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muckefuckYesterday I had tentative plans to have dinner with Big Red (he's in the process of buying a place and could use some hand-holding) but I got hit up by a FB friend who was passing through. He was very gracious about allowing me to cancel because that's the kind of great guy he is.
Plans for the evening started very unpromisingly. Yoga Mohawk only told me he'd be arriving "late afternoon". I gave him some basic information about the CTA and went about my day. As it got close to five and I had heard nothing, I pinged him. He immediately answered a text with a call which is Not Cool in my book, and then didn't pick up when I called back which is Really Not Cool.
Keep in mind that he'd given me no advance warning he was coming and no idea what he'd hoped to do during his one evening here. He finally got back to me while I was waiting for the shuttle (since I didn't want to get on the train without a destination), told me he wanted to explore Old Town, and told me to pick a taqueria there. Old Town is great neighbourhood, but it's not where I pick if I wanted tacos. It's not even in the top ten. But before I could communicate this, he'd picked a place (randomly, I suspected) and a time. Resignedly, I agreed to meet.
I should maybe clarify here that, while he is a genuinely interesting person online, he's also kind of a dick. (In fact, I might've had forewarning of his visit except that I'd snoozed him some weeks ago after a dumb argument about Ariana Grande.) But he's also well-muscled and I kind of wanted to see him naked, so I made a deal with myself: I owe this guy nothing. I have an oral commitment to meet up, but if I'm not feeling it, I can just make my excuses and go home without an ounce of regret.
The menu for the place looked GERDrific, so I stopped at a bagelry on the way and wolfed down a sandwich there, carefully concealing the evidence out of some misplaced notion of propriety. It was, in fact, a place he'd chosen based solely on location and rating. Moreover, he knew less about the city than I'd assume and had no clue we were in the heart of Yuppie Central. "This place has been super gentrified for over 30 years" I told him, not without a little disdain.
But all that said, the place was fine. The server was very helpful, particularly after he revealed a severe onion allergy, and the food was tasty, though eating the beans was something I'd come to regret. (I suspect they were laced with chipotle.) He turned out to be nicer IRL than on the webz. (Yes, I know this is the way to bet, but being wrong about it is heinous.)
He wanted to explore a bit so I suggested we head lakewards. After a few blocks, I realised how close we were to the Midwest Buddhist Temple and plotted an itinerary that would take us past it. He enjoyed it, along with several other architectural gems along the way. Eventually we reached Lincoln Park and I pointed out the Lakefront, but he was underdressed for a Chicago spring and didn't feel a need to reach the beach.
I could tell if he was interested in anything yet so I walked him back to his hotel and contrived to get invited up to the room. (He was staying at the Ohio House Motel, which I didn't realise had been recently renovated, so he basically insisting on giving me a peak inside.) Once in, I asked for advice on ways to strengthen my legs without hurting my back and dialed up the flirting until he finally twigged.
He told me that he had no idea I was "romantically interested", which almost makes me roll my eyes, and that he wasn't up for anything more than cuddling. We did and it was nice. I never did see him naked, but I got to squeeze everything important, so I left content and even managed to catch one of the last express busses north after forgetting where the nearest HoDaR stop was.
Plans for the evening started very unpromisingly. Yoga Mohawk only told me he'd be arriving "late afternoon". I gave him some basic information about the CTA and went about my day. As it got close to five and I had heard nothing, I pinged him. He immediately answered a text with a call which is Not Cool in my book, and then didn't pick up when I called back which is Really Not Cool.
Keep in mind that he'd given me no advance warning he was coming and no idea what he'd hoped to do during his one evening here. He finally got back to me while I was waiting for the shuttle (since I didn't want to get on the train without a destination), told me he wanted to explore Old Town, and told me to pick a taqueria there. Old Town is great neighbourhood, but it's not where I pick if I wanted tacos. It's not even in the top ten. But before I could communicate this, he'd picked a place (randomly, I suspected) and a time. Resignedly, I agreed to meet.
I should maybe clarify here that, while he is a genuinely interesting person online, he's also kind of a dick. (In fact, I might've had forewarning of his visit except that I'd snoozed him some weeks ago after a dumb argument about Ariana Grande.) But he's also well-muscled and I kind of wanted to see him naked, so I made a deal with myself: I owe this guy nothing. I have an oral commitment to meet up, but if I'm not feeling it, I can just make my excuses and go home without an ounce of regret.
The menu for the place looked GERDrific, so I stopped at a bagelry on the way and wolfed down a sandwich there, carefully concealing the evidence out of some misplaced notion of propriety. It was, in fact, a place he'd chosen based solely on location and rating. Moreover, he knew less about the city than I'd assume and had no clue we were in the heart of Yuppie Central. "This place has been super gentrified for over 30 years" I told him, not without a little disdain.
But all that said, the place was fine. The server was very helpful, particularly after he revealed a severe onion allergy, and the food was tasty, though eating the beans was something I'd come to regret. (I suspect they were laced with chipotle.) He turned out to be nicer IRL than on the webz. (Yes, I know this is the way to bet, but being wrong about it is heinous.)
He wanted to explore a bit so I suggested we head lakewards. After a few blocks, I realised how close we were to the Midwest Buddhist Temple and plotted an itinerary that would take us past it. He enjoyed it, along with several other architectural gems along the way. Eventually we reached Lincoln Park and I pointed out the Lakefront, but he was underdressed for a Chicago spring and didn't feel a need to reach the beach.
I could tell if he was interested in anything yet so I walked him back to his hotel and contrived to get invited up to the room. (He was staying at the Ohio House Motel, which I didn't realise had been recently renovated, so he basically insisting on giving me a peak inside.) Once in, I asked for advice on ways to strengthen my legs without hurting my back and dialed up the flirting until he finally twigged.
He told me that he had no idea I was "romantically interested", which almost makes me roll my eyes, and that he wasn't up for anything more than cuddling. We did and it was nice. I never did see him naked, but I got to squeeze everything important, so I left content and even managed to catch one of the last express busses north after forgetting where the nearest HoDaR stop was.