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2009/06/12

That Guy! (And trust me, he ain't no Marlo Thomas)

So there’s this guy…

He’s been around for years now, haunting the same places that I cruise and haunt.

I hate him.

Why?

Because he’s always situating himself into my assignations.

It’s gotten to the point where, if I see him hulking about, I just go back to my car and leave.

It all began about nine years ago, when I began cruising certain areas of the metro for sex. It began innocently enough; I was playing with a dude and this guy walks up and starts to play with us. At that time he didn’t look too bad, kind of goofy looking, maybe dorky even, but okay (Blonde, curly hair, nice lips, reasonably young, probably younger than he looks). He looked to be about 28 – then (now? Ick!). His bod, at that time was white and pasty and a little on the soft side, doughy. But it turned out he had a big dick – like probably eight and half inches and thick – IF IT EVER GOT HARD – which it never did, has or does. It just hangs there like a big pale white worm. He won’t let you touch it or suck it. But he will yank on yours like he’s trying to pull start a lawn mower. No finesse, no sensitivity, just grunt force. In any case, I give him a free pass the first time. I’ll do almost anything/anyone once.

But apparently THAT GUY doesn’t take hints well. In fact he seems to bulldoze right through common convention – and not in a good way. He’s a clod; absolutely not one iota of etiquette exists in his entire being.

He likes to watch. And touch. And get right in there between you and the guy you’re being intimate with.

He also likes to drive his black Saturn ION really fast, as in, pulling out and into parking stalls and parking lots at speeds not recommended and scurrying like a rat on Tina from one parking lot to another. His frequent comings and goings are quite alarming, dangerous and very attention getting – but the wrong kind of attention. The car was once brand new. It is now dented and scratched and probably looks like hell on the inside. Recently I saw him driving around with a house plant in the front seat and a bunch of junk in the back seat. It made me think that perhaps his roommate had finally had enough of his shit and kicked him out. The idea of him being homeless kind of warms my cockles and, if true, would help explain the recent deterioration of his looks (not that he had far to plunge).

He now looks like shit. His hair is too long and scraggly. He has put on weight. His face carries a permanent screwed up expression – like he has just caught a whiff of himself and realizes he needs a flea dip. He’s aging badly and he’s still relatively young (under 40).

For several years, I watched with a mixture of awe and disgust as THAT GUY continued to insert his being into sexual situations he neither created nor contributed to. I tolerated him.

Now I loath him.

We finally had a showdown about four years ago. I was being flattered by the attentions of this really macho bi-sexual, bi-racial dude in a black pick-up truck. He was fucking hot – in a slightly trashy way and I wanted him any way I could have him. I don’t meet many honest to god bi-sexuals (at least not many that will have anything to do with me). But this was the real deal and I was psyched.

We met in the parking lot near a wildflower garden and were eyeing each other. I was aware of the presence of THAT GUY. He was lurking in his car on the other side of the parking lot, watching me interact with the guy in the black pick-up. The guy in the pick-up – we’ll call him Pete – wanted to go park somewhere and have me suck his dick. He then got into his pick up truck and motioned for me to come over for a peek. He unzipped and pulled out a nice fatty – at least nine inches. I was drooling. I would have followed him anywhere. So he suggests that we head over to this other parking lot, near the beach. He takes off and I follow.

So does THAT GUY.

We get to the other parking lot and Pete rolls down his window. He notices THAT GUY and is uncomfortable with the situation. I understand and suggest another place. We go there. So does THAT GUY. This goes on for three more moves to three more parking lots. Finally I get out and recommend that we head out to a different park altogether and tell Pete to take the lead and I will follow.

Pete leaves. I follow. So does THAT GUY (who, by the way, has ignored my glares – I think he may be immune to facial expressions). Pete is doing his best to assure that our destination is not obvious, taking odd side roads. I keep thinking THAT GUY will give up and go haunt someone else, but no. Every time I glance in the rearview mirror, there he is, his pustulant mug glowing behind his windshield. As we approach a stop light, I slow down. I allow Pete to drive through. I then time it so there is absolutely no way that THAT GUY can make it through the light and then I gun through. I figure we are home free and that Pete and I are free to go to our agreed upon spot.

As I am hopping into Pete’s truck, I glance over – and there he is – THAT GUY, across the street in his car. I watch as he pulls over and parks. He is at least 20 yards from us and can’t see a damn thing, but still he sits there. Pete is blissfully unaware. He shoves his jeans to around his ankles and tells me to go for it. So I take a big hit of poppers and have him rock hard in no time. I’m really enjoying it, except I have to keep glancing over my shoulder and out the window to make sure THAT GUY is maintaining his distance. He is. Pete shoots a big, tasty load of baby batter down my throat, zips up and we sit chatting a bit. He talks about his girlfriend and about how rarely he does this sort of thing, blah, blah, blah. But Pete is a charmer and I am still warm from the buzz of his cock down my throat (not to mention the poppers), so I am more than happy to listen to him prattle on. Finally, we part ways.

As I’m walking to my car, I stare daggers in the direction of THAT GUY and, much to my amazement, he takes off. I drive back to one of the parking lots at the other park. Maybe I am thinking about finding another cock or maybe I want to relax until the full effect of the poppers wears off. I park and not more then a minute later, who zooms in? THAT GUY. He’s smart enough to not park next to me. Instead he takes up a position at the end of this circle drive, so his car is at a right angle to my own and he can stare at me from there.

That’s it for me. I back out, go around the circle drive and position my vehicle right behind his, so there is no way for him to back out and zoom away. I get out of my car and walk up to his open driver’s window and crouch down so I’m on his level. I tell him, “Dude. What you are doing is not cool. So knock it off.” He starts making noises like he has no idea what I am talking about. I tell him that his driving is reckless and attracts the wrong kind of attention. I tell him that stalking is not cool and that he is to leave me the fuck alone. I then, dramatically, finish with… “Listen. Do not fuck with me.” I then walk back to my car and drive home.

Given my obvious and stated dislike for THAT GUY… don’t you think he would take the hint?

He has. Sort of. But his behavior hasn’t changed one iota. He now hulks past me on trails and does his best to ignore me when we run into one another when I am alone. But if I happen to be in the middle of something with someone he doesn’t hesitate to insert himself into the mix. WTF? In doing so, he either ruins it for both myself and the other guy, resulting in the other guy walking away – or he ruins it for me. Is that his mission in life? To ruin it for me?

Most recently he inserted himself into a blow job I was giving this cute college guy. This guy always wears a sweatshirt or a t-shirt with the name of his college on it. He’s one of those cute, young, hippy types who ooze patchouli and body musk. He likes me, for some reason – probably because I give great head. So, there I am, working away on college boy, when THAT GUY appears. I try to ignore him. But college boy is intrigued and indulges his presence. So THAT GUY takes this as a sign of approval, approaches, stands behind college boy and proceeds to make a general nuisance of himself (from my POV).

I have yet to tell him off (again). I don’t like making scenes. I feel one should never have to voice the obvious. I resist telling him to get lost, because I’m afraid that the dude I’m with will decide it reflects negatively on me – like I’m some sort of BJ Diva or drama queen. So I hold my tongue (usually in some guy’s ass or wrapped around his tonsils or dick). I ask myself, am I being a wimp? Should I assert my ground, mark my territory? I would, but it’s really not mine to mark. For that is the nature of fucking around in nature – you’re kind of out there for everybody to see and therefore subject to intrusion.

Still, this fact does nothing to abate my disdain for THAT GUY.

I have never mentioned my disdain to any of the other regulars who cruise where I hang out. For me, there exists some unspoken rule regarding the dissing of other nature enthusiasts – you just don’t. Period. Again – the obvious need not be stated. Also, when out on the hunt, talking isn’t exactly what I am there to do. And then again it’s difficult to have a conversation when your mouth is full of cock. So I doubt I will ever say anything.

Instead I will just bitch about it here.

What I really want to know is… does this kind of person happen to anyone else? I can’t be the only one THAT GUY bugs.

And then – there is the very real possibility that for someone else – I AM THAT GUY! Think about it. I hang around the same spots as THAT GUY. I run into the same guys over and over again. Some are semi-regulars, some are competition. I run into guys who have made it very obvious that they want nothing to do with me. The difference is… I respect that. I keep moving. I take ‘no’ for an answer. I also run into guys who are my direct competitors, some whom I have practically taken the meat out of their mouths and to place it in mine.

I’ve found when a newbie comes on the scene I usually have a good shot at scoring. That’s because I go to the gym and keep my hygiene pristine. And I’m a nice guy. Respectful. Sensitive. Aware. So I can see why some of the regulars (who keep letting themselves go) might begrudge my presence. That said, if there is a better looking a guy there… and, trust me, they don’t have to be that great looking to be better looking than me – then the shoe is on the other foot and I am the one pouting in the bushes, snubbed and ignored. Hey – survival of the fittest. What goes around comes around – sometimes in your mouth, sometimes in the mouth of a better looking dude.

I also make it a rule never to follow around a couple once they hook up and seem committed to play with only each other. I never try to insert myself where I am wanted. I can take a hint. There are guys who don’t take the hint. They want to watch. They want to be involved. Me – I almost always take the hint. If someone moves away from me a second time… I walk the other way. Again – common courtesy – because when the shoe is on the other foot – being stalked is annoying.

Of course, there is one guy I know who hates me. But we have a long history and at one time he very much did not hate me. In fact, we were best fuck buds. But now, he not only gives me the cold shoulder. In fact he’s a bit hostile about the whole thing in spite of my attempts to apologize for the things I think he might hate me for. I’ll share that story another time.

Bottom line: I treat others as I want to be treated. I very, very, very rarely make scenes when cruising outdoors. I think I am sensitive to the basic etiquette that the situation requires. That etiquette needs to remain in place, or else nobody has any fun.

And that is what it’s supposed to be all about, right? Fun.

Well, somebody please tell THAT GUY.

He doesn’t seem to get it, and I don’t seem to be able to enlighten him.


Please, don't be THAT GUY.

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