Sunday, October 2, 2011
I went to dinner with a set of twins, one of whom I have a little bit of a crush on, just because he is awash in sorrow sometimes, and I like to imagine swooping in and nursing him back to happiness. I walked with the twins through the fancy part of the West Village (the twins, too, are fancy ... one does something or the other with some famous fancy brand; the other is a creative director for some fancy clothing shop). Thinking, the whole time, "let me save you! Let me save you!" I asked the twins, slyly, if they ever fooled around a little bit when they were growing up. I mean, I couldn't waste the opportunity to hit on two gay twins! "All the time, Gregory," one of them said. "But you have to pay to sign up for our website to see it." Then I realized that probably every gay asks them that. "Well," I snapped, "just because it has already been said, doesn't mean it's not still funny."
We ended up at a diner, where I discussed my latest "icebreaker" of emailing guys a jpeg of my penis. They seemed very puzzled by this, and inquired whether or not that has ever worked for me. I never know how to answer that question. I mean, it hasn't worked in one sense: no one has ever responded positively, nor let me show them my penis later on, in the flesh. But it has worked in the sense that I am always highly amused by myself when I do it. Of course I then asked the twin I have a little bit of a crush on if he would like to see my jpeg. He replied that he would, and I sent it to him. Then I waited weeks and weeks to see if he would respond positively, but he has not. Nor has he requested anymore succor for his sorrow. Clearly, the jury is still out on the effectiveness of my jpeg. But meanwhile, my amusement level is at an all-time high.