So, for the passed few weeks, I've been seeing this new guy, who I shall call M, for the purposes of privacy. We seem to have a lot in common, and there's definitely a lot of electricity between us. He's a very attractive, intelligent twenty-eight year-old architect from Baton Rouge. We established early on that we're both unconventional guys. I mean, our first date was at Swinging Richard's, if that says anything about us. Then again, my relationships have always been "progressive" in more ways than one.
It's been almost two years to the day that I've been single, and as thrilled as I am, I know much adjustment will have to occur. For instance, I'm working at the gym tonight, and my flirtatious nature is more prevalent to myself than usual. Not that I'm any more flirty than I usually am, it's just more obvious now that I've been in a relationship for the last twenty-four hours. Also, in the passed two years, I've become the happy bachelor, going out with friends and having fun while not necessarily looking for anyone or anything. I've become quite accustomed to having my own space, in my own bed, in my own decision-making, and especially in going wherever, whenever.
In my passed relationships, and especially in my marriage, I've seen the two components of a relationship more as a single "unit." I would consider the other person when grocery shopping, making plans with others, and deciding on the next city to live in, among other things. So, I know it's going to be like that. But I'm also a different person now. I've been without an alcoholic drink for twenty-seven months next week, so hopefully, I'm less selfish. I can only imagine that a relationship without my drinking would have to be infinitely better than relationships with. I've also done a lot of growing up in the passed two years. Desires to go out all the time because I was afraid I was going to miss something social have become far fewer. And socializing has become a much more productive activity. Now, I like to attend functions rather than see what's going on in the back-room of a dingy club. I guess I've gotten more than a few things out of my system.
Anyway, the real story lies in the activities of this passed weekend. M had been spending the week in Quitman, GA, which is just west of Valdosta, and about eight miles north of the Florida border. He was making some extra cash at his friends' antique store, and he asked me to visit for the weekend. I got off to a late start on Saturday, but I had just bought new tires in preparation, so I was speeding along I-75 at warp speed. I met them at a Mardi-Gras party at this tiny Cajun bar/restaurant in the middle of nowhere a mile north of Florida. The people were very sweet, however, we refrained from any public displays of affection. We smoked, ate, and drank (diet Coke for me), and then we went to this place called, Rascals. For as long as I live, I'll never forget Rascals. The only way I can describe it accurately is it was like a modern-day skinhead party with more hair, less hate, and no gowns. Fortunately, we were travelling in a large group, so we were pretty safe among the white, Baptist, illiterate republicans. As I watched them dance to music I didn't know, I realized that all they had to do was meet us, and they'd be cool with us. They weren't hateful people; they knew what they knew because that's all they know! It was an eye-opening experience.
From there, we went to Charley O's, which was an old, Irish pub with a good band, and a more progressive crowd. They had a couple of hot bartenders who served as very nice eye-candy. We chilled there for a bit, but M & I were getting a little anxious for some "alone time." We took M's friend's house key and headed home. That night, for lack of a better term, M sealed the deal with me. I was ready for a relationship.
The next morning, M's friends took us to this very inexpensive soul food type restaurant. The food was amazing! I had heard of really excellent Southern cooking, and I think this was my first experience of exceptional Southern cooking. We ate like pigs, and then went home and napped. We awoke in a panic when we realized that we were not going to make it back to Atlanta by the beginning of the Oscars. But by that time, nothing else mattered. I wanted M to be my first boyfriend in two years, and in sobriety.
We had separate cars, so we followed each other on the way home. I made sure he knew that we'd stop at least once for coffee. He's well aware, by this time, of my addiction to coffee. But we also stopped to eat at a Hardee's, and as we both got out of our cars, I told him I was ready, and that I wanted him to be my boyfriend. We kissed in the parking lot, not caring about who might see. We then ate our hamburgers and fries with new-found excitement. When we got home, we watched the remainder of the Oscars, and I cried when Sean Penn won for "best actor" for Milk. What a great weekend!
The next few weeks will be interesting to say the least. M has decided to do some vegan cleansing ritual for the next 21 days. He can't smoke or drink, so I told him I might give him some room this week. I've learned from passed experience that a boyfriend without cigarettes is a complete bitch, so until we get together again, I'll be on this side of Atlanta, and M can stay on THAT side!
