(First published at mikealvear.com)
Like way too many people in this ravished economy, I have recently found myself unemployed and looking for a job. My resume sits patiently on dozens of online job boards, waiting for any part of it to catch someone’s eye. Daily I scour employment sites, trying to find the perfect marriage of a job and my skill level. The entire process seems oddly familiar to me, the constant hope that with the click of a mouse I’ll stumble upon a suitable match. I check my email dozens of times a day, hoping to have heard back from a company I’ve contacted. Empty mailboxes are sober reminders of rejection. I’m openly advertising that I want something, with very little promise of reward. It occurred to me recently after reviewing my employment profile for the seventh time in one day, trying to see my work history through the eyes of a stranger, that I’m not only looking for a job, I’m online dating.
It’s rough putting yourself out there. Gone are the days when to avoid rejection we simply didn’t strike up a conversation with the gorgeous underwear model standing next to us in a bar. Now we willfully put up pictures of ourselves, slave over our online bios, and launch our dignity off into cyberspace for all the world to see. With the internet, even the most timid of us becomes a titan of ego. With what basically breaks down to be a billboard of ourselves, we submit our dating profiles to a cruel and judgmental public. We become marketing geniuses. We find just the right picture from just the right angle with just the right lighting. Then we sit back and wait for the customers to come to us. And just like with any failed business plan, if the strategy doesn’t generate any foot traffic, we rework our efforts.
As if combing over our products with a fine tooth comb wasn’t trouble enough, along came Facebook. Facebook has a feature to which your friends can tag you in photos, meaning that if someone snaps a picture of you drunk out of your mind, topless, moments before you vomit all over the coffee table, without your consent that Kodak moment can wind up on your online profile. In one instant, Facebook can destroy your brand. You are able to remove the unwanted photo, but you have to be logged in to do so. You can be innocently away from your computer, grocery shopping, giving the dog a bath, and return to discover that your life’s work has been destroyed by a bad picture. Suddenly your Match.com boyfriend whom you’ve yet to meet and have befriended on Facebook falls off the map.
Another striking comparison between the online job search and the online dating scene is that of the half-hearted attempt at contact. When you first begin either of the two, you shoot for the stars! No one is out of your league! The Italian plastic surgeon millionaire with a full head of gorgeous hair? Sure! I’ll send him a wink! CEO for a Fortune 500 company? Sure I only have a Journalism degree and manage money worse than Enron, but why not? But as your email inbox sits barren, over time you change course. Divorced, overweight, and unemployed BUT he also likes music? I’ll give it a shot! The local bathhouse is hiring guys to hose down the spooge on the floor? Why not? It’ll get me out the house.
Obama has promised to fix the current employment crisis, but what exactly does he have planned to fix the dating crisis?
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Married Marys.
(First published at mikealvear.com)
Despite having been out and proud for almost fifteen years, I am at constant odds with my fellow gays and bleeding-heart liberals over holy homo matrimony. I understand that gay couples are denied the financial and legal perks that come with the legalized sanctity of marriage. However, these perks come at a cost. I’m still not convinced that most gay people actually get what gay marriage would mean not only to our community, but to their relationships. I’ve compiled a short list of activities that will no longer be acceptable once the gays are able to start filing joint tax returns.
A. No more three ways. Ever! Not even when you’re both really drunk, out of town, and the hot bartender asks where your hotel is. Remember growing up, how your parents never came back after a night out with some random person? Exactly.
B. No more moving at the speed of light. If you connect with someone that you’ve met at a softball game or sex party, you cannot make copies of your house keys for them within the week. Think about all of the straight weddings you’ve been to, how the couples knew each other since high school or college. Just because someone swallowed on the first date or can make your ex jealous does not necessarily make them marriage material. Clearly, when the Iowa Supreme Court deliberated on gay marriage, they did not take that into account.
C. No more of this open relationship crap. Sure, you and your partner may have a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, but once gay marriage is legal, that policy will be known by two new names: “adultery” and “goodbye, half of my shit.” Even if you two have an understanding, that agreement won’t mean squat when they start planning to divorce you and hire a private investigator to follow you around. Judges in divorce cases don’t care about open relationships. They care about granting people alimony.
D. No more internet trolling. I was once working on a Saturday when the cops came in and confiscated a straight male co-worker’s computer. Apparently, he’d been using his work computer to meet women on Match.com. Needless to say, his wife, the mother of his children, did not approve and procured herself a court order proving that her husband was cheating. This means no more faceless body shots splattered all over Manhunt. Actually, if gay marriage is legalized, Manhunt should remove the “Open Relationship” option from their profiles for liability purposes.
I realize that many heterosexual couples also have less than traditional relationships (Hollywood actors, polygamist cult members, the Clintons). But I’d venture to say that in a random sampling of gay couples and straight couples the gay couples will outshine the straight ones in dysfunction 2 to 1. We homosexuals should think long and hard about what we are willing to sacrifice for marriage equality. Monogamy is not easy. And failure at monogamy, within the boundaries of marriage, is punishable by law!
(The author must disclose that he hasn’t had a boyfriend in over a year and is admittedly jealous of gay couples)
Despite having been out and proud for almost fifteen years, I am at constant odds with my fellow gays and bleeding-heart liberals over holy homo matrimony. I understand that gay couples are denied the financial and legal perks that come with the legalized sanctity of marriage. However, these perks come at a cost. I’m still not convinced that most gay people actually get what gay marriage would mean not only to our community, but to their relationships. I’ve compiled a short list of activities that will no longer be acceptable once the gays are able to start filing joint tax returns.
A. No more three ways. Ever! Not even when you’re both really drunk, out of town, and the hot bartender asks where your hotel is. Remember growing up, how your parents never came back after a night out with some random person? Exactly.
B. No more moving at the speed of light. If you connect with someone that you’ve met at a softball game or sex party, you cannot make copies of your house keys for them within the week. Think about all of the straight weddings you’ve been to, how the couples knew each other since high school or college. Just because someone swallowed on the first date or can make your ex jealous does not necessarily make them marriage material. Clearly, when the Iowa Supreme Court deliberated on gay marriage, they did not take that into account.
C. No more of this open relationship crap. Sure, you and your partner may have a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, but once gay marriage is legal, that policy will be known by two new names: “adultery” and “goodbye, half of my shit.” Even if you two have an understanding, that agreement won’t mean squat when they start planning to divorce you and hire a private investigator to follow you around. Judges in divorce cases don’t care about open relationships. They care about granting people alimony.
D. No more internet trolling. I was once working on a Saturday when the cops came in and confiscated a straight male co-worker’s computer. Apparently, he’d been using his work computer to meet women on Match.com. Needless to say, his wife, the mother of his children, did not approve and procured herself a court order proving that her husband was cheating. This means no more faceless body shots splattered all over Manhunt. Actually, if gay marriage is legalized, Manhunt should remove the “Open Relationship” option from their profiles for liability purposes.
I realize that many heterosexual couples also have less than traditional relationships (Hollywood actors, polygamist cult members, the Clintons). But I’d venture to say that in a random sampling of gay couples and straight couples the gay couples will outshine the straight ones in dysfunction 2 to 1. We homosexuals should think long and hard about what we are willing to sacrifice for marriage equality. Monogamy is not easy. And failure at monogamy, within the boundaries of marriage, is punishable by law!
(The author must disclose that he hasn’t had a boyfriend in over a year and is admittedly jealous of gay couples)
Friday, April 3, 2009
'Tis the season.
(First published at mikealvear.com)
Growing up we always had dachshunds. My mother was partial to the females because they wouldn’t hike their legs and mark all the furniture. They were such cute, fun, caring animals, playful and dedicated to us. Until they went into heat.
Overnight, our dogs would lose interest in playing fetch or chasing us around the yard. They had one thing on their minds as they walked around in a daze. They wanted to get laid. And they wanted it bad.
Everything made them horny. There was no avoiding it. Even pats on their backs would send them into a frenzy, whining and grinding their butts against your leg. No stuffed toy was safe in our house when the dogs were “in season.” Any unattended dolls or teddy bears would be violated like Jodie Foster in “The Accused.” Care Bears, ALF dolls, and Cabbage Patch Kids were used up and thrown out like street whores. Our adorable and loving pets transformed from Mother Theresas into man-eating Paris Hiltons right before our eyes.
That always stuck with me, how at just the thought of sex some creatures will completely change. Knowing this better prepared me for life as a man, particularly for life as a gay man.
I am famous for thinking up ridiculous pick-up lines and using them on men in bars, anticipating nothing from the effort except big laughs from my friends. For example:
- “Congratulations,” you tell a guy. “For what?” he asks. “Because,” you coolly respond, “I am attracted to you.”
- “Hey, handsome. I recorded tonight’s all-new ‘Ghost Whisperer.’ What do you say you and I get out of here and go watch it?”
Recently, on a random Sunday afternoon, a champagne brunch turned into a pub crawl and by 4:30 in the afternoon I was drunker than the time I fell into the Christmas tree at a holiday party. I was in the throws of a long sex drought and found myself behaving like my randy pets from yesteryear. Given my fondness for awkward pick-up lines, to every guy that I’d rub against I’d say, “Pardon me. I’m in heat. Don’t mind me. I’m just in season.”
I went home alone that day.
Men can also be in relationship heat. This is when a guy craves a boyfriend more than he craves banging hot bartenders, his trainer at the gym, booty calls, etc… Here in Chicago, many gays go into relationship season just as summer starts to fade. As the temperature drops, so does attendance at the boy bars. Packing on winter weight and wanting to stay inside when the wind chill falls below zero, wild nights out hitting on out-of-towners become romantic evenings curled up with that special someone watching movies under warm blankets. As the seasons change in weather, so do the seasons of men. No longer in relationship heat, they move on. Always be cautious when entering into a relationship that starts on the outskirts of summer. You could merely be an avoidance from their trying to look cute while cruising for guys in ill-fitting winter sweaters. A man who loves you in a crowd of 500,000 half-naked gay guys during a summer Pride Parade is a man who will love you forever.
Everyone’s at nature’s mercy. Whether it’s wild monkey sex or a boyfriend, when we need it, we need it. We can only hope to stay one step ahead of our instincts. Do you like them because you like them? Or do you just want to hibernate for the winter? Or do you just need to get laid really, really bad? You know, like my dachshunds.
Growing up we always had dachshunds. My mother was partial to the females because they wouldn’t hike their legs and mark all the furniture. They were such cute, fun, caring animals, playful and dedicated to us. Until they went into heat.
Overnight, our dogs would lose interest in playing fetch or chasing us around the yard. They had one thing on their minds as they walked around in a daze. They wanted to get laid. And they wanted it bad.
Everything made them horny. There was no avoiding it. Even pats on their backs would send them into a frenzy, whining and grinding their butts against your leg. No stuffed toy was safe in our house when the dogs were “in season.” Any unattended dolls or teddy bears would be violated like Jodie Foster in “The Accused.” Care Bears, ALF dolls, and Cabbage Patch Kids were used up and thrown out like street whores. Our adorable and loving pets transformed from Mother Theresas into man-eating Paris Hiltons right before our eyes.
That always stuck with me, how at just the thought of sex some creatures will completely change. Knowing this better prepared me for life as a man, particularly for life as a gay man.
I am famous for thinking up ridiculous pick-up lines and using them on men in bars, anticipating nothing from the effort except big laughs from my friends. For example:
- “Congratulations,” you tell a guy. “For what?” he asks. “Because,” you coolly respond, “I am attracted to you.”
- “Hey, handsome. I recorded tonight’s all-new ‘Ghost Whisperer.’ What do you say you and I get out of here and go watch it?”
Recently, on a random Sunday afternoon, a champagne brunch turned into a pub crawl and by 4:30 in the afternoon I was drunker than the time I fell into the Christmas tree at a holiday party. I was in the throws of a long sex drought and found myself behaving like my randy pets from yesteryear. Given my fondness for awkward pick-up lines, to every guy that I’d rub against I’d say, “Pardon me. I’m in heat. Don’t mind me. I’m just in season.”
I went home alone that day.
Men can also be in relationship heat. This is when a guy craves a boyfriend more than he craves banging hot bartenders, his trainer at the gym, booty calls, etc… Here in Chicago, many gays go into relationship season just as summer starts to fade. As the temperature drops, so does attendance at the boy bars. Packing on winter weight and wanting to stay inside when the wind chill falls below zero, wild nights out hitting on out-of-towners become romantic evenings curled up with that special someone watching movies under warm blankets. As the seasons change in weather, so do the seasons of men. No longer in relationship heat, they move on. Always be cautious when entering into a relationship that starts on the outskirts of summer. You could merely be an avoidance from their trying to look cute while cruising for guys in ill-fitting winter sweaters. A man who loves you in a crowd of 500,000 half-naked gay guys during a summer Pride Parade is a man who will love you forever.
Everyone’s at nature’s mercy. Whether it’s wild monkey sex or a boyfriend, when we need it, we need it. We can only hope to stay one step ahead of our instincts. Do you like them because you like them? Or do you just want to hibernate for the winter? Or do you just need to get laid really, really bad? You know, like my dachshunds.
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