Power Move
There’s a mutual friend of my friends and me that we call
The Bird. The Bird is tall and lanky and doesn’t ever walk anywhere. He doesn’t
perambulate, saunter, or lope – The Bird effing. Struts. The Bird is coming you
get out of the way. Bird will get up in your business and make you regret you
ever got up in his nest.
The other day I was waiting for my friends to eat lunch and
out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of, what I thought, was The
Bird. I was on the street outside the brunch place and I see some strutting out
of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t your average, run-of-the-mill,
I-wish-I-were-straight gay strut, it was full blown bird strut.
I turned and looked down the street to see The Bird, but was
only met with the pensive stare of an unknown homosexual. If you’re not gay,
you don’t know that you can’t look at anyone for more than ½ second without it
being about getting that person in the bed. So Faux Bird and I locked eyes for
a second then I turned away.
Evidently, the game of our flirtation had begun.
My friends texted me so I went inside to the restaurant. The
particular restaurant we were at has a bottomless mimosa deal, so during the
course of the meal, staff brings around pitchers of mimosa to fill everyone up.
We had been eating for about 10 mins and were out of mimosa
when Faux Bird approaches our table. Faux Bird methodically moves around to all
9 of us at the table, but skips my glass. I thought maybe it was an oversight,
so as he began to walk away I waved at him:
“Excuse me, could I…”
Bird had ZERO time for my need for mimosa. He strutted off
and I was left with an empty glass.
My friends started laughing.
“Dude, he totally ignored you on purpose.”
“He blew you off!”
Then I brought up how we had made eye contact outside and so
my girlfriend says:
“He power moved you. He thinks you’re cute. He wanted to
assert his dominance.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he was getting your attention.”
This occurred about the time they brought out the first
course for our brunch. Once again the waiter (not Faux Bird) moved around the
table, dropping plates down.
Except mine. I got no plate.
At this point I’m like DA FUQ! I thought it was just an
oversight, until I got up to the bathroom and Faux Bird smiled at me as I got
in line.
NO.
I mean… all my other friends have stories like:
“Yeah, the Starbucks barrista gives me free coffee.”
OR
“The gay at Macy’s gives me 20% off everything, just
because.”
These are ways to flirt with people. You give them something
extra. You treat them and make them feel special.
Why do I get the flirting where they take stuff away? It was literally when the boy on the
playground throws the ball at the face of the girl he likes.
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!
“You’re so cute I want to make you suffer!”
I was so perturbed at this point that I just started
slugging mimosas. Whenever Faux Bird strutted over, you can bet I was raising
and shaking my glass.
“Whhhuuunn moorrree!”
I’ll show you to show me you think I’m cute by denying me
alcohol.
By the end of the experience Faux Bird wasn’t even looking
at me and I had put back about 7 drinks. I’d say I won that flirting match.
HANDS DOWN.
Masc. 4 Masc. Into Sugar Bush.
As tends to happen, I’ve cycled through a period of not
dating and into a fervent, “Imma Find a Man” Phase.
Imma Find a Man Phase lasts about 2 weeks, but I peaked
pretty hard this time.
I was on a dating app and messaged a picture of a torso. To
be fair, the torso had some interests in its profile– also an eight-pack of
abs.
Generally, I message torsos after a Faux Bird kind of
Brunch, so it doesn’t go that far.
In this particular instance I had just eaten Subway in a
different neighborhood. I had about 15 mins until my bus came, so I got on the
apps and literally just messaged any picture I found attractive. Is a Subway
Meatball Sandwich the equivalent of drunk brunch? Yes.
My evening went on and in the morning I had a message from
The Torso. Not only had Torso messaged me, but he provided a face picture. AND
IT WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FACE!
Also a special bonus, I knew who the guy was. I had seen him
around and knew he was like the cat’s pajamas.
I couldn’t even at this point: a super hot guy had messaged
me back – shared more pictures – and asked how my night was.
SHUT UP!
Turns out, Torso wasn’t much of a conversationalist. We
probably exchanged 20 message, with roughly 79% of them being about a recent
sports injury that Torso had had.
He’s fine.
It happened about 4 weeks ago.
Recovery was slow.
It was really riveting. I, at times, thought I was reading
an excerpt of the DaVinci Code the action was so intense and the emotion so
visceral.
After about 20 messages of saying absolutely nothing, I just
thought I’d just go for it, so I gave him my number and said, “Hey, would love
to meet up if you’re interested.”
Most guys, when they’re not interested, just don’t text you.
That’s totally fine, and by the rules of dating apps, is a pretty standard
rejection.
This guy chose not to reject me, but instead, suggested that
we continue to communicate via the dating app because… I don’t know?
The conversation continued spiral into the most insipid,
banal whirlpool of tedium you can imagine. I mean, I was sparkling. A dramatic
recreation of our messages:
Torso: What do you do?
Me: I work in credit and risk. It’s pretty boring sometimes
but I love my coworkers. How about you?
Torso: I have job X.
Me: Oh, nice! Job X sounds like it’s pretty interesting. Do
you have to travel?
Torso. Yes. Sometimes.
If you’re on the edge of your seat I can totally understand
why. I dragged it on as long as possible because…. If I didn’t mention it,
TORSO WAS REALLY HOT.
I also blatantly lied to Torso to not appear like I was in
love with him and had, I mean maybe, stalked him on Facebook once or twice.
Torso: Do you know Cody? I think I saw you at his party.
Me: Really? No… Cody? Like, I guess, maybe – I think I would
have remembered you. (Me (subtext): I may or may not remember the very first
moment I saw you on the beach 3 summers ago – you were shirtless and had on
short green swimming trunks. Maybe. Like, it’s possible that’s a memory I had
and led me to stalking you on Facebook through our mutual friend network.)
But sadly, a summer fantasy doesn’t always translate to
realty. The “conversation” devolved to the point where I was bored enough for
my responses to evolve into things that I found funny.
What was most funny to me the week of Torso and my torrid
romance was Sugar Bush.
Sugar Bush is a pet squirrel. You have seen her featured on
TLC’s My Strange Addiction. Basically, Sugar Bush’s owner has over 1,000
outfits for the squirrel and dresses her up.
Evidence here:
Well, Sugar Bush became our mascot at work. One of my
coworkers had a squirrel invade their house, so on our chat network at work we
all found pictures of squirrels to send to one another. It turns out searching
“Fancy Squirrel” is basically a direct line to Sugar Bush. It got so intense
during that week that whenever we had something come up that we didn’t want to
do, we would reenact this classic Sugar Bush moment (PAW UP!):
Well, during one of Torso and my glittering conversational
volleys, I sent him a picture of Sugar Bush.
Me: (of course this message was unprompted – Torso gave 0
fuqs about how my day was): Man, my day was boring. The best thing to happen
was my coworker finding this:
Torso: (4 hours later) Lol
At that point I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. I mean… I
should have known earlier, but if you know dating apps, you know that at some
point that hot guy you’re talking to has a 25% chance of hitting a low point
where he will message you and want to hang out. You live for that 25% chance.
Well, after 3 days with no response, Torso official broke up
with me. I mean, don’t worry, after 3
days of no contact I had some wine and sent him this:
Squirrel update:
He didn’t respond… which I can’t believe.
Another day later I made the adult decision to block him on
the app. Not because it made me sad to see him but because I knew it would only
take about 3 drinks for me to start sending him copious modeling shots of Sugar
Bush.
I’m not going to say he was the one that got away, but he
basically is. I’m still hoping we’ll run into each other at some point – maybe
in the clothing section of a squirrel-focused retail store – and our love story
will be consummated.
Sugar Bush and I think there is a chance.
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