He Saw Me As A Flower

Typical to the contemporary dating ‘scene’ I, like many other individuals who have grown up in the era in which cell-phones define our interactions with others, depend upon apps to help me find others. In the cliché fashion of gay dating today, I turn to the infamous Grindr. But, typically petrified by how others are on Grindr, I turn to Scruff; this scene has fostered a community of men who prefer beards, hairy chests, and a tendency to have an attraction for ‘older’ men (old is subjective here; what is old to me may be young to another and vice versa). Below, which was written while coasting on inebriation, is the description of my encounter with a Scruff man who drew me. It is poignant and quick because, at the time of recording, my thoughts were racing at how I just wanted to get to bed before I passed out at my desk. This also could be taken at how the encounter happened very quickly, and it reflects the dissonance that stands between individuals who are meeting up for the first time, and typically just want to hook-up.

 

- He messaged me first, but I ‘woofed’ at him first. (Scruff, sticking to the concept of ‘tribes’ within the gay community, refers to the construct of men (having any source of hair on their body) can be placed into categories of ‘pups’, otters’, or bears. Thus the verb ‘woofing’ refers to finding another individual attractive, and using an action that reflects the categorical structure within the community.)

- The conversation was pleasant, but nothing exciting. He actually seemed a tad dull; he was a barista for Starbucks, but when he wasn’t serving the public their daily dose of caffeine, he was “doing nothing”.

- We exchanged numbers, and the pleasant conversation transferred to the realm of texting.

- I was visiting my parents in the suburbs for the weekend, but we made plans to meet up the night that I came back to the city.

- An hour before we were supposed to meet up, he asked if he could come over to my apartment since he had quit Starbucks that very day, and didn't want to spend a ton of money. So, I agreed to have him over.

- He came to my apartment, and the pleasant conversation that we had over messaging had seem to dissipate; it was uncomfortable and we kept the conversation to superfluous topics like what type of wine we like (which we were pounding back; it was probably a means of trying to make each other more comfortable), the frigid weather, my passion for art history and how he went to an art museum once (people always tend to try to form a connection with me by stating that they saw, for example, a Van Gogh at one time or another.)

- We decided to watch a movie because the conversation had begun to reach an uncomfortable lull, so I put in “Devil Wears Prada” because its one of the only movies that I own that isn't required to have you read subtitles or watch Marina Abramovic discuss her performance art pieces.

- We were both sitting here awkwardly, so what naturally happens in these situations, is we began to make out.

- Our underwear, my blue briefs and his stripped American Eagle boxer birefs, came off during Meryl Streep’s inspiring monologue about Cerulean Blue.

- We were finished by the time Andy began her transformation into a fashionista.

- We started getting dressed, and he asked if he could draw me because he wanted to get back into art and my drive for art history had somehow inspired him. I obliged and he took a photo of me right then and there.

- A week later I received a photo of myself, but as a flower with blue briefs on; he said he liked my plant collection so he saw me as a flower.

- We don’t talk anymore, but thats ok.

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