Dry Spell

I haven't had sex in a month. Ugh, it hurts just to type it out... Now, I've gone far longer without it mind you but for some reason this month seems to sting a little extra. One old cast of mine had a bunch of post-its on the call board in the hallway with the number of days I had gone without... Obviously I was pretty vocal about it. And when I did a contract in the Mediterranean I went without it for six months while my boyfriend Cole waited for me back in Tennessee and trust me when I say that those drunken nights in Barcelona and Santorini were not always easy to get through. So I did what any normal self-destructive person would do and waited until I got home to cheat on him with a kid from the Hairspray tour and a yokel with braces who ended up looking like a decent guy 3 years later when he got the braces off and lost a few pounds (I'm not mean... just honest). And there have been more than one three month periods of unintentional abstinence, however I honestly think this is the longest I've gone without sex since 2006. Boo.

And in case my story wasn't sad enough, the last time I had sex was a threesome on the 4th of July with a female (yeah, I said it) friend of mine and what I thought was a gay guy. Second vagina I ever touched in my life, the first being my first sexual encounter eleven years ago where I vowed never to touch one again... so much for that. Not sure how it all happened, but needless to say that there was a lot of beer and Jose Cuervo involved. Tania, the female in question (who is also bisexual, as if this this story couldn't get any more twisted), shares a birthday with the country we call the United States and the drinking began in Central Park around 1pm where I kicked things off with a Fourloko from my local deli (thank you Harlem for still selling them) and continued through a trip to Morton Williams where I Jersey Housewives style tried to flip a table of produce because they didn't have any pre-made vegetable platters and on to a rooftop party for fireworks and some drunk old Irish woman's ramblings which I of course loved. We then took Tania to Posh for her 5 free birthday drinks and the rest of the night gets pretty blurry. I just remember lots of shots, a meth-head cocktail waiter, demanding song requests to the DJ ("it's her birthday!!!"), and between the apparently bisexual European guy and the vagina, more flaps of skin than I ever care to deal with ever again in what I can imagine is going to be my short life.

But this "dry spell" is mostly my own fault. In a misconstrued deciphering of my therapists advice, I stopped contacting guys I was interested in to see if they would contact me first... they didn't. On top of that, I didn't go out much through the month of July in an attempt to make what little money I had last longer. But honestly I think June kinda ruined me in the man department. I finally decided that I was ready for a boyfriend again and only met guys who wanted to "hump and dump" me (thank you Salt'n Peppa for that one) with great lines like "I'm not looking for anything serious and you can't spend the night." Not to mention the incredible disappointment of not getting one single hook-up out of Broadway Bares this year, just a lot of guys who like to flirt but in reality wouldn't touch me with a 9-foot pole covered in spermicidal lube. So I guess after multiple drunken fundraisers, 2 whored-out weekends on Fire Island, a reality show blind date (don't worry, that blog is coming after the episode airs), barely surviving pride weekend, two different "shows" (if you catch my drift), a failed attempt at double penetration (which I only recently found out from an audience member at one of the previously mentioned shows), and more cocaine than I've done in the rest of my life combined, I'd say June was crazy enough for me to take July off. But now it's August and I'm ready to get back into the swing of things. I've got my highlighter colored tank, shorty-shorts, and high-tops on, Fourloko in hand and I'm ready for a Sunday-Funday with Ron and if I don't get some ass tonight I'm giving up hope on myself as a gay man. If any of you run into me, would you kindly point me in the direction of the nearest beefy latino muscle jock or face/body/penis-equivalent? I'd really appreciate it, thanks. :)