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ScruffyGuy wrote:

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I think I'm gonna puke.

As will most of you at the notion of me having an actual date. Or just about anything to do with me, really.




We're going for a "walk and talk" in the park. I am hoping for a vision quest wherein we both meet our animal spirit guides (a marmoset and a frilled lizard) who help us fall instantly in love and give us some decent coupons for 25% off.

After that, dinner. Finally I get to see him eat. I want to suggest hot dogs for obvious reasons but I think I'll be a gentleman and let him decide. Whatever he eats I'm going to enjoy watching that, especially if he spills on his shirt or drips on his chin. I think it would be adorable. Probably he'll disappoint me and be tidy.

I'll offer to pay but he'll refuse, we'll bicker about it briefly, then split the bill. Male ego thing. My birthday's coming, he can buy me dinner then if he wants but I'd rather have sex.

After dinner he suggested "maybe a movie or hang out or both."

Movie is fine but I don't know what's playing and Star Trek doesn't open until next week.

I mustn't get my hopes up and start providing alternate definitions for "hang out" in my own mind. To me, "hang out" means "did you close the lid on that AstroGlide?" but it might mean something else for him.

Oh, well. I'm there anyway. So very there.



I got a haircut yesterday, so that's perfect, all nicely shorn and buzzed.

I trimmed my fingernails and toenails but feel it is unlikely I'll find reason to remove my shoes and socks, alas.

Nose hair -- none visible, just enough deep inside to keep on filtering out the Swine Flu.

My beard is perfectly shaped and groomed, all even, very short, proper accent at the jaw, blends seamlessly into sideburns and super-short hair.

Foot bath and emollients, though again -- probably not necessary at this stage.

I'll use a little spray-starch on my dick, just in case.

The ointment appears to have healed all those sores, so that's good.

I bought a new shirt a couple weeks ago in anticipation of this. Never wore it, I wanted it JUST for this. It's black with blue and plum stripes and a very subtle, muted paisley pattern, nothing obnoxious like my shirts of yore. I am layering a t-shirt beneath this, exact matching blue as in the shirt. It will be open three buttons so the blue shirt pops and tints my green eyes.

I also bought a new @@*$!+, simple lines, black, light for spring, casual, slash pockets, zipper.

Haven't decided yet on the black 505s or the regular blue 501s. Either would go perfectly. I don't want to overdo the black and yet... I think it would make a statement. Suggestions? 505s have a zipper, 501s button-fly. I can get EITHER open in less than two seconds so that's not a factor.

Don't think I'll bother with a watch. I want time to pass without notice and glancing at a watch is bad form.

Not sure if I'll wear my glasses. He's seen a photo but has never seen me in them. I might need them at the theater, I probably should at least carry them with me.

Just sneakers -- that's what he'll wear, I know it. They're brand new and spotless. Adidas. Best sneakers I ever owned -- I'll never go back to #%$+.

I don't know. I SOUND rather adorable to me. In theory, anyway. The reality is likely to be... horrifying, right?




He's still hesitant but has been asking me out for a while now and this is the first chance we've had.

He says he still can't handle starting something only to put it on hold for a couple months until I get back.

There's phone, email, IM... we can communicate constantly.

And when I get back... the dude is totally going to fall in love with me anyway. Why wait?

He emailed me last night, urging me to sign up for an IM service, so I did. He "just happened" to be waiting around at 3 AM for me to show up. We chatted a while. I haven't used IM for YEARS. But I'll do it for him.

He'll be reading a letter I wrote for him today before we meet.

Just imagine getting a Mr. Scruff letter written JUST for you. Need I go into details here? Likely he'll need Lasik at an early age.

He admits he's nervous and scared. So am I; he knows this.

He has used the phrase: "play it by ear" four times thus far and I don't like that even though that's what we're doing regardless and there really is no other way to play it.

He says: "Everything is happening so fast, I have so many thoughts swirling in my head."

Yeah, me, too.

He's being noncommittal yet I know he's feeling something strong. Why else would he worry about me leaving for a couple months?

(You are supposed to convince me and soothe me here.)




For 8 years, I have rejected EVERY single guy for anything more than sex. No phone calls, no dinners, no sleeping over, no watching DVDs.

So this is fucking weird.

He tells me without coming right out to say it that he is fragile and that makes me want him more. He tells me directly that he's emotional and that makes me absolutely adore him. He wants to share his heart and he wants a guy to care about it and I DO.

What the fuck is wrong with me? (Flame opportunity here -- take it, run with it.)




I told him he's not getting away from the evening without sharing affection, but I don't know. He might try. Little acts of tenderness, I think, really get deep inside him.

Which is where I want to be, and not just my dick.

How odd and unlike me.

I think he should get some flowers before I leave, but not tonight.

And even if there's no sex this evening... um... I kind of don't care.




I will speak his name often in conversation. I love his name and he loves my "smooth and sexy" voice. I'd do that without pre-planning anyway. It's how I speak naturally.

I will compliment him on many things because it's all true and he deserves it.

I will hold his gaze a long, long time.

I will be very gentle with his heart but I won't lie to him, either.

I will also probably take half a five milligram Valium tablet, which should get me through the first couple hours at least.

This is fragile, wounded, tender, gentle, caring, warm, affectionate, petrified young man who told me he could "fall hard" for me within the first two weeks and even though that sounds crazy I felt the very same thing myself and I am a callous, miserable, jaded, nasty, rotten, dried-up, fat-ass old douchebag.

And yet he's melted me into a puddle of whatever nasty, gelatinous substance you get when you heat a Scruff-dude on slow-simmer in a double-boiler for eight weeks.

What the fuck, people?




I did something resembling what I remember to be a process known as "sleeping." It was more like four and a half hours of contortions with some drooling. I don't feel refreshed and think it's unlikely I have time to go get a B-12 injection.

If he cancels at the last minute I'm going to wring his neck. I can tell he's getting cold feet but he was the one who asked me out first, ages ago.

Stay tuned, I'm likely to be both semi-catatonic and suicidal over the next few days. You folks should enjoy that.

Well if we ever started an favorite extended (long play) post thread....