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Happiness is:

• Hearing a judge say “We’re going to have to excuse you from this trial. You have now completed your jury service for this year.”
• Finding that three additional parking spaces on Seventh Street no longer have a two-hour time limit.
• A Red Baron microwavable pizza and To Sir with Love (especially the song, but the movie too) in the middle of the afternoon.

A trip home (and maybe here and here) will be scheduled as soon as all this is over. Get ready, east coast…

Why no, the picture above has nothing to do with anything. It’s just one of the several random Burger Chef moments I’d like this site to become known for. Thanks for asking…

Anybody have any great and unusual ideas for a skate-related porn story I need to start writing for Boardboys tonight? February’s PG&E bill may depend on it…

I have SO much stuff I need to be working on right now, and I can’t seem to start doing any of it…

Funny how you remember certain bits of sex many years later. Today, I’m remembering one from nineteen years ago. Nineteen years ago today, as it happens.

His name was Rick and he was 25. He was in a fraternity at UNCG and was, of course, wearing a T-shirt from said organization when we met, in a men’s room at Four Seasons Mall in Greensboro. I was 17, and that was one of my few options at the time, the others being the men’s rooms in Belk’s, Penney’s, and Ivey’s. I imagine he had other options but chose not to use any of them.

It was not nasty pig sex (although it was quite entertaining) and it wasn’t even the first time I’d picked someone up in a restroom. But it was sort of a first for me: the first time I picked up someone, went to his house, actually had sex in an actual bed, and then had an actual conversation afterward.

I was so excited. I even took his picture. I imagine this really gave him the creeps; a lovesick 17-year-old taking snapshots after we’d just committed numerous felonies, most of which would be unfairly blamed on him. This may have figured into why he didn’t show up for our next “date” the following Sunday afternoon. I was rather unhappy for the next week.

I saw him again once about a year later, when I too was a student at UNCG. He nodded. That was it. By that time, I had other things on my mind and it didn’t bother me so much. He’d be 44 now, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be much interested in a replay. But I still think about that run-in and how exciting it was at the time.

Y’know, this whole “reflective about sex and romance thing” is most likely going someplace, but it ain’t going there tonight. It’s time for dinner…

There’s this guy I work with. No, he’s not the one I had the sex dream about. He’s just a garden variety asshole…

I wonder how people like him manage to function in society. He’s over 30, but he still gives off bratty, sullen teenager vibes more convincingly than most bratty, sullen teenagers. He’s whiny. He has the same “that’s not fair” complex most of us grew out of at 16. This is not just Peter Pan Syndrome; he literally never grew up…

And to top it off, he’s probably the rudest, most inconsiderate person I have ever known. He slams into people and excuses himself grudgingly (if at all). He assumes that everyone’s food, newspapers, whatever, are community property, without waiting for an invitation (or even asking, most of the time). He can’t even be bothered to step out of the way when he sees you walking down the corridor carrying something heavy. And God forbid he should offer to help…

He’s always the first in line for (more than) his share when someone brings in doughnuts, burritos, or whatever, and he has, of course, never brought it anything himself. It goes without saying that he’s less than stellar in his job performance, and defensive when criticized…

Did I mention that he takes things? And that he gets really pissy when you call him on it? Yeah, probably…

The thing that really baffles me is that he manages to be employed or to have friends at all…

This is one case where I really have to blame the parents. It’s a no-brainer to deduce that he was raised by fairly well-off parents with such a blinding commitment to “self-esteem” and “self-expression” that they neglected to teach him the social skills, discipline, and sense of responsibility which might have ALLOWED him to express himself effectively. I can imagine that he’s never written a thank you note in his life.

And you can be sure his self-esteem will eventually suffer for it…

I realized this afternoon that I get almost the exact same feeling of inadequacy from reading both personal ads and employment ads. I always find one ad which seems to be an absolute perfect fit until I read the one glaring area in which I don’t quite measure up…

That’s probably why I read employment ads infrequently, and why I look at personal ads about once a year or so…

I think I take the personal ads a little more, well, personally. After all, if I really had to, I could learn Flash or ASP, even though it’s the last thing I’m really in the mood to do right now…

It’s harder, though, to change personal characteristics. Especially since I’m not much motivated to do so…

Queer versions of “my type” (cute little punk rock boys, shaggy-headed types, non-believers in “gay culture”, and other assorted geeky guys) are hard enough to find to begin with, and the few who exist are rarely attracted to ill-tempered, meat-eating, cigarette-smoking, semi-hairy slacker hermits in their 30s…

I quite understand; I’m not much attracted to ill-tempered semi-hairy slackers in their 30s either, except as really good friends…

Maybe in a few years, when I become an ill-tempered semi-hairy slacker in my 40s, my expectations will catch up with my reality, and I might actually start being attracted to more people of the sort who are actually attracted to me. I might even start thinking more in terms of sustainable relationships than of romance and sex. But I have my doubts…