Mood Killers
September 10, 2007I met a boy a week or more ago. We met on gay.com but made our official meeting at the local gay bar, so that we would never have to say “we met on gay.com”.
Anyway- he’s a super nice guy– masculine, deep voice, scruffy, works with autistic children and adults, is remodeling his house by himself, has a boat that he’s also fixing up… you get the picture.
He came over last night after accompanying an autistic adult to the guy’s father’s funeral. (can this guy BE any nicer??) It was a long day for him but he still wanted to come over. Since it was late, I sort of anticipated him MAYBE staying the night. And because he has a cute little dog that he’s been wanting to introduce to me, I told him to go ahead and bring it.
The best part is, I had done an excellent job of planning ahead. I got him a toothbrush. I got stuff for breakfast the next day. I got dog treats.
I was ready.
He shows up, and I hit it off with his dog (big bonus points for me, but I do well with dogs). We hang out, talk, drink a beer or two, and watch Little Voice. (Great movie, and he’d never seen it!) I play with his dog…
Then I start playing with him.
We start making out on my couch. And then I hear it. Dog retching noises. Just a couple of them– and then that dreaded wet cough noise.
We get up and he calls for his little dog. And out trots the pup from my bedroom. I run in with the boy on my heels so that we we can look for the sick residue. And there it was… a greenish-brown turdlike pile.
On my bed.
I have a white comforter.
The boy was kind enough to clean up the mess for me, and do what he could to get my comforter to look sort of white again. And they both left soon after. I guess the mood was broken or something.
Nothing like a little dog doo to monk your buzz. Maybe the dog was nervous to be on a date too. So, next time, little Fido gets to stay home so you and daddy can have a real date. If all goes well, a discussion of “to scotch guard” vs. “time for kennel school” can be had.
At least you got to see Little Voice again, and a little smoochin’.
How about switching to a micro-fiber bed comforter, preferably something NOT white – if this works out – the little beastie will be around again. Just sayin….
ouch…. it could’ve been worse… I’m just sayin’
Oh no! I’m a dog lover and all, but none of my dogs were EVER allowed on any of the furniture…no debate. That way, things like this only mess up the floor.
Ewww… It could be worse. Stepping in the hair ball that kitty hocked up while you were too busy to notice, in your bare feet is pretty nasty. That can really kill the afterglow if you know what I mean.
It coulda been your post fuck shit… Regardless, a date. Well done!
I’m wary of dog people, especially the ones who bring their little buddies along on dates. Shows me that the pooch is #1 in their life and you will always play second fiddle.
One horrific memory comes to mind in regards to gay men and their dogs. I went out on a couple dates with this guy when I lived in SF. He seemed like a nice, sane guy, but on date #2 when we finally got around to doin’ the nasty, we had to WORK AROUND THE DOG on his bed, because he wouldn’t make the dog move. “That’s HIS spot.” Needless to say, that was the ultimate mood killer. I made up some lame excuse to leave and never called the guy again.
So are you open to seein’ this fella again, or did puppy’s mess on the comforter nix any chance of an encore?