Tuesday, January 10, 2006

The Cartwheel

I've got a reputation for dumping guys for what others might perceive as frivolous reasons. I just can't help it. In my opinion, most of them were well-deserved, like The Gossiper, or Smelly Feet, or Too Much Cologne Wearer, or Dog Hater. I appreciate that I might have let a few good ones slip through the cracks just because I wasn't mature enough to see the forest for the trees. But there was one time where I was completely justified. And this time, I had witnesses to support my decision...

Several years back, I visited Pensacola, FL over Memorial Day weekend. Some friends and I had rented a beach house and were enjoying some of the circuit party holiday festivities going on that weekend. It was a blast. On the very last day at the beach I met the most gorgeous guy I'd ever seen. Young, tall, skinny, spiked hair--ripped and curved in all the right spots. He was from New Orleans and was absolutely breathtaking.

We swapped numbers and later that evening he met us back at the house before going to the final event a party. We had a great time all night long. We danced, we hung out, we danced more, and then made our way back to the beach house for a eye rolling, toe-curling romp on the beach. A perfect way to end my vacation. The next morning as we were packing up, I mentioned to him that I would be in Atlanta for their Gay Pride events. What a coincidence--so was he! So over the next few weeks, we chatted on the phone and online and got to know each other better. I actually liked this guy. I think he liked me.

Fast forward to Turner Field in Atlanta where four to five hundred shirtless hotties were dancing to tribal rhythms the likes that stadium had never known. All my friends were there. No, seriously. Just about every person I knew and loved had come into Atlanta that weekend for this event. And they were all watching me and the boy. Some referred to us as the "love-birds," other, more precise friends called us "the chicken and the hawk."

As the evening drew to a close, I was taking a little break off to the side with a few buddies. As we guzzled water and watched everyone dance, I looked around for my date. After a few minutes, we all noticed a fast blur moving across the dance floor from right to left. What we saw was the most embarrassing thing I've ever witnessed. Anywhere. Period. My boy, in all his glory--right in the middle of the dance floor--did back-to-back cartwheels and ended in a round-house. And this, without one single DROP of alcohol or drugs.

Everyone that saw it stood speechless, then looked immediately at me, eagerly awaiting my response. I had less than a second to either defend his actions as simple good-natured fun, or send him packing with a derogatory nickname and a broken heart. Alas, I had to do what came naturally...

Goodbye, Cartwheel Boy. Goodbye.

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