Date # 10: Sideburns
We met at Hotel Delmano in Greenpoint. I loved the décor. I had a glass of Cava in an old fashioned champagne glass. The kind Naomi Campell’s mom says the perfect sized breasts fit into.
He shows up, and we got a little nook all to ourselves. Good conversation all around. I was clearly stimulated because, like an ass, I kept interrupting him. Or, perhaps the 3rd glass was impairing my social skills.
At one point he offers to share some ganja with me at his house, conveniently located around the block. Again, after much protesting I give in. What can I say? I go where the drugs are.
Man, I’m easy.
Sparsely decorated apartment. Surfboard mounted on the wall. Collection of delightfully bad movies. 70’s button front shirts in a well organized closet. Lighting he designed himself.
Swoon.
For some reason, I showed him pictures of me from a fetish party from my old latex-garment making job.
Not going to get into too many details of the illegal substances I partook in on a Sunday evening, but it was the grooviest night I ever spent sitting on a white shag carpet.
Not to mention the fantastic mix of music he put on. I’ve never made out to Hungry Like the Wolf before. Actually, don’t think I’ve made out that intensely since my early 20’s.
I should probably not drink on these dates.
Ah screw it. I had fun.
