Don't sleep with the drummer

I got winked by a guy on gaymatchmaker.com.au a couple of days ago. He wasn’t bad looking, but he seemed primarily interested in meaningless sex, so I’m not sure he and I are much of a match.

He’s also middle eastern, and judging by his writing skills he’s not a native English speaker. While I do admit to finding middle eastern men rather sexy, I know from experience that they tend to be… well… less than stable. They’re either convinced that you are the greatest gift to humanity since penicillin, or they desire nothing more than to kill you and wipe your name from the pages of history. Often they can hold both of these opinions about the same person on the same day, depending on circumstances, mood and/or changes in barometric pressure.

So after a little consideration, I sent him the automated, “Thanks, but you’re not what I’m looking for” response.

Then I turned my attention to another guy. At the risk of sounding like a complete fag, he was dreamy: a rugged, uncomplicated face, a great body (well built but not too toned), a professional background and a comprehensible writing style. In short he was attractive, but no so much that he’d be out of my league. I gave him a wink of my own.

The next day, I checked GMM and found a message waiting for me. Needless to say, I felt a little thrill! Mr Dreamy was writing back!

But no. Mr Dreamy was not writing back. Mr Middle East was writing back, to say thanks for the wink, you seem interesting, I’d like to get to know you better.

You want to get to know me better? How about actually reading the message that was attached in large, bolded letters next to the wink… which wasn’t even a wink but a reply to your wink! Damn it!

Yet again Cupid’s arrow misses my heart and pokes me in the eye instead.

All this might be immaterial – just part of the ebb and flow of internet personals – but against my better judgement I feel myself being tempted to give Mr Middle East a second chance. He really is sort of cute, in a lumpy, swarthy kinda way…

But damn it, that’s just the loneliness talking! I can tell it as soon as the thought drifts across my mind. I’ve spent the last 24 hours daydreaming about Mr Dreamy, so of course I’m in a romantic mood (not to mention as horny as hell). It’s a classic case of lusting after the lead singer of the band but ending up sleeping with the drummer.

Note to self: do NOT sleep with the drummer. I don’t care how desperate you are.