Post Mortem

After arriving home from Jacob's place earlier, I managed to do a few chores. My ex used to do the sweeping, and he used to bring our laundry to the shop downstairs as well, but since he left these were now things that I had to do myself. Being in a relationship meant we had someone to depend on beside ourselves, someone who made sure of our comfort and well being. I didn't have that anymore. But whatever. I'll manage.

Uno was already waiting for me at Powerbooks when I arrived in Greenbelt. I went straight to the second floor where the art section was because I was sure I would find him there. He was seated on the floor, a book on Matisse open on his lap. We air kissed and I sat beside him.

“I went out with Adam last night,” I said.

“Oh hon, don't you think it's too early for that? It's only been two weeks,” Uno said.

“I met someone.”

“Already?”

“And I went home with him.”

“Are you after Adam's crown now?”

“Gaga. She's prettier.”

“But seriously, are you sure that was a good idea?”

“I don't know girl. In my defense I didn't plan on doing it. I just wanted to have some fun, check out the scene. I'm tired of moping around. And Jacob seems different. He wears this cute black-rimmed glasses, and he looks so clean and mabango. And he works as a copywriter, that's a plus, right?”

“I take it you're seeing him again?”

“We exchanged numbers but he hasn't texted me yet. Do you think I should text him?”

“No. No no no no no. He'd think you're desperate. He should text you first.”

“But I want him to know that I like him and that last night was not just a random hookup.”

“How do you know it wasn't just a one night stand?”

“He got my number, didn't he?” And he asked me to sleep over.”

“Point taken. But how do you know he's not just looking for a fuck buddy?”

“That's why I want to text him. I'll make it clear that I'm not only after the sex.”

“I won't do it if I were you.”

“But I do. So anyway, you have time for dinner? I'll ask Adam if he's free.”

*

Adam arrived a few minutes after we were seated at Kitchen. The restaurant wasn't as packed as a Saturday night. The stainless table gleamed under the overhead lamps, and see-through wine bottles with a sprig of mint was on each occupied table. Because we've been eating here for years, all the waiters knew us and we always got good service.

“Did you take home Mr. Clean last night?” I asked.

“Oh God. He has a small dick,” Adam said.

“I thought you were top?” Uno asked.

“Wait, he does? But he was so tall and buff,” I said.

“It's not always the case. And I should know, I've done the market research. Top, bottom, it depends. But the nerve of that guy. He wanted to fuck me. I told him that I only bottom for guys that are bigger than me,” Adam said.

“So then what?” I asked.

“So I fucked him,” Adam said.

“And then you lived happily ever after?” Uno asked.

“No way. I don't want a boyfriend with a small dick. After we had sex I stood at the foot of the bed waiting for him to get dressed. He certainly got the message, and he had the decency not to ask for my number,” Adam said.

“At least HE was decent,” Uno said.

“And you, how was your night?” Adam asked me.

“I went home with someone,” I said.

“Was the sex good?” Adam asked.

“I guess,” I said.

“There's no guess, only good or bad. So I take it it's bad?” Adam asked.

We paused as our food was served, so as not to scandalize the waiter. 

“It was okay. The kiss was definitely hot. Maybe it was my fault. I was so used to having sex with only one person that it will take some time for me to adjust. But I'm sure I want to get to know him better,” I said.

“He shouldn't text him first, right?” Uno asked Adam.

“Why not? If he likes him then he should go for it,” Adam said.

“See,” I said.

“But isn't that desperate?” Uno asked.

“If everyone thought like that, nothing's ever going to happen. Someone has to take charge. And if Earl here wants to do that then he should. So wait, does he have a big dick?” Adam asked.

“What?” I asked.

“Well does he?” Adam asked.

“It doesn't matter to me whether he does or doesn't. What's important is I like him and he seems to be a sweet guy,” I said.

“He does, doesn't he? And you got fucked,” Adam said.

I smiled.

“I knew it! You slut,” Adam said.

“But it really doesn't matter to me,” I said.

“Tell me that when you've had sex with someone with a small dick,” Adam said.

“How small is small?” Uno asked.

“Like a fourteen-year-old's,” Adam said. 

“Really?” Uno said.

“So it's true what they say about muscular guys then?” I asked.

“Not me,” Adam said.

“Girl, too much info,” I said.

*

Back at home, while I was scrubbing the bathroom tiles, I thought about how preoccupied we were about appearances. We wanted to let someone know how we felt but we also didn't want to seem desperate. If we looked too eager it may be alienating, but if we were too aloof it may be a turn off. It really was difficult to find a good balance. And speaking of appearances, though I said that I wanted to see Jacob again because he seemed sweet, he wouldn't have caught my eye in the first place if he didn't look so fresh and clean. Though some of us didn't like saying it, looks really made a difference. As a possible boyfriend, of course we wanted someone pleasing to our eyes. We were, after all, going to have to see them everyday if we ended up living together. And beyond looks, sexual compatibility was just as important. For some gay men, even the dick size mattered. Given all these criteria that we look for in a boyfriend, was this the reason why it was hard to find one? Are we asking for too much or are we only looking for who we think we deserve?