Tuesday, October 13, 2009


The other night I found myself in a totally unexpected compromising position -- actually, several compromising positions. Think Monica and Chandler after Ross's wedding to Emily on Friends (or Fraiser and Roz on the Frasier rerun that, ironically, I happened to see the other day). The odds are pretty stacked against this story arc coming to a Chandler-Monica conclusion (marriage, twins, house in the 'burbs), but who needs that? There is something refreshing about being with someone you know and like and not having to worry about whether he'll text you the next day. Of course, there is that sure-to-be-awkward next encounter to consider, but I'll cross that bridge when it's in front of me.

As incestuous as the gay world can sometimes be, aside from the steamy friend-on-friend kiss now and again, I've always drawn a clearly delineated boundary between friendship and sex. But as I thought to myself right before taking the plunge onto my coloured bedspread, there's a first time for everything.
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