Archive for dating
Day 10,290 – Wednesday – 26 Agrahayana 1930 – 18 Zilhaj 1429 – 17 December 2008
So, the other day, I met up with a gay friend of mine. Nice guy. Very very good looking. Single. And looking. So, if you are interested, drop me a line. He has all of my good qualities, and to top that off he is fair, beautiful, well built and charming. So, a very good catch. Applications are welcome Monday through Friday from 1900 hours to 0900 hours and even during the day timings on the weekend.
So, two young gay guys, both single and looking, in the same car. The discussion on homosexuality was inevitable. We discussed all the different sorts of guys one meets. How society has shaped them. And how they behave.
There is the i-am-pure-top guy who is an absolute dick, extremely desirable, but completely deflated after an initial burst of producing interest in oneself. And yes, if you are not going to give a blow job, and touching cum is disgusting to you, dude, you are str8, so stop fucking guys simply because you could not get a girl (this is not meant to offend guys who are actually gay and have feelings similar to what I have written above). You can blow me or get the fuck out of my bed.
There is the i-am-oh-so-effeminate guy who is an absolute woman, says he is masculine, then plays with his extremely well maintained eye brows and bats his eye lashes at the waiter shamelessly. Ok, so when we were talking on the phone, why the fuck did you have a fake voice? And why the hell did you tell me that everyone tells you that you are so str8 acting. Dont you think I will see through the ten pounds of hair product, obscenely manicured eye brows, incredibly slated gait and demeanour, and the eye lash batting. Oh please! Dont lie to me, and if you did, you had better sleep with the waiter.
There is the i-am-so-fashionably-cool guy who is in showbiz, says he cares about people and is down to earth, but he has the ego the size of my dick when it is erect (read huge) and the huge flowers on his shirts make him look incredibly gay, and yes, everyone knows that you are gay because your clothes scream it out, and to top it off, if you make fun of my French Pronunciations, you are an elitist dick, even when you are mis pronouncing every Urdu word by default because you want to make sure that you dont seem like you know the language spoken in your city by 99.5% of the people.
There is the i-am-so-emotionally-needy guy who would want to talk on the phone all the time and thinks it is romantic and not creepy, but he doesnt realize that there are people who have jobs and lives and will greet you at 7 pm by “did you remember me now after the whole day?”. My reply until now was, I am so sorry, I thought that since we talked on the phone for two hours last night, one hour of which I was begging you to let me go, I can not call you till seven today. My reply, from now onwards is going to be, shut the fuck up and suck my sugar frosted dick, biyatch.
Oh and yes, sorry, but the quality of your skin is not the only good thing about you. Brainless idiot.
We also decided that in spite of these, and oh so many other negative stereotypes there are many good guys out there, we have both been with some.
And then we started discussing which hotel in Karachi is the best. For having sexual trysts in. We did not reach an agreement. I liked Beach Luxury and he liked Hotel Mehran. Oh well! Maybe ill try it next time.
Day 10,152 – Tuesday – 10 Asadha 1930 – 26 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 01 July 2008
Being a gay guy in Pakistan means a lot of things. One of them means that one has to go the extra mile to find other people. Since I am very bad at keeping friendships / acquaintances intact in the gay circle I need to find new people online all the time. There is a very small group of gay people, about four or five, who I am in regular contact with, and recently they have even set me up with a couple of guys. But, suffice to say, the internet is the primary medium of finding sex, lust, affection and love in my life. Could things be geekier. No. Could thing be wierder in the Pakistani environment. Yes. Thankfully for me. Despite be delightfully insane I am only marginally lower than the national average. Good for social life, bad for overly sensitive self elevating ego.
Of course there are so many absolutely interesting things emanating from the whole concept of internet based dating that I would be exceedingly cruel, stupid and boring not to recount some of my favourites.
Of course the most interesting of all is the details. In order of appearance these are; the first question asl (age sex location); the second tbvo (top bottom versatile oral); and the third stats (general idea of visual appearance). Then there is some descriptive discussion and eventually there is the exchanging of the name and email and phone number. Now, the rule is, you can lie about your name (only if you in the closet). That is it. You can not lie about any of the other details. If you are 6’0 high, then you can not tell me 6’2 because when I meet you I am going to fucking see through that. You fucking imbecile. You can not fucking lie about direct physical appearance cues. Moron! So, I get this guy today, he tells me he is 28. Then after we decide on where and when to meet, he asks me “what is your real age?”. I tell him “It is the same as the fake age I gave above, what is your real age?”. It was 30. Idiot. I decided not to suck his dick in the next 20 minutes when we were supposed to get together. And of course, the same goes for penis size. Dude, if it is 6 inches I will know. Dont tell me it is 7.5 inches. Or I will leave you hard and dry, in bed, like I did another jerk. I mean, fucking idiots. Do they think everyone else is blind. And of course the lying only makes it worst when you are discovered.
So, people out there. Please do not lie about things. Because when you do get someone interested in you. It will be worthwhile. And the sex will be, oh so much better!
There was this guy I met a couple of days earlier. Nothing. So, I decided to send him an sms stating, “Dude, lets just not continue this. It would never have worked out in any way”. I get a reply, “Who is this?”. To which, after much relief I replied, “Good. Done!”. And as simply as that, the whole thing is over. I love language.
Oh, Oh, Oh! I met this married guy online. According to him, he is a pure top. Question – What the fuck is a pure top? Is it a bottle headed moron who can not understand that sex is about pleasure? I dont care about the answer, I am fucking him anyways. Also, according to him, he takes a very long time, so I need to be ready to suck for a very long time. Very good. More dick for me! Moron dick that is.
As a matter on enquiry, to ask what my other friends, gay friends, think of the situation. I asked them if it was ok to sleep with a married guy. So, six out of six friends recently polled were of the opinion that it is perfectly ok. There were two basic opinions. The first one was that the management of his marriage and relationships is his problem and his issue and does not concern me. The second one was that married guys are amazing in bed and hence must be allowed to conduct their handywork. Good!
Day 10,102 – Monday – 22 Vaisakh 1930 – 06 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 12 May 2008
What utter, absolute, insane, useless madness! Why the hell do I get a proposition of the softer kind from a woman every fortnight. Why? I shall pen my reply for the coming generations to read. No, I do not want to sleep with you. No, I do not want to fall in love with you. No, I do not want to marry you. And no, I do not want to spend the rest of my life fathering your children. Thank you very much. I would rather have sex with OC from work, if only I had the courage to go upto him and he turns out to be gay, and if he is interested in sex, and if he is interested in me and we are able to find a suitable setting that will allow sex. And now that I have shown you all how seriously I feel about being propositioned by women I think I will still be able to marry a lesbian. Insane, you say? Yes, I reply.
Longish story shortish, doesnt make sense, but I went out for dinner with FF. Now she is a very close friend of a very close friend. And for some reason she thinks that the dinner was not a dinner. She thinks it was a “Dinner Thing”. I will give my listing of engagements below, but till such time, a dinner thing with FF is not a good thing. I can do dinner things with men, with whome there are possibilities, but with women it is just disturbing. As is all the incessant chatter about feelings and emotions. For Goodnesses sake, if I had feelings and emotions I would be menstruating right now.
So, I have no idea what to tell FF. She is expecting something, a call or another dinner or something. And here I am fuck scared of what to do. Maybe I am becoming a normal man, fear of commitment, not calling up women you meet up. Etc. Etc. But, all the same, I cant tell her I am gay, so I need an excuse.
Ladies? Your help required. Which is the best possible excuse?
Another thing, since my engagement has fallen apart and I was uncereminiously dumped by Dr Sahab after having fallen in love with him, women just cant get enough of me. I tell them that even though I didnt like my fiance I was ready to do it for the sake of family honour and she still dumped me, I can see the expression in their eyes stating firmly that my fiance was an idiot and I am God. Of course when I talked about Dr Sahab (converted into a female of course) and the fact that I fell in love with him (her sic?); the eyes, the eyes of the women I tell this to; their eyes become mellow and soft and pink. I can not explain. It is as if in their personal list of human beings I have climbed up twenty billion rungs of the ladder of humanity.
Ah, to be able to manipulate. I love it!
Day 10,094 – Sunday – 14 Vaisakh 1930 – 27 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 04 May 2008
So, basically, after being dumped for not being high on the looks scale, the consequent collapse in self esteem, and the ego shattering grovelling. I am quite over him. Took about twenty to thirty hours with myself. But now it is over. One thing I cant get over is the “you are a nice guy” comment when we broke up. I am not a nice guy. Since he didnt get to read my blog, he didnt know this.
I feel like laughing loudly, violently and in an evil manner. Like they do in the movies.
Had an interesting weekend. Met up with a lot of people. Including Dr Sahab, strictly as a nice guy friend.
I am such an idiot.
If there was an idiot meter. I would have broken it.
Day 10,090 – Wednesday – 10 Vaisakh 1930 – 23 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 30 April 2008
From 00:06 on the 6th of April 2008 to 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. 25 days. 598 hours. 35,895 minutes. An exceptionally beautiful period of my life. Everything, completeness and absolution. Generally, words are too ill designed to define beauty. So is the case here. I can only describe comparable feelings and snippets of thought that will be so personalized that the words that describe a cosmos’ worth of meaning to me would mean nothing to anyone else. So, I will not. Because I can not. If there is anything called love / lust at first sight; this was it. And more. Since the first instant, my beliefs that had taken ages to develop in a different environment, came crashing down. I matured at the rate of months per hour. I was transformed completely. Maybe forever.
I get a message at 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. “yar dont you think we lack in chemistry.i do.it is like we are siblings.have not felt any sparks.it is good that we did not label it.we are better off as friends.what do you think”. Which, as per the norms of the rules of human behaviour and conduct, resulted in an immediate phone call. 11 minutes and 58 seconds later; it was over. It was already too good to be true. I can not have it. Done. Final. Bye. I tried, and also wanted, to spend every moment of my life with him. But. The inevitable but. What beautiful words, if and but. So little, yet so much.
May God save us from unrequited love.
I can still remember the time when he either nodded off or was just lying there. I was wearing my Che Guevara T shirt. He was on my left, cradled in my arms. His nose buried in Che’s beret. I remember thinking at that point in time that I felt so complete that I could do this forever. Later on, when I went home, I sniffed Che’s beret, so I could have the same feeling that he did. And see if he had left any imprint on it. I hate that shirt now.
Humans are such complex creatures. We need to lie. Sugarcoat. Lie. Tell untruths. Use words. Massage egos. Safeguard feelings. And hence, eventually prove to ourselves that since we are not inordinately harsh, in our opinion, on others, we are good people. We rationalize our every action. Since all humans do this, all humans know that the other person is doing this. So, as per the rules of any break up call, I was told that “you are a very nice guy”. Firstly, why the fuck would anyone want to be a nice guy, when they can be marauding barbarians brimming with fulfilled sexual urges. Secondly, I dont understand what the fuck being a nice guy means. Thirdly, why the fuck cant people be original. I mean, sure, you are going to wrench someone’s heart out. But, at least try to be original. It makes for good stories and blog entries after that person has finally gotten over you.
All said and done. He told me multiple times that he didnt feel “the thing” since the beginning. And I was told that this was precisely the reason why I was told very early on not to label this as anything. I did not. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I should know that if I dont label it in congress I should not label it personally. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He took this long because he wanted to ensure that this lack of feeling “the thing” was not due to the issues that he is facing in life. Fair enough. Basically, in plain English, he didnt find me attractive. Period. I mean, sure, I know I am not a good looking guy. And I realize this was not said, but sugarcoated. But, this was definitely not good for my over inflated ego.
After reading all this, I need not have to say this, but, there was no sex in the relationship. There were two occasions when we were alone, and on both occasions I got a bit amorous. Sorry. Horny young man in the presence of possible sex. I need to be forgiven. Please. I realized a couple of days after the second attempt that he did not feel at all attracted to me. He stopped me on both occasions with yet more sugarcoated sentences. Now, I feel so disgusting, so vile, so perverted. I feel like I was conducting rape. I actually shudder when I think of the ramifications of the thing. I just hope I wash myself of this feeling. I dont think most people can understand this, but it was disgusting. I feel so seriously unclean after this experience that it is not easy to explain or write this down.
Guys, and also girls, it doesnt really fucking matter if you have a good personality. It doesnt. It is about the looks. Trust me. For one, I am a guy, and I know this. The ones with the good personality are made friends, and the good looking ones are slept with. Choose your pick. Would you like conversation or sex? I mean, at least for me, I am clear on this. In case you still didnt understand. It is the latter. I have learnt that one should never subordinate sex to any other feelings. I will not do that again.
I was also told that since I am a nice guy he would like to be friends. Sure, it is very easy for you, wrench my heart out and then smile back and want to be friends. I dont know what to do. I dont want to seem weak and vulnerable and sulk. So, I will have to maintain a pretence of friendship. But it is not supposed to be long, he is going to go abroad in a month and a half. I think I can pass that amount of time like this. Hopefully. Fuck. It just feels so fucking painful to just be told sorry good bye all of a fucking sudden. I dont think I have been able to process this. I just started writing as soon as the call was over. Maybe I dont want to deal with this.
There is another thing. I am an idiot. He had been hinting at this for at least a week now. Seems so in retrospect. I just didnt get the hint. I attributed it to something or the other. But the fact of the matter is that I am very very very bad with hints. I keep persisting, until someone tells me in plain English that they are not interesting and that I will not be a part of their life any more. At least I can say that I learnt one thing in this relationship. I should not be making any more effort than the other person and if their interest in me wanes a bit, I should label the relationship as dead. Making an effort on my part and giving the other person the benefit of the doubt is incredibly stupid. It makes things difficult both of myself and the other guy. Lesson learnt. Life will move on.
So, basically, something that I was ready to do anything for. Something that I had invested in emotionally. Something that no words can explain. A happy edge to my life. A beautiful taste to my food. A strong fragrance in my breath. It is over. And all I can do is blog about it.
Yet again, a farewell. One that is so painful to go through, but, a farewell none the less.
PS – Written on Thursday morning. He called me up to meet up with him and a friend last night. Since I had already told him I will do this earlier on in the day, I said yes. I could not say no. It would have been awkward. So, we met up. Incredibly painful. Incredibly. I can not explain. And I seem to have kept up appearances quite reasonably. The moment I got out of the car and said good bye. I knew it. I can not see him again. It is just so fucking painful. I can not see him again.
It is over.
Day 10,080 – Sunday – 31 Chaitra 1930 – 13 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 20 April 2008
I hate my fucking Internet Wallah Guy. Not so much because my internet connection fucking sucks and I havent had a proper internet connection for the past two weeks. But because he is not cute at all and still insists on wearing tight t shirts and ugly shorts. And, although I am definitely not averse to male displays of skin, I would rather not see this guys skin. Unless I am horny. Which, nowadays, I am not.
So, things at work are finally working out well. Quite well. And no trouble on that front. Except for the fact that I have been told that I need to talking as loudly as I do because it disturbs other people. Sure, it is ok for everyone else in the building to scream their lungs out, but I think it is wrong if I do so. And when I say scream, I mean scream! People scream, and so do I. I am not loud goddamnit!!! So shut up!
And on an important note, I have changed three hair styles in the past two weeks. Three. And I dont think I am done. There were days, when I used to have a completely different hairstyle for work and a completely different one for the evening. Does this mean that my hair are wonderful and help me become a better person? Or does this mean that I need to hire a panel of psychologists and psychiatrists who need to study me and then suggest cures? I dont know. It is up to you readers to decide. And, to be honest, all this sudden explosion of typing. Endorphins. From the exercise. I love seratonin and endorphins. Sound like Ancient Turkish Gods. And if they are; I would like to sleep with both of them. Please!
As per earlier promises of sharing of information. My diet and exercise have had an effect. I have lost some weight, and most importantly, I think I am starting to loose inches as well. Which makes my climb the ladder of the sex arena. A very very helpful thought indeed!
And yes, things with Dr Sahib are going quite well.
Day 10,070 – Thursday – 21 Chaitra 1930 – 03 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 10 April 2008
Today can easily be described as a comedy of small and large errors of a non sinister fashion with a dash of incidents that have no effect whatsoever on the comedy of errors.
I got a raise at work. Something like 30%. Which means that not nearly good enough for me to be happy about it. And to think that I still behave like a loyal employee to this organization.
I went for an interview at another organization. I was called up by their HR two weeks ago. The interview went very well. They liked me and called me for another interview with the regional chief in Dubai. That went very well as well. Then four days ago, I get a call from someone in the HR department offering me a job that I had already said in the first interview that I will not be interested in. My belief in the lack of general rudimentary intelligence floundered on the shores of stupidity and idioticness. And they offer me a lower salary than I wanted. Well and good. I said no right there on the phone. Then the next day, I get a call from the HR head, he is offering me the same position and increasing the salary by a small amount. Wow. Wrong again. I do not want a dead end processing job where I can not add any value whatsoever to the organization and in doing so loose my credibility as a capable professional. So I said no. Then, today, they called me over for another meeting. I was expecting they would offer me another position. But, guess what, no no, guess what, no no, guess what, I am not telling you this, you need to guess this, because this is indeed so interesting. Well, they offered me the same position again. And told me that I dont have to reply immediately and that I have to give a reply tomorrow. So, basically, I am going to say no to them. If anything, this episode has further strengthened my resolve to hate stupid and evil people.
And then, me and my friend at work, who are both on a special diet of her design, had lunch together. I was trying to break the tikka piece, and it broke, but I got sprayed with the masala. And since nothing could be done. I had to spend the rest of my day with a huge spray of Tikka Masala on my shirt. Argh! If I werent known as wierd at my place of work, I would definitely not have been able to get away with this.
And of course, I met Doctor Sahab again. He came with a friend of his. Nice guy. Interesting evening. And, for general information, the Shawarma at Damascus is not all that good. And, again, for the same purpose of general information, the Chocolate Silk Pie at Arizone Grill is quite good. Worth the money, to say the least.