. There was no awesome God, Allah, Budda, Sheeba, and whoever else roams the divine clouds - only the evil, Satanic claws of defeat, pain, and angst. It was talk about what went wrong... what to improve on... you know, "football talk"... not "God-is-great talk".

What kind of message are we sending when we only show public displays of divine affection when we either win or get something we want? Perhaps if I had seen him on his knees thanking God for not suffering any life-threatening injuries in such a high collision sport, he'd have more credibility in my eyes.

With that said, I wish both sides all the best. There's a lot of talent and leadership that will aid many of these guys in their journey to greatness. But the next time one kneels after a touchdown and blows a kiss to the Heavens, I hope he/she can publicly acknowledge that there are blessings in defeat as well.

Happy Holidays everybody, and make it a great day!

Vacation in Chile

I really didn't know what to expect when I arrived here in Santiago, Chile a few days ago. Of course, the usual questions roamed through my head when visiting foreign locations. How many Black people would I see? What is gay/lesbian life like here?

My intentions were to visit Buenos Aires, Argentina -- a place widely considered to be less conservative than Chile. But, that didn't pan out, so I now take in the surroundings here.

The scene here seems to be quite open in a lot of ways. The pretentiousness is nowhere near levels seen in the states. I don't see men and women walking down the street in super-designer labels, perfect bodies, and perfect hair. When walking down the streets of Santiago, I get the feeling that they are who I see they are as they walk by me.

A transgender walks hand in hand with a young lady. Two lesbians embrace near the Plaza de Armas. Even the Barrio Bellavista (where most Santiago clubs seem to be) blends in with other areas in a weird, can't-put-my-finger-on-it kind of way. Maybe it's the absence of Rainbow flags marking the entrance and exits to the neighborhood, among other things?

I'm definitely heading out to one of their disco clubs tonight... and I was told that things don't really get lit up here until after 1:00AM. I'm looking forward to sampling the gay culture here, and maybe even talking with some of the local gay men and women (through translator, because my Spanish sucks) to learn what it has been, and is like living in Chile.