Dear Airborne Ranger:
You were the highlight of PRIDE this year. When I saw you on stage wearing your Air Force uniform, I didn't even recognize you. The last time I was close to you, we shared a goodnight kiss on the couch at a gay men's retreat last fall. Then, yesterday, you popped back into my life. You stood on stage with the keynote speaker as she delivered her opening address. You were so handsome in your uniform. No, you were dashing. That's a word I don't use often, but it certainly applies to you.
Later, when I was walking around the festival with my friend Juju, you stopped me and ordered me to hand you my cell phone so that you could put your number in it. Being ordered around by a man in uniform is right up my alley, and I had the biggest smile on my face when you and I parted ways.
Imagine my surprise when you showed up at CC Slaughters last night (still wearing that sexy uniform!) and glued yourself to my side. I enjoyed tasting your lips over and over again, and I especially liked when you told me to feel your biceps through your uniform shirt. Yum.
While feeling your chest muscles and squeezing your arms and kissing your lips, I felt like I was on fire. I haven't been that aroused in a long, long time. You said that I was an amazing kisser, and you told me I was turning you on so much that you could barely handle it. So, when you asked me to come back to your place, I gave in and said that I would, even though I promised myself a few months back that those days of hooking up were over.
A few minutes later you brought a little friend over to our table, and I was confused. You began cuddling with him and holding his hand, and I knew that plans had changed. I felt very self-righteous and very wronged. When you told me that you liked us both and couldn't decide what to do, I almost threw up on your shiny black shoes. Come on, what were you thinking? Did you think maybe I would fight this skinny little kid for the right to sleep with you in some sort of reality show bullshit competition like "The Bachelor"?
I composed this awesome post in my head about how you lacked integrity and how you were a liar. Your actions were totally inappropriate, and I planned on bashing you with every keystroke as I spewed forth my anger. You led me on. How dare you - - um...
How dare you decide that - well - I mean....
Then it occurred to me.
Oh. I'm just disappointed that I didn't get laid.
Okay, so you don't lack integrity, and you're not a jerk, and I don't hate you. You decided to take somebody else home instead. But I think you missed out on a pretty good time. And I think he was kinda gross and that you made a mistake.
I mean, if you thought I was a good kisser, you should see some of my other skills. Guess you'll never get to taste my pancakes.