A Man's Dog is His Best...Girl?

I missed spending time with Ruby, though was hoping that the more time I spent away from the apartment, perhaps she could draw Chloe out of the Dbag world of the NYC bar scene. Whether gay or straight I could not understand why someone would want to spend every single hour of every single day in those places. And this sentiment is coming from a single woman.

Phil invited me out to Staten Island and I decided that I did owe him a trip to that isolated world, as he did drive around almost every borough when we last spent time together. This would also be a great opportunity to allow Ruby to show Chloe the satisfaction of spending an evening at home with the person who you love, a few DVDs (that are not porn), Wii, and dirty, yummy Chinese food.

Phil met me at the first X1 bus stop after the Verrazano Bridge. We drove to Talay Thai on Hylan Boulevard and had a tasty dinner and great conversation.

After tea and Banana Ma Ma, Phil asked, "Hey, want to come back to my place to watch Last of the Mohicans?"

It seemed that my plans for Ruby were actually playing out on my date, which suited me just fine.

"Yes, sure. I have never seen the film, though it has been on my must see list, for ages", I admitted.

Phil's mother's house was a beautiful, old, side hall colonial. It needed a great deal of work, though it was they type of older home that I loved.

His apartment was located in the back and protected by a huge rottweiler named Kat...the lady of the house. It was not really an apartment, though a few rooms with a bedroom, bathroom, refrigerator, and separate entrance from the main house.

I greeted Kat and love dogs, though this puppy was beyond hyper.

"This", began Phil, "is the woman in my life...well aside from my mom, of course".

Oh no, that was strange. I told myself that I should not be too quick to judge and focused on the enormous bear/beast/dog who was trying to love me a little too much. "She is beautiful", I said. I was not lying, the dog was beautiful, though it seemed that Phil and Kat's relationship was one that was extremely close...and perhaps strange as well. He did treat her like the woman of the house or rather the woman of the extra room behind his mother's house.

Phil, Kat, and I watched the movie from the bed. I don't know if it was nerves, immaturity, or what the deal was, though Phil, the 31 year old, covered my eyes with his hands during the love scenes (which made me wonder what he would do if we watched porn), rather than showing me how talented he could be if he put them to good use.

It was late by the time the movie finished and I wanted to go home as this evening was strange and I needed some time to digest not only the Thai food, though also what exactly was going on in Phil's world. He offered to drive me home to Manhattan, though I declined.

We kissed goodnight and I hopped on the 78 bus to the R train in Bay Ridge. I didn't know what his deal was. I think he liked me and he felt a good deal of responsibility toward his mother, though was obviously immature when it comes to the opposite sex. Were these Mommy issues or was I overreacting?

I walked in the door to Ruby's and my apartment at around 2 am and was met by a flashing television, empty Chinese food containers, and Wii games scattered everywhere. I thought that this could be a very good or bad sign. After rinsing off the rottweiler slobber from my body, I went to bed hoping that my plan to allow the happy couple to create their own world was successful...and that I would not feel so awkward in Phil's world again. --Frankie

A Gay Lifestyle

While Frankie was bathing in the sugary sweet happiness of going on a good date. I was dealing with the bitter sweet reality that Chloe and I were almost exact opposites. But they say opposites attract. Right?

"Why can't you just dress more girly sometimes," Chloe stated as she entered my front door to take me out for drinks.

I was wearing blue jeans and a button down shirt with a tank top under it. "Well, why can't you?"

"Baby, I'm the butch and you are the femme," Chloe started and laughed. She took off her Yankee hat and ran her fingers through her short hair.

"I could be butch," I said.

"No, no. That would be virtually impossible. You're toooooo, you. Besides, you paint your nails," Chloe said.

Now, there are some people who believe that homosexual people live a certain type of "lifestyle." Um, not really in my opinion. How is a  "lifestyle" defined? I've heard about living a wealthy "lifestyle" or a humble "lifestyle", but can you really live a gay one?

Like many other gay writers, I believe the gay lifestyle is a myth that justifies bias and there's not much difference between dating a man or a woman rather than sexual preference, dealing with discrimination and, of course, basic human rights.  In my world, I am just like everyone else. I get up, I take a shower, eat breakfast, go to work and the gym and then later I meet my girlfriend who I am trying to have a relationship with.

On a daily basis there aren't rainbow flags waving, thump-a-thumpa club dancing, drug use, excessive vegetarianism, unshaved legs and armpits, sleeping around, or sexually transmitted diseases. Still, there are some people who think being gay is being those things or at least some. Some times it is about dancing and the thump-a-thump, the temptation and sex, but these desires are the same desires every heterosexual person faces on a daily basis with sexual preference excluded.  Some see "a gay lifestyle" as being different and sinful.  Granted, I listened to plenty of Tegan and Sara and suffered from the remorse of disappointment in myself and others disappointment in me after they found out or I told them I was into women. But I don't celebrate, "being gay every day" or live some lifestyle other than the one I've always had.

Still, there are those homosexuals that still want to live the dream (or horror) of the gay lifestyle, and one of those people, I think, would be Chloe. Chloe took me to Monster for drinks. It's really a guys bar, but she really liked being there for the atmosphere. And to tell you the truth, she got scoped out by the men just as much as she did the women in Henrietta Hudsons. She was often mistaken there for a boy even with her feminine looks. She had kind of a Justin Bieber-type look going on. She loved it because she wasn't in a,"straight bar," like the kind she worked in.

"You should have seen this creep last night," Chloe said to me as she sipped her Corona. "This dude was such a  dick. He spent a good half-an-hour trying to buy this girl a drink, who was with her boyfriend at the time. That is soooo sketchy. The worst part though," she continued. "This girl was actually checking him out and going for the whole act. She was pretty and all, but come on! He's a dog and a skeeve!"

"Kind of like that action that is happening over there?" I asked pointing to the bar where one guy who was holding hands with another was most obviously checking out another guy who was also with what appeared to be his own boyfriend.

"Nah. This wasn't friendly scooping. This was raunchy," Chloe explained. "Anyway, it's just kind of expected that you will be checked out in a gay bar."

"Is it?" I asked. "So you want to be checked out tonight by a bunch of gay boys?"

Chloe laughed. "Oh yes, nothing more gives me pleasure. So which bar do you want to hit tomorrow?"

"It's always bars with you. Isn't it? Can't we see a movie or stay home and play Wii?" I asked.

"But what's the fun there? I have two nights off and I want to be out? Getting my groove on? I'm always on the other side of the bar during the week, so it's nice to finally be able to enjoy myself," Chloe said.

"I hear you, but its expensive going out all the time. Plus, I would rather spend quality time with you than be out in gay bars all the time. It's kind of dull."

"Whatever, Ms. I bumped into Regina Spektor last night at the Bowery Electric. You get to go out and listen to your music. Nah, this is the life. This is what living and being gay is all about. Being here makes me happy. This is our world," Chloe said.

"Chloe, this isn't the world. It's a bar," I said.

"But in this bar," she explained. "We are normal and we don't have to watch every move we make. We can just be ourselves," she said as she put her arm around me and kissed me. - Ruby

How Sweet It Is.

Ruby needed some space to evaluate her relationship with Chloe, therefore I decided to keep out of their way for a bit. We poor girls can't seem catch a romantic break. Phil called me later during the week after Jay's birthday. He came by the apartment to take me out on the following Saturday. We walked one block over to where his classic Mercedes was parked.

Now, I am a huge Yankee fan and wear my pinstripes proudly, though his expression of loyalty seemed a tacky gesture when showcased via a Yankees logo decal...and a Giants logo decal displayed on the rear window his car (welcome back to Staten Island, Frankie!).

"Thanks for coming into Manhattan", I said to him.

"Oh no prob; I don't mind coming into the city. My union hall is downtown", he replied. Driving over to Brooklyn for some pizza from L&B's, Phil and I discussed our careers (he a union dock builder and I a publishing professional working as an assistant in finance to make ends meet), family, and of course life on the island.

"Well I live at home, though in an apartment in the back of my mom's house", Phil informed me.

"Oh well, that is cool, as long as it's your own space", I said, trying to not focus on the fact that he still lived at home at the age of 31.

"Uh, yea, well it works", he explained, "I am trying to save up money during these tough times. Plus I help my ma out with the house. My father isn't around, which is for the best, so ya know, I'm the man of the house and I make sure she is ok."

"That is sweet of you. To take the time and ensure her comfort and security", I said.

I couldn't yet decide if his was endearing or creepy.

"Hey do you like roller coasters?", I asked.

"Yea! I know what you are gonna say! Coney Island?!", asked Phil.

"TOTALLY! I am so happy that they kept it open. Cyclone here we come!", I cheered.

We were having a great time. Our shared love of adrenaline forced us to ride the Cyclone three times...yes, three times.

It was becoming chilly and Phil offered his jacket to me. Multiple sports team decals on luxury autos and Staten Island residency aside, he was extremely sweet. He was like a big teddy bear and we talked for ages after grabbing some ice cream at Williams (yes, it was chilly though how could I pass up this sweet treat?).

As we walked along the boardwalk and returned to the car, his quirky way of expressing his love for the Yankees and his Staten Island accent were not exactly attractive, though they were no longer turn-offs and I started to feel...what is this? I started to like Phil. He was sweet, fun, and seemingly harmless.

He opened my door and wiped away a bit of my soft serve treat from my chin and then kissed me sweetly.

He double parked in front of the apartment building and walked me to the door. We shared another sweet kiss before I headed upstairs.

I walked through the door into a quiet, dark apartment. I did not know if Ruby and Cloe were here. I tried to be quiet as I turned on the late showing of The Soup. It was at this point that I realized that I forgot to return Phil's jacket to him. I instinctively reached in the pocket for my cell phone to call Phil and pulled out our Cyclone tickets. The call could wait. I wanted to savor this sugary feeling of a having a great first date. Romance Brooklyn style...how sweet it is! --Frankie