I’ve been meeting a lot of interesting people lately. In a way, I’m finding that I’m more social right now than I’ve been in a long time, despite my recent bouts of cynicism and “I’m bored with fags” attitude.
Friday night I was at the Hole in the Wall. First time I’d spent a really fun night in there in quite a while. It was as if all the tweaker trash had decided to go someplace else for the night, and people I knew and actually liked were lurking around every corner. It was a strange collection of people who — like me at the moment — used to go out a lot but seem to have developed a little perspective and are doing other things more frequently now. It was sort of nice.
It was also a collection of people I’d met in a number of ways, quite a few of them being people I’d met online. Not in chat areas or on IRC; I absolutely detest that whole online chat thing. It’s good for some, but it just doesn’t work for me.
Most of my online friends are people I’ve met as a result of the web site, or related to the occasional Usenet posting about whatever subject. I think it bodes well for the medium that a few people who I knew as text-only before I knew them in person have become some of my closest friends: a recent case in point being Sarah.
Yes, it is very true that I have slept with people I initially met online. That number is probably about 10-12 or so at this point. The really interesting thing, though, is that I’ve kept in touch with most of these people after the fact as well. Much better average than for those I’ve picked up in bars or sex clubs.
Many readers know I haven’t even walked into a sex club in over six months. It’s a little hard to maintain a web presence which promotes them without actually doing the…ummm..legwork, but I’m trying. This is because I still think sex clubs are a good and healthy thing. They’re just not the thing for me right now, for a number of reasons.
It is possible to have dialogues and actually “meet” people (not just their penises) in sex clubs. I met my longest-term “serious” boyfriend ever in one. The first time we had sex, fifteen people were watching and we found nothing particularly odd about that at the time or later. I used to be fairly known for having long conversations in the kitchen at Mike’s Night Gallery. Made a lot of observers really nervous; guess I wasn’t being “anonymous” enough for some. Fortunately, my conversation partners were no more bothered by it than me.
Maybe the fact that this stopped happening to me, even occasionally, is part of the reason I gradually just stopped going to sex clubs. I never consciously stopped; I just sort of realized one day that I wasn’t going anymore. I may start again just as unconsciously. Who knows?
The explanation of why I’m not going out to bars much now that I can go out any night I choose is no doubt more complicated, and I’m still working on it…
Anyway…Sunday night I did something I really haven’t done in a long time. I picked up someone at My Place, made out a bit there and brought him home. What’s odd about this? To start, I’ve had an annoying habit lately of only bringing home people I already know (repeat performances, so to speak). Also, most of my activity at My Place has been confined to the actual bar lately.
This turned out to be a special case, though. If there was even a “match made in heaven” for me, this was probably it. He was 31, casually employed, a smoker and a drinker and meat eater but not a drug freak, he liked fucking to Sonic Youth, his sweat tasted great, and it was REALLY fun sex, with an intensity level I haven’t experienced in a good while. And he was capable of having a conversation afterward. As luck would have it for me, I’ll probably never hear from him again, even though he seemed enthusiastic about the idea as he left.