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I went out for lunch the other day with N, one of my straight male friends. I have enough gays and girls to give me love advice, most of it, “You deserve everything you want,” but sometimes it’s nice to get a straight boy’s point of view, typically, “You’re overreacting, calm the fuck down.” We sat down at Vynl in Hell’s Kitchen, and he made it clear he had no time for any of my...
After two years of City MD visits (when I was still on my parents’ insurance, that is), I decided that I needed to find my own, full-time doctor. I made an appointment with Dr. L, whose office was in Hell’s Kitchen. She was young, she was cute and most importantly she was a woman—I’m not sure why, but I prefer to be treated by a female doctor. Maybe because I feel safe that they know...
After a brief hiatus of not communicating, The Ex Fiancé and I started talking again. Well, texting, anyway. I told him all about Q, who I’d been dating just over two months. He told me about a boy he’d briefly been involved with, but it only ended up lasting a week or two. It was nice, getting to catch up. We were friends again, I told myself. It was OK that I was talking to...
Click here for Part One. Part two: By Christmas, Q and I were inseparable. We became boyfriends pretty much instantly. Maybe it’s crazy to commit to monogamy that early, but so what? I was spending every single night at his apartment. The sex was great. And—best of all—when I was with him, I didn’t think about The Ex Fiancé. The week before Christmas, I saw a GIANT sock monkey at Duane Reade, but decided not...
I spent an hour figuring out what I should wear the The Glam Awards. Obviously, the theme seemed to be “Glam,” so I wanted to look Glamorous. (Capital “G.”) I didn’t have the money for anything new, not after splurging on a matching set of off-white leather pants and jacket. I actually tried that on first, but I looked more “granola Kill Bill” than glamorous nightlife queen. I ended up with all of the classic...
I remember the first time I went to G-Lounge. It was 2012, the year I moved into the city. I showed up here with no money, no job prospects and no friends. I wanted to be a writer: This is where writers come to write, isn’t it? I managed to make one friend via random Facebook friend requests, Paq. Paq had lived here ages, and (unlike all of my other random Facebook friend requests) actually...
I wasn’t into Q when I first met him at XL Lounge. I’d only been in the city for five months: I was still living out my How-To-Marry-a-Millionaire-Marilyn-Monroe Fantasy. Q was attractive, certainly: skin tone a mix between Asian and Hispanic, facial piercings, an adorable smile. But, he wasn’t that much older than me. He was Tom Brookman, not J.D. Hanley! The next week, Q threw a dinner party and invited me. Eligible gay bachelors,...
I am constantly double booking myself. No matter how much I try, I can’t seem to keep my schedule straight. I’m constantly pushing this forward and pushing this back to try and fulfill all the plans I’ve made. This is especially a problem when dating. You’re talking with someone, you’re getting along, they ask “When are you free?” and you say Friday—but you forgot you already had a date with someone else. That’s exactly what...
One evening, after the most excruciating, hungover, eight-hour shift of my life (never drink margaritas when you have to serve tables at 9 in the morning), I finally got home and collapsed into bed, phone in hand. Still feeling every bone in my body ache, I opened up Instagram and started scrolling. Someone uploaded a picture of a townhouse in Brooklyn. Who the hell do I know who can afford a townhouse in Brooklyn? I...
I got in early, maybe 6 or 7 a.m., the taste of stale tequila still on my breath, a sequined top reflecting the morning light. Another one-night stand. Another boy I would not see again—a boy I can’t remember today. I took off all of my clothes to shower, waiting to get in until the water ran hot. Using cheap Duane Reade-brand conditioner through my tangled hair, I thought, as I sometimes do, of The Ex...