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The Dating Diet

By | 2008-03-13T09:00:00-04:00 March 13th, 2008|Opinions|

By Anthony Paull

Come closer. I have a sweet little secret. I like penis. Oh, wait. That’s not a secret. That came out in kindergarten. The real secret is there’s a new club in the dating world – a rather large, fraternal organization of gay men who fake seeking a mate, only to reveal at a later time, they’re actually on the market for something much more screwed up.
Oh yes, my readers, it’s quite fun dating in the new millennium, especially when your date surprises you with what they’re really looking for in an intimate relationship. Like for example, picture yourself out to dinner with this totally sexy lawyer, and the next thing you know, he’s asking for permission to call you “dada” before wondering if you’ll change his diaper after dessert.
Believe me, stranger things have happened.
I should know….
Once, I had the painful pleasure of going on a first date with a guy who forgot to inform me he’d planned for us to run naked along the beach at the end of the evening. Sure, the idea seemed fresh and sexy at first. That is, until he filled me in on all the details, like the fact he wanted to mount me by the rocks near the jetty while howling at the full moon like a wolf. “But no worries, bro,” he said. “If you let out your inner-werewolf, you’ll be fine. My five-inch silver bullet won’t kill ya.”
“It might…if it were bigger than five inches,” I replied.

Oh, I suppose we all have random stories when it comes to the roles people take when dating. Unfortunately, few of us realize the character’s we’re becoming involved with until it’s too late. Take my fabulous friend Doug, for example. He didn’t realize his last boyfriend had suddenly morphed into his adoptive son until months after they stopped having sex.
It’s a shame, really. You see, Doug thought he’d met the one. His fetching new man shared his quirky sense of humor, and they loved staying home together to do puzzles, watch TV, and eat and eat and eat. The only problem (well, not the only problem) was Doug’s boyfriend would scream each time Doug tried to caress him. “No! Don’t touch me!” he’d yell. And soon, Doug became perplexed. His new love would jump into his bed every night but never allow him a chance to cuddle.
Lucky for this column, Doug would call me during their nightly fights. “He won’t ever let me touch him. Plus, he laughs at me for wearing shoes and carrying a wallet,” Doug admitted. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s too young for me.”
“How young is he?” I asked.
“Young enough to get away with not wearing shoes,” he replied.
It seems Doug had been dating a college boy – not your typical frat guy – but the annoying type who refuses to shower and bitches about people who don’t recycle. He’d make fun of Doug for having a job and keeping a clean house, and in return, Doug would fix him dinner, take him to school, and tell him when it was time to bathe. Their relationship had developed into something completely platonic and ended a few weeks after Doug found his man (or should I say boy?) eating scrambled eggs out of one of his stemless wine glasses.
True, it’s easy to laugh, but haven’t we all been in (pardon the pun) Doug’s shoes before? How many of you have attempted to date someone you felt was an equal, only to find that person wasn’t looking for an equal?
Usually, it takes more than one or two dates to discover your love is actually on a quest for a therapist, a master, a mommy or a daddy. The question is: If you’ve fallen in love, do you play along? Could you be a lover and a parent simultaneously? Would the relationship seem incestuous? If you had a vagina and reproduced, would your offspring have rat hands and webbed-feet? I’m confused! Whatever happened to looking for a partner who can provide plain old-fashioned love, or better yet – mind-numbing sex? These days, it appears more and more gay men expect their lovers to mutate in order to fill the voids plaguing their lives.
I’m no better, except I load my holes with dirt from outside sources. Sitting in traffic, I look into the cars of strangers in search of the face of my deceased mother. I treat friends like family members to dull the pain of not having an accepting father. Is this any better? No. But for me, maintaining a healthy relationship with my boyfriend is hard enough. And though I ask a lot from him, I love him enough to not ask more from him than to be himself.

About the Author:

BTL Staff
Between The Lines has been publishing LGBTQ-related content in Southeast Michigan since the early '90s. This year marks the publication's 27th anniversary.