Of Trust and Nipples

By Adam Kuhn
Posted Tuesday, June 26, 2007

It was the beginning of March, and things were looking up. I had just finished the huge undertaking that was my last project, and even though my account was hacked into and beaten to a pulp, this phoenix was flying high. I had a new profile, a new man, and to my pleasant surprise, new neighbors.

The other night, the Kristins and I went to a party in Wallingford. I was told it was going to be a rave-esque sort of thing, so naturally I did what I could to pull off my best “gay writer/director tries to look goth” outfit to fit in with the crowd. To avoid getting too lost, I brought along the man I’d been dating, for three days at that point, to anchor me down.

Not long after we arrived, it was time to hit the floor. To my amazement, and the amazement of my company, my new man was fitting right in by stealing the title of best dancer at the party. Somewhere in all the excitement, I met Kristin’s friend “P-Kat”, who not only moved into my building, but into the apartment right next to mine. We were told he would be having an after party there later on.

When we left, we went back to my place. Since we both were tired, we simply jumped into bed and called it a night. But something was odd. He was dressed. And in our short-lived reality, dressed wasn’t normal. Dressed meant pissed.

After gently prying and initiated conversation, I had found out that not all was what it seemed. In the course of three days, it had been concluded by the Grand Council of Dating that I am a jealous person, I have difficulty communicating my feelings, and absolutely detest nipples… Yes, I was just as puzzled. Later, I had been informed that this had been decided just that night.

My only thoughts: it was my first encounter with a drama queen. We all know who they are, those who do anything to make something of nothing. I had heard about them in stories. I've even seen them in action in their natural habitat, but never actually got close enough to touch one. Often I wondered why such behavior is necessary. Do they do it because of the excitement? Is conflict arousing? I never knew, and certainly wasn’t planning to concern myself now.

Maybe he had to get something off his chest…but, having no forecast of this shit-storm, I decided it best to just distance myself from things. This fight was sorely lacking foundation, and gay man drama wasn’t my areola of expertise. I wasn’t quite accustomed to being attacked under such confusing circumstances, let alone in my own bed, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. I never really put that much thought into nipples to begin with. (Forgive the awful puns, but try to understand how ludicrous the situation was to start).

When one of us turned away to ignore the other, I could hear P-Kat’s after-party through my wall. Fabulous. While my friends were having fun next door, my new “relationship” was already crashing. And I always thought my strong point was being immune to this bullshit.
The next day I was ready to cut my losses and move on. After all, what could anyone really have invested in three days? After giving Kristin the scoop, she suggested I call him, and against all my better judgment, I did.

The situation got me thinking about the limitations we lay out for ourselves when dating. There are certain points early on where we decide then and there to either stay in for another round or throw in the towel. If our fight had come some months down the road, then certainly there would be reason to keep swinging. But after three days… three short, dramatic, exhausting days… what the hell was I fighting for?

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