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I'll Take Bachelor Number...Um...Oh, Forget It.
Written on 2002-11-17, at 12:36 a.m.

dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Bowl Tortelloni Pomadoro

3 Sprites

1 Flourless Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Gelato

1 Cappuccino 


John Live*

Mmm...Gingham shirts....

*Not at all live...


No excuse.

None at all.

Just laziness.

I've been dating.

Well, sort of.

I suppose it could be best described as "dating lite".

"Dating Lite! All the men, half the commitment! "

But as of now. No one.

Why? 

Because no one stimulates me.

Intellectually, that is.

Well, ok...I suppose that it's not entirely their fault.

I have this...problem, see...

I'll start to get to know someone, and just be fascinated for the better part of a week.

And then...nothing. I'll just become bored and disinterested.

Because they'll just start to become another distraction.

I guess I have something akin to attention deficit disorder.

Relationship attention deficit disorder.

RADD.

They really should produce some sort of medication for what I have.

Like Ritalin.

For flighty gay men.

They could call it...

Staywithim.

"Listen, it's not that I don't like you, but there's just a lot that I feel doesn't...*POP*...I'm sorry...what was I saying? Do you want to get away this weekend? Just you and I"

Though I don't blame it fully on my finicky persona.

There have been three in the past two months.

Let's recap.

#1 - The Mormon.

The Mormon I met while plastered at a gay bar, and singing in the piano lounge.

By all accounts, I should stop right there, because anyone with half a brain can see that this scenario wouldn't even outlast Kelly Clarkson's career.

The Mormon seemed nice, while unnaturally tall.

Ok, so six-four.

But that's a lot taller than I.

We hit it off, and things were alright for a short while.

Until he started to compliment me.

Which, isn't bad...except when it's saying things like..."you're so perfect...you're the best thing in this town...I might just have to stay in Orlando now (he's an intern at Disney)...You should be up for sainthood..."

Ok, so he didn't really say the last one...but I felt that it was implied when he glanced at one point.

And, alright...granted...flattery like that can be nice at times...

When it comes after knowing someone for two days...it's a little too Glenn Close for comfort.

And then he started buying me things..."The Sound of Music" on DVD.

"Dropping by" with dinner.

A long-stemmed rose...

"John, you're a heartless bastard...he liked you"

Right...but this is still within four days.

There should be some sort of waiting period on gifts.

They have one for handguns, and they're not nearly as destructive as an ill-placed comment early on in a relationship.

Everyone should be assigned a mediator when they meet someone...

"I really think we have a future together..."

Mediator steps in...

"What he meant to say is...you seem to have an unnatural amount of spinach stuck in your teeth..."

That, I can deal with.

Not this lovey-dovey bullshyte where I become some saint.

Mmm....St. dizboy the Gay.

So, he was sent merrily on his way. 

#2 - The Drunk.

I met the drunk while I was at work at Gap.

Yes, I still work there. 

Now I'm at the incredibly frou-frou Mall At Millenia though.

Anyhow...

I see this boy in my store, and I do a little hard-core flirtation with him.

This is because I've decided to become much more forward with people. 

Which, for me usually involves stumbling over a few words, and then mumbling something about lycra.

Really doesn't reel the boys in.

So I was making some eyes at him, a little physical flirting, and then he was gone.

However....the day after....

I saw him at the very same nightclub as the previous...

Noticing a vicious pattern here?

I spotted him, and then took an hour or so to get my courage up.

Rewrite...

I spotted him, and then had a vodka shooter, and two Long Islands...

Just to, you know...loosen up.

I walked up to him, and said...

"Hi, I just wanted to say hello...I saw you in my store the other day...Gap, that is."

There was a moment or two of recall, where I could tell that he was searching for the distant memory of twenty-four hours ago...

He then opened his mouth to speak...

And the Betty Ford clinic fell out.

Drunk as a leprechaun on Arbor Day...

Or however the saying goes.

And it was to be my luck that he remembered me, and thought that I was just the cutest thing on earth...

And proceeded to tell me that for the whole of the evening, in-between poorly aimed lunges for my lips.

At the end of the evening, he asked for my number.

What he got was the number to his apartment complex.

Vista Way.

407-560-2280

Which he gladly took, oblivious to the sad irony.

Vista Way, in case anyone's keeping track is the housing for...ready?

Disney interns.

Great...next?

#3 - The Mental Giant

This one I met...

Doo doo da doo!!!!!!!!!

Online.

Right, like you haven't.

He seemed nice, the first time we met, we had a few drinks, and talked for hours.

And by talking, of course I mean...

...conversing.

Perverts.

Anyhow, he seemed very nice, and someone I thought I'd get along with.

Older than I, degree, steady job, his own place.

Then, the frustrations started.

He says "Sweet".

A lot.

And he doesn't say it all suave, as should be customary when saying such a ridiculous phrase.

He says it about two octaves higher then his normal register.

(No, Nick...I'm not talking about you...it's cute when you do it.)

"SWEET!"

God, shut up.

Also, he's too agreeable.

Argue with me, I'm not a person who's always right.

Though, I do play one on TV.

I was trying to look past all that...but the thing that I just had to cringe at...the thing that sent me over the edge was this...

We were watching TV one evening, and as I was searching through the on-screen guide, I noticed Alegria was on Starz.

"Aww, I love Alegria" I said.

To which he, in all seriousness, replied...

"Really? I tried it, but I like Claritin better."

I've no hope for my future...

Be well...

(It's good to be back)

-JOHN-


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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