Read The Mandates Online

Authors: Dave Singleton

Tags: #Fiction

The Mandates (6 page)

BOOK: The Mandates
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11

NO ONE EVER LEARNED TO LOVE ANYONE, EVER... MOVE ON!

This mandate kicks in after your thirtieth bad date when the revolving door has ousted Mr. Dreck, Mr. Full of Himself, Mr. Not One of My Friends Would Understand This One Because He Looks Like He Just Stepped out of
Saturday
Night Fever,
Mr. Cute and All Over the Map, Mr. Just Coming Out, and Mr. Substance Abuse Issues.

Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, bereavement specialist, calls this your “compromise bargaining” stage, when you fall to your knees and throw yourself on the mercy of the higher power.

You yell heavenward, “Just give me a man who is employed or imminently employable, doesn't scare children, is remotely attractive—to someone somewhere—and is desirous of the kind of stability that I crave. I promise I'll like him as is, even if we have less chemistry than a fifth-grade science class.”

The thing to remember about this stage, when a viable candidate who “looks good on paper”
2
suddenly appears on the scene, is that no one ever
learned
to love anyone, ever—so move on.

Do not settle. Spare yourself the time and trouble. It will not work. Because if you have made it to the stage where you are reading this, it probably means you have inner standards that have survived your lonely periods, early coming-out years, and bad dates, making you a much stronger, tougher critic than you give yourself credit for. When you have reached this stage, you are ready, able, and willing to handle all twenty-five Mandates.

Believe me, I tried to settle a couple of times with a “looks good on paper” guy. Once, when I was twenty-seven, my handsome, well-educated gym buddy Don was in love with me. My friends and family liked him, we enjoyed the same social activities, and—this is key for any relationship to work for longer than three months—he accepted my life and me just as they were. I don't know if it was bad timing when we met, or if we were star-crossed, but I could not make myself attracted to him. I would look at his picture before a date, remember all the times I'd seen him after swim practice, looking buff and dripping wet in his Speedo. Yet when we were on a date, I couldn't stand the thought of touching him. One night I decided that it was my fault, I had let our friendship get in the way of true love, and that we just needed a boost to cross that physical barrier. So I bought two bottles of Veuve Clicquot champagne, thinking that drinking would get me over the hump, and invited him over. On my rooftop deck, two bottles of champagne and several beers later, I was buzzed and still didn't want him. That was my waterloo. If I didn't want this hot guy on a moonlit rooftop during a warm spring night, then it wasn't ever going to happen. Fate patiently waited for me to stop trying so damn hard.

When you are faced with a man who, after three dates, leaves you colder than a trip to Baskin-Robbins, accept that this is platonic. And then help him accept it. Look him in the eye kindly but firmly, access your inner Audrey Hepburn and then utter her immortal line to Cary Grant in the film
Charade:
“Date you? No, it's not possible.” If he persists with his mission and throws the “Can't we at least be friends?” option at you, finish Audrey's line by removing your sunglasses and stating sweetly and simply, “I can't possibly have any more friends. I'll let you know when one dies.”

12

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MR. RIGHT AND MR. RIGHT NOW: LEARN IT!

There is one set of rules for tricks. And one set of rules for potential relationships. And never the twain will meet.

Joe, a thirty-five-year-old doctor in New York, insists he is a “regular kind of guy, looking for a boyfriend. Why is that so hard to find?” Joe went out dancing one Saturday night at the gay club Roxy in Manhattan, where he met Phil, a twenty-eight-year-old accountant. Phil apparently found relief from the humdrum, number-crunching, nine-to-five grind in the weekend whirl of clubbing, nylon-mesh muscle shirts, and ecstasy, which he popped like popcorn the night he met Joe.

After dancing for an hour, they went home together and had wild sex. By 5 A.M., Joe was exhausted, in love, and couldn't wait for the next “date” with Phil.

The date didn't happen; Phil had left his phone number but never returned calls. But they did see each other at parties and clubs over the next few months. Phil always greeted Joe with a friendly, familiar hug and squeeze, and on several occasions, they went home together again. The same pattern repeated—great sex, a good time, mumbled talk about getting together again, Joe would call, and Phil wouldn't call back.

Joe was left wondering why they weren't seeing each other during the week, planning dates, and going away on weekends together upstate.

Phil was trying to figure out whether the creatine he drank was giving him leaner body mass, how to lessen postecstasy depressions, and whether he was going to get invited to the Fire Island A-list parties.

The phrase “Physician, heal thyself” comes to mind.

Phil wasn't just a little absentminded, playing hard to get, or taking things slowly so romance could develop, as Joe led himself to believe. Phil was a trick who had been turned into a “repeat trick,” which is not to be confused with a boyfriend.

Buddhist doctrines state that all pain in life is caused by attachment. I would add that dating pain is caused by attachment to the idea that tricks can be turned into marriage and vice versa.

The rules for fooling around are simple:

Keep it light.

Keep it fun.

Have no huge expectations.

Play it a little cool.

Don't ask too many questions.

Give yourself a reality check.
Don't think for one millisecond that just because he seemed “really, really nice” when you met him at 3 A.M. in the bar, followed by a hot time together at your house at four, that somehow this guy will become, by noon, the adopted father of that Romanian orphan you've always wanted to raise with the man you love.

The qualifications for Mr. Right will, of course, vary from man to man. You might prefer a tall, dark, and handsome extrovert with brown hair who wants to run for mayor. Someone else wants a short, blond introvert who likes quiet nights home alone together. The details don't really matter. The important thing is that you'll have a good idea who Mr. Right is by how you feel when you are around him.

Do you feel safe? Do you trust him? Do you have a sense of ease? Does he reinforce you in positive ways? Are you compatible when it comes to sharing space and spending time together?

Alex met his Mr. Right, Tony, at a gay event in Los Angeles. As Alex tells it, “I was dragged to speed dating. I thought it would be full of desperate, boring guys.” Tony pipes in, “It mostly was. The moderator called us all to order in a circle of metal folding chairs. I felt like was in AA. Hi, I'm Tony, and I'm a date-a-holic.” At first glance, speed dating hardly seemed to offer the hope of a Mr. Right Now, let alone a Mr. Right.

Alex and Tony made their seven-minute rounds, punctuated by the moderator clapping his hands in exasperation, saying things like “Just take any seat, boys. It doesn't matter, it's not like tops in one row, bottoms in another.”

“It got to the point where I literally didn't think I could move my dry lips to form a smile one more time,” said Alex. “I sat there planning escape strategies. Mr. Moderator would have to break it to my ‘matches' that I had to suddenly return to my homeland, Fiji. Family tragedy, you know.”

But then Alex and Tony sat face-to-face. They broke out into immediate, conspiratorial smiles. Tony said, “We just started talking, sort of laughing at the whole setup. I felt at ease with Alex. Before, I was so worried about how I looked, how everyone else looked, if I was being judged, how I would make conversation, and how I would avoid feeling awkward. I felt a genuine mutual interest with Alex, not predicated just on looks. The time flew when we talked. I wanted to tell him everything. We've been dating nine months and I still feel the same. When I was on the hunt, I always felt uneasy. That's the difference with Alex. I feel like I am with my friend.”

Of all the dating couples interviewed for this book, most cited that sense of ease and compatibility as the biggest determinant of Mr. Right versus Mr. Right Now.

13

THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER, EVER, FOR ANY REASON SAY OUT LOUD TO ANOTHER LIVING SOUL IN THE FIRST SIX MONTHS OF DATING

You meet a great guy, start dating, and see green lights down the relationship road. All the checkpoints along the way have been cleared: he's single, attractive, and interested in the same level of dating as you. After one week, your guard is down and you feel that you can say anything you want to him. In a word, don't.

Words are the Pandora's box of dating. You cannot take back words once they've been uttered. Of course, you want to say and hear all the right words that will alleviate the insecurities, questions, and fear inherent in any new dating relationship. But jumping the gun with overly intimate words and actions can backfire!

Bill, a thirty-three-year-old retail store manager in Maryland, met Chris, a thirty-five-year-old businessman, at a mutual friend's birthday party. Party attendees noticed how in sync Bill and Chris were, and the two started dating with a vengeance. After two dinner dates, Bill and Chris had pretty much planned the next eight weekends together. Everything was going great until the fourth weekend, the out-of-town wedding of Bill's sister. Bill said, “Everyone will be there, it's a great time to introduce you. I never brought a guy home before.” Flattered by Bill's invitation, Chris accepted.

Bill and Chris might as well have worn flowing gay rainbow flags for all the stares they got at the Georgia Baptist church wedding. Bill's family was tense because they were meeting Bill's gay boyfriend in the midst of their three hundred nearest and dearest. The tension translated to Bill and Chris, who now defined hell as being landlocked together amid Bible-thumping, poorly dressed homophobes, riddled with insecurities about their budding relationship, and stuck listening to endless streams of “straights-only” wedding talk. They broke up soon after the trip, attributing the downfall to excessive pressure.

In retrospect, they learned an important lesson. Don't speak too soon and find yourself in situations that, while tough for any couple, are impossible for a new gay couple. Don't underestimate the stress involved in demanding activities such as meeting parents, family, and friends, visiting hometowns, and attending weddings. In the first few months of dating, be careful what you say, where you go together, and what you promise.

The things you should never, ever, for any reason say out loud to another living soul in the first six months of dating are:

TO HIM

I'll love you forever.

This is it. I just know.

It doesn't matter to me what my friends think when they meet you. They'll love you.

Your HIV status doesn't make a difference to me at all.

At the bathhouse last night, I ran into a guy who reminded me of you.

Maybe we should just move in together. Things are going so well.

I'd love to meet your parents.

What's the big deal? It's just meeting my mother. She likes everyone.

I have this wedding I'd like you to go to with me.

Oh, no, I don't mind at all when you leave the cap off the toothpaste.

Since we agreed to be monogamous, it's okay to do anything we want sexually, right?

TO ANYONE ELSE

He's perfect.

He needed to borrow fifteen hundred dollars. Of course I gave him a loan.

So he spends entire weekends alone with his ex-boyfriend—so what? I think it's nice they're friends.

Do you think he's right for me?

We just know each other so well. We have no secrets.

I'm so flattered and honored that he wants us to share one checking account.

It's not that he doesn't want to see me, it's that he just needs a little more space for him on weekends so that he can focus on me when he's with me.

He just drinks that much because he's under a lot of stress right now.

He wasn't cruising that other guy. He's just naturally flirtatious.

BOOK: The Mandates
6.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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