It was a simple statement that told the whole story.
“My wife says I need to take you out to dinner tomorrow when you are in town,” said Thumper.
While there had been past signs such as “I couldn’t wait to get rid of him,” this was my clear signal that yes, I am dating a straightish man without a sappy bone in his body.
As I have said before, dating a married bisexual man is different, very enlightening, and quite exciting. Since they come in many varieties and flavors, I was very lucky as my particular bisexual came with all the working parts I wanted in a straightish man – a deep voice, a nice body, great hands, a lovely ass, an incredible bisexual bunny tongue, AND sparkling steel enclosed genitals. Jackpot.
In addition, he is wicked smart, funny, kinky as fuck, a good tipper, and looks great in his porn star sunglasses.
But, when it comes to that sweet, romantic-esque side, well, let’s just say that the rabbit doesn’t earn all of his carrots. It’s not all bad though because it’s what we both signed up for and, as a plus, the good news is that now I finally understand all those Sex in the City episodes about “men”.
In all seriousness, this is meant as a light hearted post after a long conversation with Thumper this morning where I teased him about being grumpy all last week and not even acknowledging that I had arrived at my destination after a 33 hour trip. His response, was, “well, that’s what you get for dating a straightish man. Aaaaand, and you checked in on Facebook so I knew you were alive” and we had a good laugh while I pretended to not notice that I had, once again become the high school girl in this relationship.
It’s funny, because, as you know, I have always dated men and when you are a man who dates other men who also only exclusively date other men, the traditional roles of 1950 dating tends to go out the window. In my youth I dated a giant football player who would bring a flower to every date, just because, and then once dated a stock broker who would say things like “today is the 16th Wednesday we have seen each other in a row”. It’s funny because, in that day at time and most likely even now, those things irritated the shit out of me, but, I also really dug them in some ways. It’s the unexpected and the unconventional that in gay dating is what is interesting because there are no traditional male/female expectations. I am finding now, that even as enlightened as my particular bisexual is, he does have a bit of Ward Cleaver in him and I am learning to just adjust and go with the flow because the lack of sweetness does not indicate a lack of affection, I am learning.
All that to say, this truly is in jest because I know that if I needed him to be that overly caring bunny he would be and I know that if I really needed something he’d jump to do it, but it’s just not the natural side of how our friendship has evolved. In fact, in almost all of my relationships, by that I mean close friendships, I am now and have always been the high school girl because that is just who I am. I pick up random gifts when I travel, I text to say hello, and I leave Axel notes under his pillow when I leave town because I know he will find them at just the right time when he is naked and crawling into bed. That’s just me, and, in reverse, Thumper knew what type of gay he was getting when he signed the boyfriend agreement form too, so he knew he’d have to pretend to care about stupid stories and make phone calls or videos more often. It was and is just what it is.
I make no apologies for being a sappy guy and tend to believe that is who and what my friends expect from me because, I suspect, they might understand that it’s a role I enjoy and one that allows me to escape from being the professional bastard I often have to be, especially when on this side of the world. To his credit, the rabbit understands that when I am here and goes out of his way at times to be more in touch, more understanding about my work, and sympathetic to how it feels to often be the only one on Facebook awake at that particular hour.
I realized this was fully realized on his part when we were comparing calendars and he said “Fuck, you are going to be in Australia when I am in the islands. Shit, you are going to be lonely and out of your element – ha, that will be really funny and shitty for you, huh?”
Again, this is meant as nothing more than a glimpse into our day to day with a side of humor because this doesn’t really bother me, because I wanted a man who was straight enough to show me that side of the world yet who had just enough gay in him to spontaneously break out into Ethel Merman songs every now and then (yes, Thumpie, I just outed you). Plus, as we have discussed for almost half a year now (yes, Thumper, we met in October 2014), our minds and our genitals fit together nicely and that’s all that really matters in the scheme of things.
As I know the question is going to come up, while he and I aren’t dating dating, we kinda sorta are since we do things together for fun and have a good time outside of sex. We discussed this word and could not think of a better word, so dating it is. It really just fits and is much easier than saying “hanging out and spending time together with my friend who is more than a friend but no where near my spouse,” so “dating” is just easier and does, indeed, indicate a constant getting to know each other which we are continually doing.
Finally, since it’s become apparent that these things just don’t happen, let me go on record by closing with the following:
Thumper, when you go to the islands remember it would be nice if you got me a T-shirt from that place we talked about. I wear an XL, like you. Also, when we see each other on the dates that are blocked in your calendar two weeks after your return (please go check now to make sure you blocked them), remember to bring it. I will have something for you as well so start practicing your thankful face now. Drew.