From the category archives:
I’m getting old. So, I have this ritual. Well, ritual is kind of a strong word. More like this thing I do. Whenever I can manage it, after work on Tuesday evenings I go to a bar. Alone. Some people may have an issue with drinking alone, but I’m not one of those people. And [...]
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So I have this regular at work. He’s tall, broad-shouldered (we’re talking Hugh Jackman OH MY GOD I WANT TO WORSHIP EVERY – AND I DO MEAN EVERY – INCH OF YOU build here), outrageously handsome, and one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. Every time he comes into the store he addresses [...]
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I hugged myself as I walked down the street. I even lost myself in my haze of self-pity and shed a few tears on the bus. As I walked the final few blocks home, I felt like I was in one of those early 2000’s teen dramas – you know where the beautiful heroine has just been forced to eat a bit of humble pie and she’s walking down the street, dejected and alone, maybe there’s a little Michelle Branch playing in the background. I thought there was nothing I wanted to do more than lie in bed, cry my eyes out, and go to work the next day secure in the belief that I was meant to be alone and pitiable.
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Picture it: Philadelphia, 2008. A young, impressionable, single (and tolerating it) gay man is on one of the first dates he’s been on since his break-up, and it is going swimmingly. So swimmingly, in fact, that it extended into a two-day date. They had met at a bar in Center City, casual, and populated). They [...]
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(Hah, that randomizer has a sense of humor, I see. I was kinda hoping that this topic would be one of the last – you know, spare myself some embarrassment. But eh, guess it’s good to get it out of the way now.) Being single…yes, I’m single. That was hard. I think the worst part [...]
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And that includes bikes. It was my fault, really. In my overzealousness to keep Pierre perfectly cared for and in prime condition, I accidently let all the air out of his back tire. To top it all off, I didn’t realize until after doing this that my dead Pierre’s tires use a presta valve (instead [...]
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