A VWD Straight Up
After exchanging a few emails via a dating website, this nice looking man and I arranged to meet for cocktails. Fifteen minutes past our designated meeting time, I texted him because I couldn’t find him at the bar; he responded that he was mistakenly at the place next door. As I eagerly watched the front door for him to enter, a 5’7” man sashayed in and my gaydar went off in a major way. I recognized his face from his profile photos, but they obviously purposely excluded a full-body shot. When he opened his mouth to say hello, his voice was reminiscent to Nathan Lane’s in The Birdcage. His nicely coiffed hair, waxed eyebrows, and glowing skin didn’t help persuade me much either. My head started reeling and I was trying to quickly figure out what the heck was going on – was I on a hidden camera show?! It was obvious that this man preferred men and I, if you hadn’t guessed, am a woman. My manners trumped common sense and I found myself ordering another beer for myself and a Jack and Diet for him. He then divulged that on his last date the girl questioned his sexual preference within the first 20 minutes. He was telling me that he was shocked and hurt, so of course I had to concur that it was awful and rude.
There were several awkward silences throughout the date and it didn’t help that the bartender was chuckling the whole time. When my date got up to visit the restroom, she and two customers at the bar exclaimed that he was clearly gay. Upon his return, his main topics of conversation included the following: he’s a season pass holder to Disneyland and likes to go down a few times a month to trade collectable pins with the cast members; he collects Star Trek figurines and really thinks people who keep them in their original packaging are lame – they are meant to be taken out and played with; and, he has outfitted his apartment with his female guests in mind – he bought a special shelf with hooks just for their purses.
I wanted the date to end so badly. I kept trying to think of an out, but he kept ordering drinks (for himself) and I was stuck in “be a nice person” mode. After nearly two hours, I announced I needed to be on my way. To my horror, he insisted on walking me to my car. Being that is was a bit chilly outside, he whipped out a bomber jacket that he had cleverly hidden up until this point. In large letters on the back it read, Tales from the Crypt and had some fancily embroidered character on it. On the front, where a name might be, was an assortment of Disney and Star Trek pins. He leaned in for a hug and a kiss, so I gave him a quick side hug and bolted.