You're Not One of Those Fags Who Leads a Double Life...

...hell, everything about your life is single, single, single!  Seriously though, at twenty you came out to your parents after your college boyfriend dumped you (single, single, single!) and although you called them for emotional support, after you came out you wound up being the one who had to console your hysterical mother.  But from that moment on, you've pretty much lived one single, single, single solitary life where everybody knows that you're a big ol' fag.  However, what everybody doesn't know is that you're a big ol' fag with a Blah-Blah-Blog. 

Some people do know.  Your close friends.  Their close friends.  And so on.  And so on.  And so on.  If you could do it over you wouldn't have told anybody.  Not a soul.  But now you live in fear that eventually you're going to hurt someone who you really care about.  Like when you were dating Blonde Beard.  To this day you're not sure if he dumped you because he found out about the online chronicle of your dating life.  And honestly, this is probably why you can't seem to get over the hairy cheeked non-boyfriend.  The idea that you might have jeopardized your chance at a meaningful relationship because of your narcissistic online endeavor is really just too much to process.  Even three months after he left you crying your girlie little eyes out on the West 4th Street subway platform.  Cue the violins and grab yourself a hankie.  

Anyway.  Enough about Blonde Beard.  Back to you and your relatively new brown beard.  Tonight's a busy night.  You've got a fancy birthday dinner with the BLC at Cipriani Dolci.  In Grand Central Station of all places!  And then if the BLC feels up to it, you've been invited to yet another birthday party for yet another Blah-Blah-Blogger who somehow figured out who you were.  You have no idea how these Hardy Boys are solving the mystery of You!

As you're getting all dolled up for the fancy-schmancy dinner that you can't afford, you remember to check out Zee Blogger's evite to get the 411 on his birthday party.  Although you've already changed at least six times, as you pop your head out from an old, yet dressy blue Armani shirt from your fancier days, you can't help but sigh when you realize that Zee Blogger is having a, get this, Pink Party.  Ugh.  You're already running late and, let's face it, unlike Molly Ringwald, you are not so Pretty in Pink.   Eventually you decide that the Calvin Klein underwear you have on will have to do.  Although it used to be white, you ruined it while washing it with a red towel while doing a free load of laundry out on Fire Island.  Pink underwear is what you get for being cheap.  But you digress. Even though you're running late, now that you're looking at Zee Blogger's invitation, you suddenly get curious about who's on the guest list.  You are immediately thrilled to find your Internet Crush's name at the top of the list!  Of course he's also figured out who you are, however you've never actually met and your cheeks instantly flush at the idea of meeting your favorite Gay Movie Star in person!  It's all very exciting as you continue to scroll through the pages and pages of RSVP's (yes, Zee Blogger is that fabulous), but your heart literally stops on the third of five pages when you notice that, gasp, your Hobosexual Roommate's name on the fucking guest list!  Suddenly you have this paralyzing fear that you'll run into him and the BLC boys will start calling him the Hobosexual to his face!  Or worse, what if the Hobosexual asks Zee Blogger how exactly he knows you?  If they have a conversation you know that it will inevitably contain the term "Hobosexual!"  And if somehow neither of those doomsday scenarios play out, then surely your Internet Crush will out you after a few cocktails have been thrown down his neck.  After all, you've read about his drunken shenanigans on his blog.  Meanwhile, are there any gay boys who don't have a blog?

Although dinner at Cipriani Dolci is absolutely fantastic, you spend the entire meal sweating about filing for Chapter 11 after they swipe your credit card.  And if that's not bad enough, you are terrified that the BLC will end up wanting to go to Zee Pink Party where they will inevitably meet the Hobosexual!  So you end up doing what you always do when you're nervous.  You order a Stoli O' and Soda and boldly tell the waiter to "Keep 'em comin'!"  Inevitably this makes the check less affordable, but it will also make Zee Pink Partee much less awkward.  And, typically, it would also have the added benefit of making the sticker shock of the steep check more palatable when it finally arrives.  However, you are shocked into a state of girly giddiness when Fat Albert grabs the check and generously pays for all of you!  On his birthday!  Hell, had you known you were going to win Restaurant Lotto you would've ordered a flock of Grey Geese!  And an appetizer.  Made of Goose Liver, of course.

After the lovely dinner the BLC wants to go to Zee Pink Partee, so you make them promise, under no circumstances, that the word "Hobosexual" will ever fall from any of their bitchy tongues!  Even though, of course, you know they'll revel in torturing you all night long just because they love to see you squirm.  When you finally arrive, not only is everybody wearing pink, but everybody cheeks are flush pink because there is something wrong with the air conditioning.  Apparently there are just too damn many Hot Boys at Zee Pink Partee and the A/C just can't handle it.  So you and your blue pit stains begin to mingle amongst the pinks as you wait in fear for the Hobosexual to jump off his freight train, complete with his bindle hanging from a stick, which, after learning his Internet nickname, he will certainly beat you to a pulp with. 

Maybe it's because you're trembling with fear, or maybe it's because everybody is just way too cute, or possibly it's because it's about seven degrees hotter than hell in Zee apartment (and you're talking Celsius), but you don't really talk to anybody other than a boy you went on a Revenge Date with who's name you can't remember.  However, Zee Blogger is glad to see you, and you wish him a Happy Birthday and compliment his beautiful apartment which is like a little slice of Hell('s Kitchen).  Of course you ask about your Internet Crush, but Zee Blogger says he came early and has already left.  What's up with that?  And although you practically have to bite your tongue not to ask about the Hobosexual, you decide it's best to keep your big mouth shut and just live your rocky double life while sipping on your double Absolut on the rocks.  Anyway...