Gaydar

As I said earlier, I am dating like a rock star…well except for all of the sex and drugs, which I guess would be a whole lot more fun…okay I digress. Come on, there’s always time for sex and drugs on the side so let’s stick with nice, wholesome dating here. Heh. Wholesome? Who am I kidding. …okay my gaydar may be on the fritz or something. So I go on a date, a breakfast date, with a boy. Let’s call him Mr. Big Head. I say that because he had a giant head! Like, it was way too big and round. It was hard for me not to stare as we met in person. Seriously. On the fly we decide to meet for brunch on a Sunday which seems fine, although I haven’t ever had a first date sans alcoholic beverage. I wondered if I’d ordered a mimosa would I have seemed like I had a problem? Anywho, he talks and talks and talks. Fine. He talked so much though, that he could hardly get through a single thought. Then he’d ask me a question and before I answered, he’d be off talking about something else. Again.

I don’t know though…there was something about his demeanor that was just so…well, gay. His voice a little. Even his mannerisms. I can’t put my finger on it, but I was not attracted so much. I thought maybe we could try a second time, but we never called each other so I’m thinking it was mutual. He bored me.

Then last night I spoke with Cat Man for the first time. Those of you who have read this blog before already know where someone named Cat Man is going. So he seems great, we get on the phone…that fucking high pitched voice is back…clearly I need a deeper voice man or something…then he said it.

Chat chat chat…”I just love my kitty.”

MMmmm, okay either you just talked dirty to me, or you are describing your pet. I hoped for the former. Not to go back to it, bc I love my gay friends, but when a straight man repeatedly says “my kitty,” he just sounds too femine:

Me: “Did you just say KITTY?”
Him: “Oh ya, I love him and all of my roommates need to love him too. He needs a lot of attention. One of my roommates is allergic.”
Me: “That must be terrible for her.”
Him: “Well she knew I had him before she moved in.”
Me: insert chuckle “I don’t think we’ll ever be able to date. I’m totally allergic to cats. I think my profile actually says that.”
Him: But you wouldn’t not date someone because of a cat, right?”
Me: “Cats make me miserable and I can’t date someone with one. Especially since I knew that before I dated you, I really shouldn’t even start. Sorry.”

He proceeded to describe to me how he showers 3 times a day (does he stink?! Geez) and doesn’t like cat hair on his clothes, etc. Ya, I’ve dated men with cats, which first of all, I am against. A man with a cat is not sexy, I don’t care what you say. Plus, I have a bird and I don’t want your bastard cat touching my lovely bird. That’s all besides the point though. Cats make my esophagus close. Enough said. Noooooo thanks. Once I had mentally written him off I started thinking about the sleep I was missing bc I was on the phone and I got off. Drat! Foiled again…