I thought all the crazies were back in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas in 1984.
It was my fault: the guy had no profile picture on Grindr, the photo he sent me was waist-down only, and his profile said "I'm Up for Anything," definite warning signs.
Then our interview was too short: named Brett, age 23, "you going to invite me over or what?"
But I was mad because a hookup failed to show up earlier after endless emails going back and forth, so I thought "Why not?"
The Hookup from Hell
First Brett goes to the wrong building. Then when I direct him to the right building, he can't find the front entrance, and I have to go downstairs and fetch him.
He's slimmer, paler, and younger than the buffed guy in the photo, AND he won't shake hands.
He stares at the building. "This place is pretty big. Does anybody know you're...?"
"Some of them. Why?"
"Don't talk to me or look at me. Just walk to your apartment, and I'll follow."
A 23 year old in 2017, as skittish as a pre-Stonewall closet queen? Weird! But I'm in it this far....
Brett comes into my apartment and looks around. "Are we alone? Is anybody else here?"
Great, he's going to rob me! But I'm three times his size!
"Just making sure. Got any wine?"
"No, I have Diet Coke, orange juice, and cranberry juice."
"No, thanks. Let's just go in the bedroom."
I lead him into the bedroom and start kissing and fondling him. He says "I'm really nervous" and breaks away.