The Faux Spaniard(1 of 3), by Rock

After class last night, I met up with one of the three guys I've been talking to. We met at a "trendy"ish burger and beer place that I had been wanting to try.

We hit it off fairly well. He's not at hot as 2.0, but he's definitely attractive. We had a nice witty dialogue going as we zoomed through obvious first date questions (Any siblings? What's your favorite Harry Potter?). I made the mistake of ordering the spiciest burger (or anything) that I've ever ordered in my life so I was tearing up as I ate, but we just laughed about that.

A possible red flag: he's never dated anyone for longer than 7 weeks. Not a dealbreaker, but something to be aware of. He also admitted to some self-esteem issues. I don't do well with these. Reassurance is not my strong suit.

It came time to pay the pretty substantial bill, he admitted that he took care of it on his last trip to the bathroom. I feigned frustration for a minute before graciously thanking him and secretly being impressed and super thankful. Rock is still recovering financially from that trip with 2.0.

I promised myself that there would be no second location, but after however many beers, I found myself offering him three options...

1- Say good night and go our separate ways.

2- Find a bar in the area for one more drink.

3- He could come over to my place to watch RuPaul's Drag Race, but we would not be fooling around.

He picked #3. And just like that, my new standards went out the window.

By this time, we were both pretty drunk. Now this guy is Polish and Irish, but was a Spanish major and studied abroad for a year. As he lost sobriety, he started speaking with a Spanish accent, which was kind of cute. Hence his moniker for this blog.

We were in the cab and sparing you the specifics he figured out the timeline for when I broke up with 2.0. He was a little awkward about how soon it was, but I assured him he wasn't a rebound and he remembered that people use OKCupid for lots of things, and he himself had been on many many dates in the past few weeks.

We got back to my place, and I went to turn on the tv and he went to take off my shirt. I wanted to fool around. I wanted my new standards as well. I called him out that I explicitly said I didn't want to do this, he said we could stop. I said we could keep going.

It is what it is. I'm not proud of it. But it's not the biggest of deals. It's not like I rounded home or anything.

We were fooling around and establishing those roles that gays have to establish when they fool around. He said to me, "Not to weird you out, it's really not that big of a deal, but I've never bottomed before. Or else I would want to right now."

Now let's get one thing clear. It was the first night we met. As far as I was concerned, no one was bottoming (and no one did). But that's another possible issue in the future should this progress. That's a big deal for someone.

But the fooling around was good. Actually better than the majority of fooling around with 2.0.

He left this morning. And then I did something that I will possibly regret.

I was supposed to see my favorite singer in the world tomorrow with 2.0. Now I have an extra ticket. My one friend around here that likes him already will be there. My other friends either don't really care for him or don't know who he is. I'm sure Doris would have kept me company, but she's not the biggest fan of him. I sent out a mass text to see if anyone was interested or knew who he was. No one really responded.

So I invited The Faux Spaniard. I told him my cousin bailed on me so I had an extra ticket. So date #2 is much sooner than I wanted it to be (and a little more personal than I wanted it to be: this singer means a lot to me), but que sera sera. At least I have someone to go with me. And out of necessity it will be at least a week until date #3 if he earns it and wants it.

Next week I have dates lined up on Monday and Tuesday with the other two guys that I've been talking to. Just talked to one of them on the phone to make plans. I liked the sound of his voice.