The gay world has gone cellular.
I used to cherish the days when I would just walk in a bar, have a drink…or four, and start chatting with random guys.
My parents encouraged me to talk to strangers when I was younger. They also told me never to look both ways before crossing the street. Hmm…that’s a different story.
Anywho, the excitement of meeting a guy to date or even just hook up with (at home or in the nearest restroom) was fun and liberating.
But then came Grindr and Tinder.
When I now walk into a bar, I see flashing lights.
I get reminded of when I used to put flashlights under my chin to seem scary.
I was poor growing up. And there were no video games or internet back then. Don’t judge!
I don’t see guys’ faces at bars now.
I see shadow puppets.
Conversation has been limited to “Sup?” “Looking?” And “Into?” and I’m not complaining about “Woof!” I kinda like it.
My sex life has actually become worse as a result.
When guys ask me if I am a top or a bottom, I tell them I am a lefty.
Anyso, I am yearning for romance and chivalry.
I would love a guy to walk up to me and introduce himself with a clever pick up line.
“You must be a parking ticket…because you have fine written all over you.”
I don’t want my phone telling me a guy is about 236 feet away.
I want to actually see him…one foot away from me, offering to buy me a drink (even if I already have a gin martini and shot of Goldschlager in front of me).
So gentlemen, put your phones in your pocket, unless you are wearing skinny jeans, in which case you need to go to the store and buy better clothes…
Bring back the good old days of conversation and bathroom sex.
And in the morning, when you do the walk of shame down the hall, you can politely forget my real name, not my screen name.
Written by Mikey