Out Through the in Door (3 page)

15

CLICK
 

             
Oscar stared at the screen. The profiles seemed different now. He had joined the online dating site two months ago – hopeful and excited. It offered tools and tips for meeting people. Its sophisticated search engine found dozens of matches for him. Although Oscar met lots of people, he was no closer to finding anyone that wanted what he did – a friend, a lover, a partner. The only consolation was that the second month was free.
             
             
Now he was done. His spectacular failure not only reinforced his loneliness, but made him feel like a loser. He was closing his account and giving up on dating entirely. One by one he deleted the profiles he'd saved –  ones he had actually gone on dates with. As he recalled them, he was embarrassed at his own naivety.
             
His first had been with Dan. They met at a Mexican restaurant. Dan was forty-five. His black hair was slicked back and neat. With a suit and tie, he looked all
business.
             
“So what do you do for work?” Oscar asked him.
             
“I'm a biochemist,” Dan said.
             
“Sounds fascinating.”
             
“I guess.”
             
Oscar thought the response odd. The conversation was uncomfortable and guarded. Dan seemed impatient and his eyes darted around as he tapped his pinky ring on the table.
             
“You with the mob?” asked Oscar with a chuckle.
             
Dan smiled glibly. He'd barely eaten but was downing Margaritas as if a  Tequila shortage was imminent.
             
“Have you met many people online?” he asked.
             
“You're my first one,” replied Oscar, slightly embarrassed.
             
“That makes this special.” Dan raised his drink. He had relaxed enough to loosen his tie, take off his suit coat and move closer to Oscar to caress him. “I'm looking for an easy committed relationship,” he slurred.
             
If his eyes weren't glassy and he wasn't struggling to keep his head up, Oscar would have thought him sincere. But when the caressing turned into groping, it was clear that by easy, Dan meant sex, and by committed, he meant now.
             
He fell forward – his head landing on Oscar's lap. Anger and sadness washed over Oscar.
             
“Sorry, he said, “I'm not looking for a fuck buddy.”
             
He dropped some money on the table and left.
             
Click
. Dan's profile was gone.
             
The three gay bars in Oscar's town offered little opportunity for dating. One catered to prepubescent, anorexic boys, another to the leather-fetish crowd and the last was a lesbian hot spot. He didn't want to babysit or buy crotchless leather chaps. And the last bar didn't matter.
             
He hoped online dating would improve his odds. But the men he met just wanted sex or to be friends. Others were just too strange and shouldn't have access to the Internet. Oscar even looked for a lunatic-screening filter on the search engine. He didn't expect to find more of exactly what he
didn't
want.
             
He had stopped on the profile for Chuck – another disastrous date. In his forties, Chuck wanted to meet someone interested in a long-term relationship. According to the compatibility index, they were 85 percent compatible, maybe a match made in heaven. At least the odds were good.
             
They planned to meet for coffee. Oscar sat at the table drinking water to quench his thirst – his mouth dry from nervousness. Chuck walked in and Oscar felt himself gasp. Chuck was easily twenty years older than his photo. His face was ashen and his hair an unnatural brown. As he approached, his gait was staggered. His right hand grabbed at every chair and table along the way as if it were used to clutching something – a cane perhaps. Oscar forced a stilted smile.
             
They ordered coffee and were soon engrossed in conversation about mutual interests, experiences and family. It flowed easily and Oscar was enjoying the company until the subject of past relationships came up.
             
Chuck's expression changed instantly from pleasant to pained – his wrinkles multiplied. For the next hour, he fought back tears as he talked about his last partner John. His true love.  A wonderful man. They stayed together for ten years
and it was obvious Chuck missed him dearly.
             
Oscar felt bad for him but he didn't want to be his therapist. And he felt guilty for thinking that way.
             
“I'm so sorry for your loss,” said Oscar. “Was it sudden?”
             
Chuck sobbed. “It was.” 
             
“How long ago?”
             
“Five years.”
             
“If you don't mind me asking? What did he pass away from?”
             
“Pass away? He isn't dead,” said Chuck. “He moved to Florida with a younger man.”

             
Click
. His profile was gone.
             
Chuck had been his last and final date.
             
Now, disheartened, Oscar lay on the couch in a fetal position. What would he do once he deleted his own profile? He heard Damien, his roommate, coming down the stairs.
             
“Have you been up all night?” Damien asked as he picked Oscar's laptop up off of the floor.
             
“Yup,” Oscar said flatly.
             
“I'll be right back.” He returned with coffee and coaxed Oscar to sit up. “
You expect to find Prince Charming?” he asked.
             
“Sure, on a dating site,” replied Oscar. “Read any profile – they all want a relationship.”
             
“I learned to read between the lines a long time ago,” Damien said. “You need to dump the idea of a perfect ending,
It's not like there's some kind of truth-in-
advertising required when they write them,”
             
Oscar had never known Damien to be in a serious relationship – monogamy wasn't in his genes. He changed men like clothing and his relationships were most often measured in hours. But he was always happy and never seemed lonely.
             
“What should I do, hang out on the street corner with my ass in air and hope for the best?”
             
“Hey. Don’t knock it.”
             
He suggested Oscar join HookMenUp.com, a site for gay men to chat and meet. Unlike Oscar’s dating site, its intent was casual sex with no strings or expectations.
             
“That’s not what I want.” Oscar told him.
             
“Because what you're doing is
so
much better,” countered Damien.
             
Oscar shot him a disgusted look, but Damien was persistent.
             
“Think of it as educational. You join and see how things work. If nothing else maybe it’ll help you spot the fakers.”
             
Oscar softened. He detected a kernel of truth that both excited and embarrassed him.
             
Within an hour Oscar was reading the profile Damien had written for him. Other than the face photo, Oscar liked nothing about it. His every objection was met with a counterpoint until he relented.
Click
  – he sent it.
             
Oscar couldn't believe
how many men he'd gone on dates with that were also on HookMenUp.com. There was
Dan again. But along with his face shot, there were photos of his dick, his bare ass and one of him licking his armpits.
             
Chuck was there too with the same 20-year-old photo. Only his name was
Charlie and had a penchant for leather swings, paddles and adult diapers. The adult diapers at least made sense.
             
For hours, Oscar looked over the site, but ignored the instant messages he was getting.
             
“Why don't you answer any of those?” asked Damien.
             
Oscar shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know?”
             
Damien grabbed the laptop, typed something, and handed it back to Oscar.
             
“Have fun,” he said and grabbed his coat and left.
             
On the screen was an open instant message to someone named Tom. Any non-involvement Oscar had soon disappeared.
             
Later that night w
hen he heard the car door close, Oscar peeked out the window. It was Tom. He deliberately took his time answering the door. Tom was extremely handsome. He was tall and muscular and his tussled blonde hair hung down to his brown eyes, which were large and expressive. Oscar offered his hand. Tom pulled him close and kissed him.
             
In the morning came a loud knock on the bedroom door. Oscar pulled on shorts and cracked the door.

             
“Hey,” said Damien. “What's up?” From the smirk on his face, it was clear Damien knew.
             
“Shh,” whispered Oscar. “I don't want to wake him.”
             
“Let me see.” He pushed on the door.
             
“No.”
             
“I might recognize him.”
             
“That's what I'm afraid of.” Oscar blocked his way.
             
“So. The research is going well then?”
             
“I'll talk to you later.” Oscar closed the door and got back into bed.
             
“Your friend is curious?” asked Tom.
             
“That's just my roommate. Nosy is more like it.”
             
“I should get going anyway,” Tom said, looking at his watch.
             
Oscar offered him coffee, but he declined.
             
“Can I call you sometime? asked Oscar, as they walked to the door.
             
Tom leaned in, kissed him and left. His car wasn't even out of sight when Damien came downstairs still wearing the smirk.
             
“Don't fall in love,” he warned. “It'll only hurt more in the end. And not in a good way.”
             
Oscar's heart did fall easily. He hated and loved that Damien knew that.
             
In the week that followed, Oscar saw Tom again as well as other men. He liked sex with a strangers. It was exciting, unpredictable and erotic. Of all the men he'd met though, he liked Tom the most. Whenever Tom sent an instant message to see if he was interested and available, Oscar always was.
             
Oscar got up the nerve to ask Tom about going to a movie, but was floored when Tom declined. He revealed that the open relationship with his boyfriend allowed for sex with other men but not dating. This bothered Oscar especially with his growing fondness for him. Damien's words echoed in his head.
             
Oscar went online determined to actually close his old dating account this time. But as he sifted through the email, one in particular caught his attention. It was from someone named Eli. It was sincere – even sweet. And after looking at his profile he was intrigued.
             
He looked at other profiles. There was sadness in the photos and desperation in the words – every half-truth was also a half-lie. Nobody wanted commitment. Oscar had wanted to connect with someone, but now it seemed pointless. The profiles hadn't change – he had.
             
He was certain Eli was like the others. He read the profile again and again and stared at the photo trying to divine his intentions. Since the account wouldn't expire for a few days anyway, there was no harm in writing back. Eli responded the next morning via email and included his phone number.
             
Oscar called him and soon they were talking on the phone daily. Eli seemed thoughtful, insightful and upfront. He didn't want a one-night stand or to rush into a long-term relationship. In every way that mattered, he seemed like a perfect match for Oscar.
             
Over the next month, Oscar asked about meeting, but Eli kept putting him off until Oscar's frustration got the better of him.
             
“I just don't see the point in continuing,” Oscar said.
             
“We're getting to know each other,” Eli responded.
             
“We are? On the phone perhaps, but I would like to actually meet you in person.”
             
             
“I'm just very busy right now. My schedule is overwhelming.”
             
“How do you expect any kind of relationship to happen if you're always busy?”
             
“What's the rush?”
             
The experiences of the last few months had altered Oscar's expectations. When he was younger, time was not a concern. It was all about finding his own way, following his dreams, about love – not worrying about tomorrow.
             
Now, in his forties, it was more about not being lonely – companionship. Hope replaced exuberance, chance replaced opportunity and tomorrow was much closer.
             
An instant message popped up on his computer. It was from Tom. While Tom's interest was clearly about sex, at least he was honest in his intent – a quality Oscar hadn't found in anyone so far. Perhaps in time something would change, but for now it was enough.
             
“Maybe you can pencil me in on your calendar,” said Oscar. He hung up. Quickly he sent Tom a response.
Click
– he was on his way over.