Tonight was, for the most part, a total blast. Before I get there, though, I have to admit that getting home from a long night and blogging seems a bit out of my ordinary routine, but we will see how this goes. I apologize in advance if none of this makes sense, but I do hope that some of my points are heard because tonight was quite educational. Earlier today, I stayed pretty busy with errands around the city, including picking up dry cleaning and stopping by the bank, as well as having a quick bite to eat with Daniel on his lunch break. The latter part of the afternoon I worked on some work and a presentation I have to give in a little over a week, all the while doing laundry and picking up around the condo. I was busy, to say the least. I had the pugs fed and dinner almost ready when Daniel got home, so all that was left to do was get ready for the night ahead. We had plans to attend a friend’s Pre-Pride Party and needed to get ourselves dolled up for the occasion.
An hour or so after the party started, we arrived. As expected, we were still on the early side of those who ended up coming. Daniel could not stay long because he works early in the morning, but I stayed behind with my friends to enjoy the party and go out afterwards. After Daniel left, I was there on my own and had to make small talk with a lot of people I do not know that well. Thankfully, my friend Jason was there to keep me company, but part of me worried that I was staying around him too much. I am the partnered one, after all, and hopefully he did not need more alone time to socialize without me. Although I am quite the social butterfly in most settings, tonight sort of made me feel more aware of my status as a partnered, in my thirties, educated, have-not-seen-the-gym-in-many-months guy who was there. I fought the feelings and did my best to say hello to those I knew and introduce myself to those I did not, but not enough jello shots or drinks seemed to shake the feelings I was having. Although tonight felt different, I definitely have felt these feelings before and I wonder if this is just all a part of getting older? In your twenties you feel invincible, whereas in your thirties you start to feel invisible. Just typing that scares me, so hopefully I am off base in my thinking and with time I will realize that with age comes wisdom beyond my years.
Speaking of my years, at the bar we all ended up at after my friend’s party I was approached by a guy who knew some of my friends and introduced himself to me. Friendly, attractive, and chatty, we struck up conversation that lead to him guessing my age. Really, I thought, do you actually need to do that? Although he did guess my age below how old I actually am, I thought to myself that there comes a point when guessing someone else’s age really is not ok, even if prompted. I think we all hope that we still look as young as possible and hearing any age around our age only confirms how much we have aged since then. Hearing I look 26, 28, or older only makes me feel old, not young. Or, even worse, having my age guessed higher than my partner who is older than me only further rubs salt in the wound. Of course, I always say thank you when told an age below my current age, but honestly I cannot help but think how much I need to start working out more, looking into Botox, and reading more about beauty and fashion to make myself look younger. I think tonight was a reminder that I do not look 18, 20, or even 22 anymore and either I need to accept that, or start looking for ways to change it. At the present, I know accepting it has been my goal, but starting to change it might be my next goal. We shall see!
If not being perceived young was not enough, being short is a totally different beast. When you are in a club, being short makes it that much harder to get a drink, get noticed, and not get bumped into on the dance floor. I cannot begin to count how many times I was elbowed or otherwise hit while maneuvering through the club and on the dance floor tonight. It really is a tall man’s world and tonight I definitely did not feel very tall. Although I was hit a few times here and there, I also had another interesting thought as I walked out of the club talking with Jason. We were discussing a couple of guys we know who have a lot going for them–from looks to good jobs–and yet they seem like total messes, especially when it comes to doing recreational activities. As I began to talk about this, I came to the realization that both of these guys we were discussing have good jobs and make good money. This made me think about how often success in the gay world is measured by your body and your bank account, which often equates to what parties you go to and what other activities you engage in. I wonder if there is a correlation between socioeconomic status and recreational activities within the gay community, because it seems from my perspective that some of the guys with high paying careers often participate in some of the riskiest behaviors and activities. I am sure this is not only applicable to gay men, but in considering several that I saw tonight it was not hard to draw that conclusion. Maybe I am wrong, or maybe I am right, but either way, if upward mobility equals downward spiral, then please keep me making a modest living. I simply cannot and do not want to end up focused only on the next party, the next high, and the next thrill. I know there is more to life and I want to live to experience it all!