Date of Fate

Sometimes you go into the store looking for one thing, and come out with something completely different.

Names have been changed to protect the drunk gay youth.

Name of Date: 1-800-JUST-18
Date #: 1
Looks Like: An All-American Twink.
Age: JUST 18
Occupation: Recent High School Graduate
Where we met: On our first date. It just kinda happened.
What Happened: So I met this random loser at a club one night and we exchanged numbers. For about a week we send flirty texts back and forth like "you think you can handle me?" "oh i know i can" you know. asanine shit like that. things that make me wanna strangle a woodland creature when my phone beeps, but if it gets me closer to some hey-girl-hey... i'll play along.

One night he mentions that he is heading to the club and I should "meet him there." I honestly have nothing else to do and making out on the dance floor sounds like a pretty good option. I mean you guys know I like to keep it classy. So I head over there and he's surrounded by this group of gorgeous girls who are grinding up on him.

Great. The only thing I hate more than the fundamentalist agenda... are ditzy fag hags. Shut up and go blow someone will you? You're only friends with a gay guy so that you have someone who is sluttier than you to compare yourself to. He is only there so that you don't feel like the hot mess you are. Take your skinny jeans and bump-its to the straight bar. Thank you.

So we are all dancing. Or rather I'm trying to dance with him but clueless bitches keep getting in the way. I finally give up and just stop. Thats when 1-800-JUST-18 walks in and struts right up to loser-face and begins dancing with him. Um, excuse me? You invite me out and then grind up all on some other guy. A guy I don't even know? Thanks for showing what a ho-bag you are. So I'm seething and am 20 seconds away from leaving but 1-800-JUST-18 keeps eyeing me. Apparently he has no issues with being second fiddle. Thats when I rang the dinner bell for sloppy seconds.

We begin with some casual convo about who he is, why he is here [Apparently Professor i'm-a-skanky-slut-tease texted every gay guy in his phone and asked them to meet him there that night. We just both fell for the attention. Like most pretty gays.] and other get to know you type things. All yelled over the romantic booming of "Blame It."

Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-a-a-awkward circumstance.

Oh also. He is 18. Like as in just turned. Which is why his name is 1-800-JUST-18. I usually am not a creepy old man. I have no desire to be a "daddy" or "older bro." (ugh why are gay terms familial and incestual? that or named after gross animals "piggy" "bear" etc. can we as a community change this please?) but I want it and he seemed into me. Hey sometimes I'm manipulate younger guys! I wanted to encourage this behavior so I told him to wash of the "under 21" X on his hand in the bathroom so he could order drinks. He did. It worked. I helped the youth of America.

We dance. We grind. We grope. It is the way of the homosexual. Our mating rituals differ slightly from the heterosexual in that both partners may sexily undulate their bodies. This is not preferable with breeders. Little known fact... it is discouraged.

I figure its time to ask the trashiest question ever: "Do you want to get out of here?"

He nods but says that he wants to stay a little bit longer. I'm ok with that because I've at least locked in some makeouts. I'll put up with another 20 minutes of this place for that.

.... Those 20 minutes pass. I ask if he is ready to go yet. He pulls me outside for some air. We sit down at a table and the ringing in my ears is deafening. He is clearly drunk and drenched in sweat and I can tell he has no intention of going anywhere. He answers are short and he doesn't make eye contact. I have blown the easiest thing ever. Taking home a drunk 18 year old? Thats college 101. Thats your midterm. I failed. And I'm 24. I might as well join the color guard.

So after two denials I flat out say: "Ok I'm gonna go. You coming with me or not?" He nods and says goodbye to his friends. Oh. I did something right? Fucking Finally. This night would have been a a huge effing waste of time otherwise. I mean the place had no cover and going home alone ensures no chance of catching a std. who wants a night like that?

We get in my car and I ask "your place or mine?" he says. or rather slurs "wherever we go, i'm gonna spend the night there." Clazzy. Y'all know how I feel about direct bitches. I love it so much. I figure we'll do his place since I don't want vomit on my bed and if he's cray-cray he won't know where I live. When we get there its actually this really nice house that he's sharing with some other college kids. Way to go, twinkie.

We flop down onto his bed and begin talking about things and find out we have a lot in common. This clearly leads to make outs. Which clearly leads to the loss of some clothes. He stops me after a while and its clear he is too tired because he has to work at coldstone the next day. Awwwww. Youngins. We end up going to bed and not much else happens. In the morning I kiss him goodbye and get his number. He was sweet and fun and even though he is 6 years younger and a potential hot mess in bag, I think I like him. I'll play along for another date.

Gained Points for: Paying attention to me

Lost Points for: Not leaving with me the first time.

Mistakes I Made: Not having a contact case/solution in my car for impromptu sleepovers.

Chances for Another Date: Pretty good. I mean he is cute. And made out with me. Thats worth another one right there.

Overall Grade: B+