Tag Archives: Online Dating

I don’t know what to give as a title

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It was strange. The restaurant (Wok of Milan) was near his house and, therefore we went there. It was OK but, to my mind, nothing special. Again, I say, if you’re a Chinese restaurant be Chinese, if Japanese, be Japanese but don’t mix and match – it’s just not possible since the food is so different.

However, we chatted about crap. I told him that Rufus had not been so well and that, surprisingly for me, I thought that, perhaps, this was it for him. He wants to come round and see him.

We talked, tentatively at first, about the online thing and about Italian men, in general. Each saying we had ‘interesting’ experiences. He admitted that one should always read the manual (in this case profile) before one ventures forth. But, then, so should I it would seem. I seem to not be able to ‘see’ the photographs properly or, rather, I seem to look at them and think that the person can’t possible look like this and it’s just a bad photo.

But it is not, generally, a bad photo. In fact, if anything, it’s a good photo! So, I should take a look, imagine that they don’t look this good, and go from there.

Anyway, back to V & I.

So we’re chatting and, eventually, he admits that he’s rather smitten with someone. He says that the guy is short and nothing like me. I say that he should go for it and not hold back like he is doing.

It seems strange to me that, after all the time we were together, I don’t feel bad about this, nor like it’s a problem only, if I am honest, slightly jealous that I haven’t found someone before him. But I put that aside, and tell him (and I mean it) that he should not worry about how the guy looks but in how he feels and if he feels like this he shouldn’t waste the chance to be with someone who could be ‘the one’.

We continue this conversation in texts as I go home and as I take the dogs out for their walk.

I get a little fed up with him and, eventually say that he should stop being so stupid.

He accepts this in the way it was intended, i.e. He should just try and see. I hope it works for him (although, obviously, providing that I find someone also) :-) I also add that he shouldn’t be thinking about the fact that the guy isn’t like me and that, in fact, the guy shouldn’t be like me – otherwise it would be me……and we can’t go there again.

Still, it was all very relaxed although I can see myself being his agony aunt, which, given my free time right now (virtually none as you may be able to tell by the blog entries) may be more than a little difficult.

And, then, last night was the sweet guy from Varese.

It’s from a different site, one where they try to match you for compatibility rather than looks or whether you are Top or Bottom or somewhere in between. We are something like 75% compatible. But I should read the manual and, in this case, rather than the small-print, the pictures. OK so a little chubby, not pretty. But the photos have got to be bad ones.

Um, no. The photos were good

He is, actually, a nice guy but I have been with V for 20 odd years. I want the 40-year-old man with the 30-year-old body (and face) – something that Italy seems incapable of providing). We go for a walk along lake Lugano (on the Italian side), stop and have a drink and then go to a pizzeria that he knows.

OK so it is a nice evening but the whole thing is very one-sided in that he is thinking ‘Wow!’ and I am not. How do I know this? Well, a) it is the first thing he says when he meets me and b) I can just tell it doesn’t go away during the evening.

He looks like my M (my first partner of 10 years) only if he were now 60 (even though the guy is supposed to be in his 40s. Actually M won’t look like this. This guy looks like M’s father!

We do kiss but there is no Karl Spark – nor will there ever be. Friends, yes. More, no!

And then, because I had moaned at Gordon (via chat) about Italian men and how difficult it was for me to handle them, I am now preparing to go to his flat as I write this. Gordon has a beautiful body – a 30-year-old body and he’s 40. So far so good. Now, on my new PC (bought today), his face does not look so good but neither does it look so bad. He doesn’t look 40 for certain.

Now I read back, you won’t get the steps between moaning at him and ending up going to his flat but, briefly, it goes like this. I moan. He asks what is wrong with Italian men. I say there’s not enough room to write about it. He says he is listening. I ask are you sure. He says yes. I give him brief idea that these people don’t do what they say (see the previous post) and, anyway, they all carry too much baggage in their heads. He writes a serious response about all this chat stuff being fake but it makes me laugh and I tell him so. Then after a bit more chat I ask him what does it make our chat, real or fake?

He then says we can meet. I say that, for some reason (and I think it is because I am quite scared – he is too beautiful, too perfect) I am not pushing this and chatting is fine but, in any event, we arrange to meet Saturday.

And so, here we are. I am about to leave and go to his place for a glass of wine (having drunk half a bottle already and not really eaten anything). This one actually seems important but will, in all probability, end up like the rest.

However, who’s to know?

Tomorrow is Boris. Coming down from Cantù, near the lakes. He wants to go to Borgo, a bit gay disco held on a Sunday night. I don’t. Other than it is full of gay people, it is Sunday night and I have customers in on Monday! Hmm, we shall see. So, Pietro, if I am less than awake on Monday, you will know why.

Oh, and by the way, another person at work now knows I am gay. It is about time that everyone knew and then I can stop pretending…….

Dreams should remain dreams; All mouth and no trousers; Categories from Top to Bottom

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I have Karl.  In my dreams he is the perfect man – funny, witty, beautiful, clever, etc……

If we were together the world would be perfect.  I wait for him to call me; to be the knight in shining armour, on the white horse, taking me away from all this – to a better life, a perfect life.

It will not happen.  And, even if he was the knight and took me away, it would not be the perfect life and nor, necessarily better.

And he is not the perfect man (he is Italian, after all and, worse, he has more hang-ups than a lot of the others, it seems).

He won’t call and, in a way, it is better like this.  The dream of him being the perfect man can remain forever.  Anyway, I am Top Only, which I will explain later.

And so, the friend I thought had a problem with the sweet guy (who is currently blowing me off, so it’s time for me to move on) did not.  Instead her dream was crashing with the dream being a million times better than the reality.  As I said, if he said ‘I love you’ and you didn’t feel that love that he didn’t mean it and it wasn’t true.  And it wasn’t true.  He said that he loved missing her.  And so, for him too, the dream was what he wanted – the reality being that he no longer had to miss her.

As I’m getting to start the meeting of people, I’m finding them all mouth and no substance (or, all mouth and no trousers as the English expression is).  Well, that’s not entirely true, of course, but a lot of them are like that.

The date for tonight (with Gordon) will, almost inevitably, be cancelled.  I can see it coming like the light of a train coming towards me through the darkest tunnel.  It is coming and unstoppable – or maybe I’m just too cynical.  Yesterday and last night we chatted through the site.  I even said ‘no’ to my piano player from Pavia for tonight on the basis that we would be going out!  Last night everything was fine.  This morning he is not well.  He has a headache!

I know, it may not seem much but now he has gone to work.  Later, sometime this afternoon, the chat will go something like this:-

Him:  My headache is even worse.
Me: I’m really sorry to hear that.
Him:  Yes, I have to go to work too but I will have to go home straight after work so cannot meet you tonight.  I’m sorry.
Me: You’re full of shit, you know that?

Obviously, that last line won’t happen.  Instead I will say something like, no problem, maybe next Wednesday…..

Of course, Friday night will happen.  I know that.  The guy phones me almost every day.  Tomorrow night, with V, will also happen – but, then, he’s not Italian.  If I wanted, the lawyer from Pavia would keep his word.  The tall, dark and handsome guy would keep his word.  Unfortunately, they can only be friends as there is no Karl Spark with them.

Last night, whilst talking to my friend with the shattered dream, I was explaining Top and Bottom.  She didn’t realise what this all meant and I was trying to explain that it wasn’t all about the sexual side but also about character and life choice, etc.

So, if you are interested, I will explain it here.  If you’re not interested, the post has finished.

As with most things in life, there are the extremes and then the shades in between.  In any couple there will be one who is more dominant than the other, the difference between the two being greater or lesser, depending upon the character of the people involved.  This is also true of the gay world too.  And so, not only in a sexual sense, a method has evolved to determine, easily, what role you wish to be.

So we have Top and Bottom.  Top Only, as I am, tends to be someone who wants to make all the decisions and is quite strong and dominant in the relationship.  Bottom Only is someone who doesn’t want to take any decisions and wants to be led through the relationship.  The shades are More Top, Versatile, More Bottom.

Being a Top Only means that, actually, the dream of having my knight in shining armour whisking me away is just that, a dream.  It can never be fulfilled because it is I, in fact, that will play the role of the knight……..which I do when the circumstances are just right……like with sweet guy, who I just want to take in my arms and fight off all the evil people who would harm him.  It is what he would want too (but, I guess, in spite of what he has said, he just doesn’t fancy me enough – ah well).

Of course, the friend wanted to put it into the man/woman role and I permitted her to do that, but it’s not really that easy to do.  We don’t do the man/woman role at all.  We have no rules like that.  It makes a gay man no less a man just because he is More Bottom or Bottom Only and doesn’t mean that he actually takes on a role that you could consider that of a woman – but, if it makes it easier for you to understand it, then so be it.

And so, being a Top Only, I am looking for Bottom Only or More Bottom.  At a push, I will look at Versatile – but the problem there is that we would probably clash too often and I wouldn’t be prepared to allow him to be Top from time to time.

OK, so that’s cleared that up.  Feel free to ask any questions you like.  I will try to answer them.

The Goldfish Bowl

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V and are chatting through the site.  I had changed my profile pictures yesterday.  I explained to V that I seemed to be getting a lot of ‘hits’ – even from people who had seen it before.

V wrote: I think when you change your main picture people think they haven’t seen you before…… we live in a world of goldfish.

I just loved that.  It made me laugh out loud!  I remember, it’s one of the reasons I loved him, for gems like this and the ability he has to make me laugh.

The meaning of X; why do I put myself in these situations?

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When I was a kid, we used to write cards (birthday cards and the like) to grandparents, sisters, brothers, etc.  Always it ended with ‘Lots of love X’.  If you were really generous it would be even more ‘x’s.

I had always assumed, like one does, that everyone did this.  Here, quite often, people end with ‘baci’.

More recently, I have stopped using baci but have been putting ‘x’.  It seems that things are not (and it has taken me about 45 years to find this out) quite as I thought and that not everyone uses an x in place of baci.

Not only don’t they use it but they don’t recognise it!  Who knew?

So last night, on the phone, I was asked why the ‘x’ and was it like a signature or something.  So I explained and, in the process, learnt yet another thing that separates us from the Italians, culturally.

So, catching up with friends, as I was last night.  Telling them of the guys and why I was dropping some of them and why others were working (maybe….early days yet).  Now, I spoke to Best Mate the other night.  Told her about the sweet guy.  She was fine.  Another friend was fine…..one friend was not….

It got me to thinking, this is my problem really.  I put myself in situations that other people find hard to take.  But, and here is where the real problem lies, it is my opinion that it is their problem and not mine.  I don’t do the compromise very well.

And so, should I take up with the sweet guy, then I am sure to lose some friends along the way; people who remain ignorant; people who, because it does not seem to have touched them, still think of HIV as something that is a gay plague and that it is the fault of the person who has it and that it can be transferred just by touching, or something equally preposterous!

That’s a shame because, other than this one thing, they are nice people – but I know that I won’t compromise on it.  And that bit is my problem too.

In the meantime, my date for tomorrow (Gordon) returned to Milan from a weekend away.  He is feeling tired.  Hmmm.  This could be the prelude to bailing out for tomorrow night………shame because I found that I had missed our chats online.  Still, it will all be for the best, whatever.  Also, my piano player from Pavia is saying that Sunday will be difficult.  Hmmm.

Still, I still have Varese on Friday night.  And, tonight, hopefully I will see my friend A who I have not seen for a little while…..which will be nice.

A meeting with V

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We have arranged to meet on Thursday for a pizza.

Last night was the theatre.  Actually it was nowhere near as bad as I thought it might be – only being bad because I thought I would not be able to follow the play at all.  In fact it was well done, although I would have preferred it in English since I didn’t get all the sense of it.  However, I did understand some of the jokes and that was good.

We met first for an aperitivo in the theatre.  Nice food and we talked.  It became clear to me that, although he is a nice guy, he is not for me, in terms of a relationship.  He has too many other people in his life that would take precedence……..and, if I’m going to have a relationship with someone then I want to be No. 1 – not further down the list behind a 9 year-old daughter, an ex ‘love of his life’, etc.

Anyway, he’s not really so attractive even if he is rich.  Rich is not everything – in fact, although it would be very nice, it’s decidedly nothing at all – for me, anyway.  Not all my friends think like this but everyone must choose what is important for them.

Beforehand I had rung the piano-player, who also lives in Pavia.  I was due to be there, rather than writing this from home.  The conversation was all Italian.  But he thinks (as a lot of people seem to) that I can understand it perfectly.  Boh!  Anyway, he has the ‘flu so it was cancelled.

I contacted my sweet guy but he was busy today.  I still can’t get him out of my head.

Later……he is online.  Against his name it has the status of ‘Date’ which should mean he is looking for a date.  I send him a message saying that he should know that I would go on a date with him.

He tells me he is working, which I know.  I reply that, if he would like, we could go to a Tuscan restaurant that I have been told is good, nearby.

He says yes, with a grin.  Maybe, perhaps, this will be good.  He wants to be romanced and seduced and I am good at that.  My problem will be holding back and not pushing it too far.

I am just browsing the people online.  I see one profile.  It is V.  He is lying about his age, shaving over 5 years off his age.  I don’t blame him since everyone is so hung up about the age of the person (including me).  I wouldn’t look at anyone my age…even if they did look good.  After all, I want someone younger and, as I was explaining the other night, the perfect man would be in his early forties with the body of a 30-year-old!

I then see that V has looked at my profile.  So, I think, it would be rude not to send a message.

I say hello and ask him how he is.  He tells me he’s fine and asks how I am.  I say I am good. He asks what I am doing.  Am I browsing.  I say that I was supposed to be in Pavia but it was cancelled and then start my normal complaints about Italian men.  He agrees and say that if they weren’t so good looking they’d all be single.  I say they aren’t all so good looking, etc.  I also mention that an ex-colleague is coming to Milan on such-and-such date and would he like to meet up with him.

He asks if the message was meant for him.  I realise that, perhaps, he doesn’t know who he is talking to.

I give the guy’s last name.

He asks if I am me (if you see what I mean).

I reply that yes, I am me and thought he would recognise the jeans!  (Since there is no face picture).

From there we have quite a funny conversation.  At one point he tells me that he was about to ask me out on a date.  Now that would have been funny.  I tell him that, if he had done that, I would have suggested Thursday.  Then we started talking about domestic stuff……Could I have some sunglasses, he has some cushion covers to give me, etc., etc.

I don’t know why, but it was a really pleasant conversation that we had.  It seemed so much easier over the chat and no pressure or crap.

Of course, I thought that, sooner or late, we would meet up online and I was a little worried.  However, it was very nice in the end.  I wonder too if, at some point, I will meet other people that I know……?

I wonder, if V hadn’t been my partner for all those years and I had found him here now, would I be going out on a date on Thursday as John (my onscreen name)?  Interesting thought, isn’t it?

Out on the scene again; is it the Karl Spark?

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I felt I should amend the previous post in case it gave the wrong impression……so I did.

Last night was the Mexican meal with the sweet (but far too effeminate) Stephen.  Nice kid though.  A shoe designer.  Interesting conversation, pretty and slim – just right for me in some ways but a little young and just a little to out-going.  After the meal he took me to some bars where we met many of his friends.

It was very nice for a change and his friends were nice.  I was, of course, new to the ‘scene’ so attracted interest but, although it was all very pleasant, I remembered why I don’t really like this way of spending your Friday and Saturday nights.  Still, I might go do it again with him as he is very popular and so, who knows who I might meet – except most of them aren’t ‘my sort’ at all.  I’m just such a ‘straight’ guy trapped in a gay world.  Must be the same sort of thing for effeminate but straight guys!  It makes me feel like I really don’t belong.

Still, tonight is the theatre with the nice guy from Pavia.  This, I know will be fun evening and then we shall go home (to our separate houses) as he is in for the long-term and is wooing me more than anyone else at the moment.

Of course, I haven’t really mentioned one guy that, perhaps I should.  He is very, very sweet.  Not effeminate, not my type  – but I find myself very attracted to him.  Not sure whether this is the Karl Spark but it’s pretty damned close.

Just a couple of things that are and, at the same time, are not important.  One is that he is definitely not the dominant type and, so, I’m not sure that he is strong enough – I mean to say, I sometimes need someone who is equal to me and will ‘fight’ with me.  He may be just too much of a pushover.

Oh, yes, and the other thing is that he is HIV+.  Now, before you go giving me advice and all that, bear in mind that I do know about this and I know we would have to be very careful but, really, it didn’t make any difference as to how I feel about him.  He was surprised at my reaction but I look at it this way, he’s nice, we are attracted to each other and, if I’m honest, the cigarettes are probably going to kill me first before anything else gets a look in.  And, if we’re careful, it shouldn’t be a problem.

He is a bit reticent though and I’m not sure why.  He’s also seriously Italian with all of the baggage that that entails (*sigh*).  And, he doesn’t smoke or drink, was a vegetarian (so is fussy about his food) – you know, all the things that would mean, oh, I don’t know…….

I need to see him again to see if I still feel the same way…..and if he does too, of course………

Planet Italy – The Dating Bible

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It’s official.  Italian men fall into one category.  Seriously screwed up!  Unless I am just being unlucky, of course!

This is how things are in my world:

1. Meet guy.
2. Find said guy attractive.
3. Decide to take it further.
4. Go to bed (optional here or later).
5. Have sex (optional here or later).
6. Talk some more.
7. Find you have things in common and you really like said guy or not.
8. Decide to see each other again and go through same stuff, (probably, hopefully, starting from 4).
9. After a while, if you both want it, make situation more permanent.

That’s how it’s supposed to work.  Of course, upon mutual agreement (or, perhaps, without mutual agreement) it can be stopped and taken no further at any stage.

Instead, on Planet Italy (which is NOT my world, even if I do live here) the Italian man seems to work like this:

1. Meet guy.
2. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
3. Find said guy attractive.
4. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else..
5. Decide to take it further.
6. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
7. Go to bed if your worries haven’t already screwed it up in your head.
8. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
9. Have sex if you overcome your worries enough or just talk about it or try and avoid it.  In any case, probably don’t have sex for all the worrying about whether this is long-term or not/worrying about whether this is what you really want/worrying about something else.
10. Talk some more – probably about how it may or may not be in the future; how everything is not straightforward how worrying about this stuff is one of the things that you cannot help.
11. Don’t bother finding out you have things in common because you’re too bloody busy talking about the worries.
12. Decide to see each other again (although why effing bother, I say).
13. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
14. Go through all this crap again.

OK, so life is not perfect but we only have this moment to enjoy it since in one more second/one hour/one day/one week/one month/one year/one lifetime………..it may all be over for some reason.

Live life now!

Of course, perhaps all these Italian men are right and it is I who is actually screwed up?

OK, so last night didn’t go as expected.  However, one thing did happen that was really good and for which I am over the moon (and may explain some other time….if it continues so good).

An almost full dance card

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Well, we’re moving forward and, I have to admit, this is great fun.  At the moment, I can’t take it too seriously and nor do I want to.  I know that it’s all about finding the next ‘partner’ but I know I must keep hold of myself and not just jump into the first relationship available.  This time it’s different.

And there are, at the end of it all, many, many men out there of all shapes and sizes.  None of them perfect but then, nor am I.  All of them (the ones I am in contact with) have something to offer – and the ones I have met are nice guys, some more than others, of course.

Last night it was the turn of Trevor (not Robert as I thought in my last post).  Nice guy about 8 years younger than me.  We had chatted a lot on the phone and on the chat.  He seemed funny, witty, intelligent and a great sense of humour, so similar to my own.

We met in town (he lives in a city about an hour away) and went for a pizza.  The talk was easy, interesting – we were finding out about each other – in the process we found many, many things in common.  It was comfortable, for certain.  We talked and talked.  He told me about his marriage (they are now divorced) and his young daughter and what happened and why he got married in the first place…….

It’s a strange place, Italy.  And the family thing (and particularly the mother attachment) is something that, quite frankly, no one comes close to understanding – and trust me, I know people who were/are really close to their mothers in the UK – but it ain’t nothing like this.

So Trevor goes to his parents for lunch every day.  When he was married and lived in the flat above his parents-in-law, they would have dinner with the parents-in-law.  When he stopped them doing that, his mother-in-law would, instead, prepare food and bring it up to their flat so they could have dinner on their own!

Most Italians phone their parents once per day.  He phones his parents (and, remember he has lunch with them during the week) 3 times a day!!!!

Anyway, I know this is what it’s like and if I do end up with an Italian, I have to accept this stuff.

But, I don’t know if Trevor and I will end up as anything or nothing or friends.  We are going to the theatre on Saturday night (he has season tickets) to see some comedy called ‘The Kitchen’ although it will be in Italian which means I will be lucky to get half of it.  Still, it’s nice and, again, like Dennis, it’s a proper date.

But, right now, it’s getting a little full.  My dance card is almost completely full between now and this time next week.  When I started this, I didn’t expect it to be like this but it’s good and fun and I get to meet some interesting people and, anyway, it’s really good practice!

Men are a problem – can’t live with them, can’t live without them!

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So, this post may be a little shocking for some of you, in which case, please don’t read it – but this is the ‘gay scene’ and it is, shall we say, lacking in some morals.  I know, this will probably go to confirm that we are all bad people – but, and this is my opinion, if you (that is the general populace) hadn’t made it all illegal for so long, I really believe it wouldn’t be like this………

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The side-effects could be tiring….

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There are side-effects to this dating/sex thing which was not entirely expected by me (although, if I had really thought about it, it would have been obvious).

One thing is that the house must be clean for I don’t know who may be coming round at short notice.  I can make the excuse that the house is a mess once or, maybe, twice – but not always.

So, as a result, I now have cleaners coming in tomorrow to fix the place up.  And then they’re (hopefully) going to come in twice a week to keep it that way.  It should be every day but there’s no way I can afford that.  It’s the dogs, you see.  To keep it really clean, the hoover should come out and the floors then mopped, as I did when I was off when we first had Dino.

So that’s one thing.  The other being that I really need to get my act into gear and get some storage .  I cannot have ‘people’ here with the place looking as if I moved in yesterday.  For me, of course, it’s OK but from an outside eye it’s not!

Anyway, next weekend, I’ve agreed with my mate S, we’ll go and get the table (so, at least I can do dinners) and, maybe, we can call in at an IKEA on the way to look at a wardrobe and some other cupboards.  Then I shall speak to my other mate, A, about using his workmen to get it all fixed up and, maybe a bit of painting and so on.

So, suddenly this thing that I thought was all about how I look (as that’s what attracts people first, whatever anyone may say) and then what my character is like (if we get to the point of a meeting) is now about my whole bloody life and everything about the way I live!

*sigh*

In the meantime, I’m getting quite addicted to the online thing.  Real life stuff starts again tomorrow and really gets going next week, probably.

I need more sleep, for certain.