Woke up, went to work, and had a relatively busy day. Of course, by “relatively busy,” I mean that I was slightly busier than most days, which typically see me performing ridiculous tasks at work in between my obsessive scrolling through Grindr.

Eventually, 6 p.m. rolled around. Although I had a date with Mike – the hockey player from Sudbury – at 8:30 p.m. tonight, I had been successfully convinced by Lucy to stay at work and attend The Clubhouse’s Beer Night – an annual event where eleven different breweries come to the club and sample their beer in an attempt to win a spot on the bar’s tap for the year.

Well, fuck me! I had the best time. In addition to meeting two boys – one of whom was a member and was on Grindr, and another who I can barely remember because I was wasted – I got a great buzz on. While sampling the different beers, I polished off what must have been the equivalent of six tall boys. My favorite kind of boy, FYI.

Beer Night was awesome. Lucy was still on the clock, but I connected with her old roommate who was also attending the event solo. The two of us drank together and swapped bad dating stories as I told her about my upcoming dinner with Mike.

The Grindr guy who I met at the club didn’t look much like his picture, but there was another guy, Lex, who chatted me up for a while. I think I will be seeing more of Lex, as he mentioned that all of his friends were members. I may have been drunk, but I knew that Lex was hitting on me. Actually, I think I’m the only gay employee at The Clubhouse. This could be fun.

Needless to say – mainly because I’ve already said it – I was pretty drunk by 8:30 p.m., which was the time I left The Clubhouse and took the streetcar to my date across town. I knew I was going to be late, so I texted Mike and told him to start drinking.

Full disclaimer: tonight was a weird date.

Fuller disclaimer: the date was probably weird because I was drunk the entire time. I tried to keep it cute, but there was only so much I could do.

When I finally arrived at the restaurant, I saw Mike sitting at a high-rise table with an empty drink. At least the guy knew how to follow instructions. After quickly introducing myself, I escaped to the bathroom. I had to make sure that I looked like an actual human being, despite feeling like a sweaty, greasy streetcar gremlin. After that, I returned to Mike’s table at the front of the restaurant. I wasn’t satisfied with the lighting, or the fact that we would be in plain sight of the entire bar, so I moved us to another table in the back corner of the restaurant. Much better. I needed the lack of lighting to hide my intoxication.

Soon after migrating, the sassiest, most ridiculous waitress came over to take our order. I asked for the drink specials, and was told that there were beer and tequila shots on promotion. Given the fact that I knew Mike would be paying for this meal – he asked me out, and that’s the rule – I ordered both.

Mike and I talked about a lot of different things. Despite being stuck on very stereotypical gay topics, our conversation progressed fairly well. Still, there was only so much I had to say about drag queens. Not to mention the fact that my coming out story is becoming more and more scripted as time goes on.

At a certain point, things were getting a little too personal for my liking. As I grabbed something from my bag, Mike saw my anti-depressant medication bottle and asked me what I was taking. Mike also started blabbering on about his ex-boyfriend, whom he apparently caught cheating on him in bed with another guy. Lovely.

Later, when I told the waitress that it was our first date, she brought us another two tequila shots on the house. Perfect.

Mike was sitting in front of the bar’s TV, and was clearly dying to be asked about the baseball game happening behind me. I had zero interest, but still tried to pretend like I cared. Mike was paying, after all.

We ordered a lot of food, more drinks, and then Mike told the waitress that my birthday was this past week, so she brought over more shots of tequila. Delicious. I wasn’t about to say no – that would have been disrespectful.

I’ll be honest. My memory about this part of the date is a little bit hazy. However, I do remember that Mike kept saying he wanted to drink on a patio after dinner, and for some reason, he needed to go to his hotel room beforehand. I figured that was going to be my hook-up moment.

Mike settled up the bill at the restaurant, and we walked the entire way to his hotel. Probably for the best, considering the amount of alcohol running through my bloodstream. When we arrived at his suite, I escaped into the bathroom again to make sure that I hadn’t reverted back to my gremlin status. Fortunately, I was still looking cute.

After splashing some water on my ass, I came out of the bathroom, expecting Mike to be waiting naked on the bed for me. Wrong. Not only was Mike fully clothed, but he was taking fucking protein supplements!

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I need to take my supplements if I’m going to drink,” Mike responded, as if it were perfectly normal.

I rolled my eyes, and collapsed dramatically on the bed. Mike took his horse pills, then sat down beside me. Despite being in a full spread eagle pose and making out with Mike for about 30 seconds, he completely denied me and insisted that we leave the hotel and go drink on a patio. Seriously? This guy sent me, like, ten nude photos on Grindr a few nights ago. Now, he had me in a hotel room, ready, willing, and able, and he didn’t want me? What was his deal!

Mike desperately wanted to visit O’Grady’s in the Village. I assumed this was due to the fact that O’Grady’s pub is the only place that exists to a gay guy from Northern Ontario. After leaving Mike’s hotel, he asked me if I wanted to walk to the Village. Before I had a chance to answer, he had hailed a cab, taken us to the Village, and paid for everything. Thank God. If Mike made me walk there with my busted foot, we would have arrived tomorrow morning.

When we got to O’Grady’s, Mike told me that we couldn’t sit on the east side of the patio. Why? Apparently, there were too many people he’d dated who were also at the bar. This trend continued throughout the night, as Mike constantly pointed out various people he had been with. It was weird.

When the waiter came by, I asked for the drink specials. Mike ordered himself a beer, and I requested two shots of Jack Daniel’s with a Coke. It was time to double down. I paid for this round.

As the night progressed, so did my level of intoxication. Fortunately, Mike was catching up. We were fine. I didn’t know that it was humanly possible, but we talked about drag queens some more while sipping on our drinks. After Mike insulted my affection for Mariah Carey, we also ended up calling our mutual friend, Dustin Hayes. I believe I told Dustin that Mike was a moron. Lovingly, of course.

As if this ridiculous escapade weren’t already enough, now Mike wanted to go to across the street to Woody’s. What an awful place to go on a first date. As expected, I immediately ran into people I knew and lost track of Mike. But, only after I had a drink in my hand. Mike and I reconvened later, at eight minutes to last call.

“I’m thirsty,” I said.

“Well then, be a gentleman and buy us a drink,” Mike responded.

Suddenly, I wasn’t thirsty anymore.

Mike and I left Woody’s together around 2 a.m. We walked up Church Street, passing my apartment in the process.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I’m walking you home,” Mike said.

We turned around, and walked back to the Witch Cave. I asked Mike if he wanted to come upstairs, and he did. I don’t know why he bothered, though. Once inside my apartment, Mike sat on the edge of my bed with his arms crossed. Even though I was straddling him, Mike wouldn’t make out with me.

What the fuck was going on? This was so fucking stupid. I can’t deal with this crap anymore. I’m tired of taking guys home, only to have them not want anything to do with me between the sheets. I don’t want to be respected. I want to be pounded like a fucking donkey. Fuck me like I know you want to. It can’t be this hard to find a decently attractive guy who wants to have sex with me.

Once Mike finally left my apartment, I received a text message from Gunther – a guy I once slept with. Or, as I like to call them, “Ghosts of Grindr’s Past.” Gunther was clearly fishing for a hook-up. I responded to his text right away, but never received another message. Knowing Gunther, he was probably drunk when he reached out and had since passed out. What a shame. I would have jumped on that boy right away. Damn. After that, I decided it would be best to just go to bed.

Goodnight xo