Last night I got one of the most valuable lessons in love, dating and relationships. Elderly gays really are drama queens.
Francisco, a 48 year-old Spanish-FIlipino and I went to a date yesterday. I was supposed to cancel because it was raining rather heavily but he offered to pick me up at a nearby McDonalds so I relented. We had dinner at Italianni's. I protested because I was inadequately dressed, but once again, he reasoned out that since I'm with him I need not worry.
True enough, there was nothing to worry. He offered a full-course dinner, but due to WEIGHT ISSUES, I opted for a nice and refreshing mediterranean chicken salad (it is laced with these flavorful bits called capers). As the dinner progressed we knew each other better. He was nice, very nice indeed. In his car he asked where I wanna go, and I replied with a very eloquent "anywhere" (define eloquent hahaha).
We went to this private place with four walls and the airconditioning is cold enough to make antarctic penguins feel right at home. I know where it's heading to, and I don't care. I want to assert that I am my own woman (ok ok technically a man) and I know what I want. As we kissed deeply, he fumbled with the fastenings of my pants. At last when my raging willy popped out, my phone rang. I saw an unfamiliar number. I took the call.
The caller's name is Bryan and is asking how am I doing. Honestly, I remember him vaguely (without his pants on). He is the one-minute man. Hold his dick and he will come in a minute hahaha.What I didn't realize is that Francisco is already freaking out. All of a sudden he lost interest and told me that we should get going.
In his car he said that he wouldn't want to get involved with me unless I sort out my priorities and not treat him like a spare tire.
I argued that he isn't a spare tire (more of a vintage car given his age hahahaha), Anyhow it was pointless.
Obviously it was a date that ended in disaster. He still drove me home. So much for hoping so much for something that is really not meant for me.
I was lying in bed wondering what I did wrong, and then i remembered that I forgot my fifty-peso umbrella in his car.
Oh darn. I'll just get a new umbrella and I'LL GET A NEW GUY.
(Hint about his identity: Cong. Miguel Zubiri is his nephew and he speaks flawless Castilian Spanish)