Shoulda Tapped That

I was reminiscing the other day - openly on Facebook - about the past. More specifically, about romantic opportunities I let get away from me. We've all got them. Those regrets. It's not so much self-pity as it is exasperation. And before you say I shouldn't dwell on the past, I'm a writer. We dwell. If we didn't there wouldn't be anything to write. Good writing comes from experiences. Or the lack of them. Either way, here are a few of my fleeting moments that fleeted away a little too quickly.

Prom Guy - I don't know his name. He was the date of a friend of mine. It had just become scholastic knowledge that I was a gay and my lady friends thought it was the neatest thing since lip gloss. He was seated at the table across from me at prom, and when my gal pals mentioned I was gay, he lit up. He was a cutie. Blond, big smile. I wasn't too versed in flirting. I hadn't had much chance to flirt at my tiny high school in my tiny town. When he and his date got up to get some food he passed behind my chair and gave my shoulder a big squeeze. Nobody else saw it. Nothing happened after that, but it gave me quite a thrill. Waves, my friends. Waves and palpitations. It seems I was purty after all!

Disneyworld Guy - I was at the theme park with my mom. The two of us and my little sister were eating in the castle. (Is that Cinderella's or Sleeping Beauty's? I forget.) Anyway, one of the waiters - not ours, mind you - kept eyeing me. This was senior year in high school, spring break. He had dark hair and wore, as part of his costume, green tights. Booty. Nice. I was getting the prickly hots from his stares, but what could I do? Dessert my mom and sister for a Wild Ride?

Elevator Guy - I was on a family vacay in the Bahamas the summer after my high school graduation. The rest of the family had gone to eat. I was heading back to the room. I was sharing an elevator ride with a massive bodybuilder who kept smiling at me. He had the biggest chest I had yet seen. I didn't know what to do. I knew what I wanted to do, though. When he got off the elevator he gave me a glance as if to say "follow." I wish I had. I've had fantasies about him ever since.

Random College Guy - I was at a fraternity party. Hanover College had slim pickens as far as openly gay students were concerned. At this party, however, there was one skinny little thing, pretty as could be, who followed me all night. He was a sure thing, but that's never been how I work. But my dorm was just two buildings over. Why didn't I, just this once?

College Friend - Let's start with saying, he was very drunk. I walked in the door of the local dive bar (wearing as tight as shirt as I could find) and he embraced me hard with a lusty "Eric!" and bit my right nipple. Right there! It was purple for a week after. A little later he pulled me into the bathroom. He stood there a bit dumbfounded as to what to do next. I had hopes. Sadly, though, he slinked off.

Scuzzy Drunk Guys - Another local bar incident. Different dive bar. I think it was the same shirt, though.Two good ol' boys from town seemed impressed with my arms (and they were impressive at the time). The skinnier one was clearly more impressed. The more footballish one hadn't paid me much attention (he was two-fisting LITs) until the skinny one asked me to flex. Now, I hated flexxing. Always have. But Skinny Guy wouldn't let it go, so I gave in. When I did Football Guy grabbed my bicep (drinks still in hand) and gave it a long, wet lick up its entire length. Full tongue, y'all. His buddy looked in shock. So did he. I bet they had one hell of a conversation the next day if either of them remembered it. Would have been a hot hook up. Hot and dirty!

Qantas Guy - Basically the story can be read in my short "Deacon Decides" in the Dreamspinner anthology Mr Right Now . Hot flight attendant. Legs like tree trunks. This is my biggest regret. Why didn't I follow him to the bathroom?!

Australia Store Clerk Guy - I was shopping at a mall in Sydney with my friends and we stumbled into this trendy little shop for men. The clerk was this hot number with black hair. He watched me with a cocky expression that would have normally put me right off. But for some reason, it didn't this time. It wouldn't have worked out, though. I'm too nice for guys like that. I'm a sensitive boy.

Italian Bouncer - He worked at a nightclub I went to in Italy. Bodybuilder at the door. Muscles from head to toe and, from what I could see, completely hairless. The bald head was so sexy combined with his penetrating stare. I would have wrecked his ass! That is, if I could have ever gotten him away from those skinny little queens who were glaring daggers at me since I entered the place. They were like shadows to the poor piece of meat - er, guy.