downtown landmines

Watch out if you happen to be walking around downtown Denver this afternoon my friends.

For starters, the D.A.R.E. table is out on the Mall. I had assumed that D.A.R.E. had gone the way of Hypercolor t-shirts and Saved By the Bell except for those super cool people who still wear the t-shirt in an ironic way that had its day back in the 90's, but I was oh-so-wrong. And let me tell you – the D.A.R.E. of 2006 is aggressive. These days D.A.R.E. screams at you to come over to their sad little table. I managed to completely avoid them today on my lunch break, but a few weeks ago I wasn't so lucky when I was walking home and came upon them stationed outside Office Depot.

D.A.R.E. Girl: Hey – come over here!

(I turn up my iPod)

D.A.R.E. Girl: HELLO – sir! Do you have a moment to stop by our table?

Me: No, I couldn't possibly. I actually like to do drugs.

D.A.R.E. Girl: Ha - that's OK! Come on over!

Me: No, seriously, I try to get kids hooked on drugs.

D.A.R.E. Girl: Oh you! Come here silly!!!

OK – I actually didn't say that I get kids hooked on drugs, but I did say the first part and it didn't faze her a bit. Not one bit. Crazy anti-drug bitch.

Today there are also crazed packs of teenagers with wicked-looking forms randomly stopping people on the Mall for god-knows-what reason. I was avoiding the packs like live landmines. I saw one guy trapped in the middle of the Mall curled up on a chair with a dazed look on his face surrounded by five kids. Poor bastard. He never had a chance.
Two girls snagged me in front of Republic Plaza. I pretended to be a busy business executive (hey – its' not a total stretch of the imagination) – I furrowed my brow intensely, glanced at my watch, and barked out "I'm on my way to an important business meeting!"

Heh heh. Burly.

notes from the weekend

At around 8:00 on Friday night I knew I wasn't in the mood to go out. I was just tired and crabby and feeling antisocial, but during lunch that day with my buds we agreed to meet up at a bar on Broadway between 9:00 and 9:30, so I felt obligated to go out for at least a drink. They never showed up. Or called or texted to tell me they weren't going to be showing up. Which did very little to improve my mood.

Luckily, I can always count on B. to meet me for a few hundred drinks at any sort of bar, because he's just fucking cool like that. So I texted him up real nice, and he came and saved me from my loser-ness. I was SO over it at that point though, and when I looked at my watch and saw it was only 11:00 and I felt like I was going to punch someone in the neck any second I figured I better get myself home.

Saturday I tried to lighten up a little bit. I met G. for brunch at Snooze - a cool new breakfast place downtown. I really liked it a lot. Good prices, big mugs of coffee, great mimosas. Afterwards I went and bought some happiness at SuperTarget. I'm always amazed - there are just so many good-looking men there on Saturday afternoon. Gay, straight, whatev. I feel turned-on the whole time I’m there. And slightly flushed from all the low, low prices…

While I was shopping the boy called and asked if I wanted to go to the Eagle with him and a couple friends that night. I was really excited, but also a little apprehensive due to the fact that the Eagle has this whole leather dress-policy thing I'd heard people talk about. You can wear certain things, can't wear other things, etc. And in case you don't know me, I'm not exactly the burly leather type. Well, I like to believe that I'm a little burly, but I'm not really into chains and testicle separators and stuff. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I could maybe get into cock rings.
Maybe.

So I went to meet them and passed dress code – ha – and I actually really liked the place a lot. It's a cool space, everyone is really laid back, and you can actually carry on a conversation without ear-piercing, thumping music drowning everything out. I was feeling happier, I looked semi-burly, and I was with a cute guy who intrigues me and has great conversation skills. Everything was looking up. Then around 1:00 I went to the bathroom, and I was looking in the mirror pushing up my glasses when – SNAP. They completely disintegrated. The left side completely snapped off, loosening the left lens piece, throwing the whole system out of whack. All I could do was stare blankly at the wreckage and try to figure out my next move. Could I possibly do a McGyver fix-up??
It was just so strange. It was the last thing I expected to happen. And I'm useless without my glasses. The boy told me to just go blind, but Matt minus his glasses in a dark club plus guys wandering around in buttless chaps = potential for DISASTER. So I had to leave. I honestly looked like I was a special needs guy - in my big silly boots with crazy broken glasses. Ugh, what a nightmare. So that REALLY put me off my good mood.

I only have one pair of disposable, one-day wear contacts left so I'm wearing my old glasses. Which suck. I look like such a hoser. And of course, every.single.goddamn.person I've come into contact with has had to comment on them.

"Ohh – I love your new glasses!"
"Ohh – you got new glasses!"
"Something looks different – are those new glasses?"
"Hey you – I'm noticing your glasses!"

I am so annoyed by it. I don't want to be wearing these glasses and I don't want everybody to feel the need to say something about my motherfucking old, old, OLD glasses. Just leave it alone bitches!

On the bright side, I bought a new pair yesterday over lunch. Something I probably should have done at least a year ago. Right now the jury is still out on whether it will be possible to temporarily fix my broken ones so I can stop feeling like everyone is staring at me.

matt stops by starbucks on a sleepy friday morning

Matt: May I please get a grande drip with room?

Barista: Oh, um – sorry! Our coffee brewers aren't working this morning so we don't have any regular coffee.
(she makes a pouty face, then brightens)
Can we get you an Americano instead??

Matt: Mmmm – I don't really want an Americano. Let's see…you probably don't have iced coffee brewed either…?

Barista: Yes we do! Do you want a grande iced coffee?!

Matt: Yeah.
(holds out $2, which covers a grande drip.)

Matt: Can I assume I'll get the grande iced coffee for the price of a normal grande coffee, since you didn't have what I wanted?

Barista: No, we don't have the regular coffee today! Sorry!

Matt: Yes – I understand, but since you can't give me the regular coffee I wanted I'm not going to have to pay more for the iced coffee, right?

Barista: OK, your iced coffee is going to be $2.22 with tax!

Matt: Uh-huh, but a grande drip is under $2 with tax. I only brought $2 with me.

(pause)

Barista: I LIKE coffee!

Matt: Ugh. Here's my credit card.

Barista: Alrighty - you have a great day sir, mm-kay?!!

Matt: *sigh*
(slow burn)

The end.

the indestructible budding gay relationship

I have a little crush on someone.
However, I refuse to get my hopes up regarding the situation. I'm going to be as realistic and grounded and as "expect-the-least" as I can be. Not because I'm a total pessimistic asshole (well, sometimes I am), but what's the point in getting your hopes up time after time only to have them repeatedly dashed against the many potential craggy obstacles to gay romance?
(if you're onto my gig, you know what I mean)

Plus, our road to romance has been a little rough so far. I've been aware of him for quite a while, but we were first introduced to each other around six months ago. Then he sent me a random e-vite through connexions for his birthday party last winter. It was a big party at a fabulous gay couples' house packed with gay men. I tried to get his attention and spend some time with him, but didn't really have the chance. He was busy mingling with all his friends, so I entertained myself by enjoying the open bar and the hot bartender.

I can't remember exactly when it happened, but one Sunday night last spring he had been at the beer bust all afternoon and was being silly drunk and asked if he could kiss me and I said go for it. He was definitely in the top 10% of people I've kissed (no comments from the peanut gallery on that one).
But that led to nothing, except for a little chit-chat here and there when we'd see each other out.

But then about a month ago we bumped into each other and hung out on a Friday night, and I gave him a ride home and he invited me in. Before we knew it, it was 5:30 in the morning, and he told me that he always wakes up at 7:00 a.m. no matter what time he goes to bed, so I got the hell out of there. Even though I kind of wanted to stay.

We had a few semi-awkward run-ins over the next couple weeks, but no follow-up. Last Saturday night we started texting back and forth. He was at JR's, but I wasn't in the mood. I told him I was going to the Wrangler.
I don't know why, but I started flirting and getting cozy with some random Army guy.
I don't know why.
Because I can, I guess. Then I felt someone tap my shoulder, I turned around, and it was him. I know we don't owe each other anything, but I felt really guilty. Like a little kid with my hands in the camouflage cookie jar. And to make it worse, he left almost immediately, and then sent me a text telling me I looked really good that night. Ouch.

I've tried to make amends. I've invited him to go out with my Bahamas ladies and I two Fridays from now. And then he was nice enough to offer to make me dinner at his new place sometime.
So maybe we're on the track to something good.
Or maybe I'm crazy.

Is this budding relationship going to boom or bust? It's hard to say.


Anyway, moving on - one of my biggest gross-out pet peeves – maybe THE biggest – is finding a hair in my food. I can't stand it and can rarely bring myself to eat food from the offender ever again. I have already lost Jimmy John's and Sugar Beat to my peeve. And I seriously used to eat at Sugar Beat at least three times a week.
Today I found a short and curly in my Quizno's. So, basically, I'm fucked. I'm running out of places to eat that I enjoy.
Seriously – if Falafel King and Chipotle let me down I MAY starve to death.

But whatev.
I am still in a downright good mood today! I don't know why. If anyone has been waiting to ask me for a favor, today is the day my friends!

PS – That was just an expression. I'd rather not be asked for favors, thank you.

I appreciate your cooperation.

XXOO

the weekend

My parents came into town on Thursday and left Sunday morning. So for four days I was either at work or on the go with the rents. I'm still exhausted.

Thursday night we had dinner at Il Fornaio in LoDo. I had never been there before, and it was really tasty. My mom is so cute – she was convinced our flamingly gay, middle-aged waiter had a crush on her. I didn't have the heart to correct her and tell her he was giving me the old slutty eye. Seriously – every time this guy opened his mouth a purse fell out.

Friday night we went to the Country Dinner Playhouse. OK – if you've never been, and you happen to be in the Denver metro area, you should seriously check it out. It's a trip, I'm telling you. It's this strange mix of down-home quaintness (complete with checkered tablecloths and low, red-tinted lighting), elaborate singing and dancing numbers, and the shittiest buffet this side of the Mississippi. But you can drink a lot and it just gets more and more fun as the night goes on. Especially when it dawns on you that almost everyone there under the age of 50 is a gay guy (well, all three of us who were under 50).
Our waiter was part of the show, so he got us our drinks, then ran off and did some jazz hands, fab-U-lous, Liza-with-a-Z shit, then came back and got us more drinks, and so on. Then the main show started – on this particular night the show was an ode to big band numbers – and I soon realized I had a huge crush one of the performers. According to his bio he's a dancer who moved here from Boston and… I don't know. I think I want to have gay babies with him. So there I am with mom and pop, halfway blitzed on cheap wine, mouth hanging open staring at this CUTIE.
And I don't have anything else to say about that. It was awesome.

Saturday morning we went to Colorado Mills to do some shopping. Every time I picked something up, or even so much as looked at something, my mom had to buy it for me. Now, I'm not complaining, mind you, but what exactly is the age where you should start feeling embarrassed about your parents not allowing you to pay for anything at all? Seriously – they bought all my meals, drinks, everything that happened to enter my field of vision at the mall, we had a little shopping spree at the liquor store, and they even got me a silly oil change!
Like I already said, I'm not complaining but sheesh…freeload much Matt?

That night we went to the Rockies game. I have to say, that was just about as lit as I've been in front of my parents in as long as I can remember. From what I recollect I consumed: seven $6 beers; a bag of sunflower seeds; half a bag of peanuts; a gross hot dog (I MUST have been really drunk to eat that); some nachos; and Dippin' Dots. I'd never had Dippin' Dots before, and I'm afraid to say they were quite disappointing. I'm sorry, but I expected more. Christ – I had the worst gut-rot the next day. After the game I made sure my parents got back to their hotel in one piece, then I walked home up the Mall, and fell onto my couch, too wiped to go out and meet the boys for a late-night drink, even though they kept texting and texting and TEXTING.

I met my parents for breakfast on Sunday morning and then they hit the road. I decided I wanted to be as non-productive with my day as possible, so I started off by going to the park to catch some rays. I ended up bumping into and lying out with this guy I hooked up with a few months ago. We were lying out for about an hour, and we were sweating our asses off because it was hot as a crotch this weekend, so he asked if I wanted to go take a cool shower, and yada yada yada – it was the best shower I've taken in a LONG time. I'm sorry, but if there's anything better than fooling around in a cool shower on a blisteringly hot day with a burly man I don't know what it is.

After that silliness, I had just enough time to run home and change before L. and two of our friends from the Bahamas wedding picked me up to see The Devil Wears Prada. I thought it was great. I mean, I wasn't expecting Citizen Kane or anything. I just had a few good laughs and LOVED Meryl Streep.
Then I grabbed a couple tequila shots at JR's and flirted with all the drunk beer bust boys before hitting the sack nice and early.
Lovely.