There is only one thing I detest more than the thing I call my car, which is probably more likely to kill me than a thief breaking into my house. This is a man who over promises and under delivers, and by under delivers, I mean he doesn’t know how to successfully use his penis.
There are three things you must know about Derek before I tell you this story:
- Derek is not Derek’s real name. While I would love to share this story in its full authenticity, I know I’ll run into said Derek or said Derek’s friends, and well, I have to uphold any kind of remaining good reputation I might have after writing this.
- Derek is deathly afraid of commitment
I know the feeling. Courtesy: 1girl5gays, YouTube - Derek gets off to the sound of his Sondheim albums playing in the background.
Derek and I have known each other for almost two years now, but like any dysfunctional gay friendship, we met online and kept our relationship strictly technological (Facebook, texts, phone calls, Skype, etc) until about two months ago when we finally met face-to-face. While I will always promote meeting a boy in person as soon as possible, I ruined a good thing with Derek.
You see, when I spoke to him online or chatted with him on the phone, I didn’t have to take in the smell of Derek’s bad body odor mixed with peppermint candle in his bedroom. No candle can permeate the leftover smells of excessive masturbation and piles of dirty laundry. I didn’t have to incessantly listen to Derek’s poor choice in show tune music; when online, he could just send me a link and I could say “OH THAT WAS GREAT!” five minutes later and make him believe I listened to it. I didn’t have to sit on his twin-sized bed, pretending I’m OK with it being void of any protective sheets. If you want to know what it feels like to worry about catching bed bugs, visit a boy like Derek. And lastly, I didn’t have to travel an hour and a half out of my way to get off with him when we had the convenience of technology. And trust me, it was better on the technological side of things.
Now any normal person would leave right away after being introduced to one or any of these aforementioned attributes, but I justified my staying for two reasons: I spent over an hour on the road to finally meet this boy who I might or might not have a shot with, and I wasn’t about to turn around right away without at least getting my rocks off first. Secondly, dinner was involved, so naturally I stayed.
Now before I give you the wrong impression of Derek (too late?), let me share with you what attracted me to him in the beginning. If you’re familiar with what’s known as the musical theater gay, you know that beyond his love for show tunes, his less than humble need for attention and his addiction to the musicals Wicked or Les Miserables, he’s actually a pretty funny guy – always quick with the tongue but sincerely apologetic if he offends. I think it’s a trait learned from callback excitement and the countless rejection that follows. He’s the epitome of a people pleaser. So through our many types of conversation, Derek was always very attentive and sincerely engaged in our conversations. Obviously he didn’t take these traits as seriously when he failed to clean his bedroom before I came over, or while he sipped his own glass of water after we exploded all over each other and didn’t offer me any of my own … not even a sip of his! But back to why I initially liked Derek.
I, too, have a love for musical theater. I’ve done my fair share of performing, and I still take the cake as the best singer my showerhead has ever seen. I know and sing a good deal of show tunes, and I love the attention a little spotlight in a karaoke bar might give me. But I don’t fit in with the musical theater gays. I still have a sense of shame when I’m in public crowds, deeming me not nearly as brave as they. And while I’m fond of gals like Barbra and Judy, I have a dying love for the ordinary Tina Fey and relate most closely to her infamous character Liz Lemon on NBC’s 30rock. Show me a gay who acts like Liz Lemon, and … no, I’m probably the closest you’ll find.
Derek was different than the typical Broadway bound, Lea Michele humping gay though. He had a sense of quietness about him that I didn’t know whether to feel creeped out about or admire because he might actually be different. He was shy around new people and shy when we hadn’t spoken in a couple months. He didn’t boast about his talents, rather quietly uploaded his videos on YouTube and Facebook asking people to “watch it if they wanted to.” He seemed like a sweetheart.
Then I found out through the course of our friendship that Derek was a sex addict. Remember point number two? If you ever find a guy who’s afraid to commit for no good reason, he’s probably a sex addict.
Seriously, he had accounts on Adam4Adam, Manhunt and any other gay sex profile site you can imagine. I told him if he had a smart phone his dick would probably fall off from a newfound addiction to Grindr.
Our Facebook conversations soon turned from discussions about topics on the History channel and what Idina Menzel was doing these days, to him proposing that we jerk off together on Skype. First, I will never get on Skype to cyber sex it up with a guy unless he’s a long distance boyfriend I haven’t seen in a while. That’s so 2001, anyway. And secondly, I thought why the hell am I suddenly a sex object to Derek and no longer a candidate for funny and intelligent banter? I was truly offended. But like any other guy, I got horny one night when he kept telling me what he wanted to do to me and I gave in. I sexted back.
From then on our relationship became purely physical. We even attempted dating again but got so caught up in what was below each other’s belts, rather than in between one another’s ears, that our conversations always turned to sex. Always. And that’s why I made the trip to see him. I wanted him badly. Plus I had justified our relationship as a “friends with benefits” type of situation, so I also wanted to see what he was like in person. Like I said earlier, he was better on the technological side of things: in conversation, and in sex.
I seriously should have ran for the hills when before taking me to eat, Derek sat down on his bed and quickly checked his Adam4Adam profile. I just thought I’m definitely going to order some damn good food out of this! Food I even had to pay for after spending at least a quarter of a tank in gas. Yeah …
But hey, if it weren’t for Derek, I wouldn’t have found my love for Once Upon a Time, a new show on ABC. We watched it before hooking up, in which Derek just asked me to jerk off so we could watch each other – excuse me? I didn’t come here to pretend we’re video chatting. I guess he just wanted the experience that badly, because guess what? I still don’t jerk off on video. I have better things to do, guys.
So thank you for the dining, where I had to dig for conversation only to listen to you complain about money and your very, very attractive roommate. Thank you Derek for showing me that driving over an hour to see a guy still probably isn’t worth it after knowing him for more than a year. And thank you for never contacting me again after showing me what you might have thought was the time of your life. It really released a heavy burden from my own shoulders. So as you go back to your sex seeking profiles and your shameful excuse of a bed … well, I’ll be on mine watching Once Upon a Time and, of course, wishing you the best.
