Chapter 2 - The Ex, The Promise, The Mormon and Me

After The Drunk, we need to jump forward a few years - Roughly 4 to be precise - Taking me from a niave and closeted 18 year old guy, to a 22 year old with a bit more experience under his belt... But why the flash forward, I hear you ask? There are two reasons, mainly...

Firstly, The Ex.

I can honestly say (or sadly say? happily say?) that there's only one real guy out there who I call 'The Ex', and he knows who he is - The thing is, the majority of you out there know who he is too; We move in the same circles, the same industries, and have a ridiculous 126 friends 'in common' on Facebook...

...And it's for these reasons I won't disclose the ins and outs of our relationship - Simply know that things were never the same after The Ex, despite best efforts, and know there are always two sides to every story...

Secondly, The Promise.

There is a man, whose memory I still hold close and dear to me. I promised him a long time ago that I would never disclose our story - and I am a man of my word.
Strength and Honour, mate...

So moving on...

Four or so years later - I was single again... Living back at mum and dads house with two rooms to myself and a computer... It was here, that I discovered the incredible world of Internet Dating.

The incredibly sad, scary, funny, depressing, exciting and strange world... of Internet Dating.

Again, I was alone in trying to work all this out by myself... What on earth do you put on your profile? Which picture should I use? Do I seriously have to list the size of my dick? Top? Bottom? Versatile? Should I be worried that guy has "flamed" my profile? What the fuck is CBT? Is NSA-NRR a good thing?

It was insane - And within a week of setting up my profile, I had recieved several offers to meet other guys ranging from a young 18 year old afraid to tell his parents he was gay to a 60 year old guy who wanted to treat me to a night in a hotel...

I settled on a guy a couple of years older than me - Mark.
Mark and I struck up conversation via msn, and chatted back and forth for a few days before I finally struck up the courage to ask him if he wanted to 'catch up for a drink'

"Busy Sunday?" I typed into the chat window.
"I am in the morning..." he responded immediately "...But free in the afternoon onwards!"

So we arranged to catch up... "Drinks and a movie..."
Seemed harmless enough... right?

Mark seemed like a cool guy - He even wrote music! On discovering this, he asked if I'd like to hear one of his songs, which of course I jumped at the chance... The MP3 file came through msn smoothly, and I hit play... The song was entitled "My Sacred Heart", and reminded me immediately of a badly remixed Enigma song.

"What do you think?" He typed...
"Wow, it's great!" I lied... "

BUT - Out of the ridiculous selection of men who had messaged me that week - He appeared the 'most normal'. Nice enough looking judging from the profile pics he had on his internet profile, and sadly (and something I still believe about internet dating) he seemed to be the "best option" out of what I had to choose from at the time...

I clicked stop on My Sacred Heart.

"Meet at my house at 4pm?" He asked
"Sounds perfect..." I replied "Catchya then..."

I was terrified.

What if he was lying? What if Mark was actually a crazy fuck who kept a dead body under his bed and a collection of defaced porcelain dolls in his fridge? You hear occasionally about guys who are found dead in the parklands - He only lived TWO BLOCKS from there...

Sunday rolled around quickly before I knew it, and I found myself sitting out the front of his apartment. This is it - My first 'date' with a guy I met off the internet - Was I about to become a statistic? Giving myself a quick check over in the reflection of my car window, I walked up through the front garden of his apartment block and knocked on his screen door.

Kylie was playing.

God, I wanted to die.

He answered the door, and to my relief looked relatively like he had in the pictures he had sent me... Boy next door type, a bit taller than me, sandy crop of dusty looking hair...

We exchanged greetings and I walked into his lounge room - A well kept place that smelt like he'd just finished vacuuming... There was a Smashing Pumpkins poster block mounted on his wall - He had been playing Golden Eye on his N64... It was on pause.

After brief, nervous introductory banter, he offered to get me a drink... This is where I die, I thought: He drugs the water and I pass out and wake up buried alive in a box under a sand dune in West Beach. I declined the drink, and moved to the couch for a chat - The plan was to eat... and see a movie.

Somehow, what could only be described as minutes later, Mark was on top of me on the carpet grinding his hips into me and kissing my ear... badly.

Kylie was singing The Locomotion. You gotta swing your hips now...
I wasn't into it.

"Should we head off?..." I asked, obviously awkwardly. "We won't have time for dinner..."
He stopped mid-lick. "Really..."
"Yeah..." I struggled for words. "Hungry...?"
Christ, I wanted to melt into the floor.
Mark stood up, grabbing his hard-on through his jeans "What about...."
"Later..." I smiled, as my head screamed NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

He didn't stop his Kylie CD - And with Golden Eye still paused on his N64, we left for dinner...

Sitting in the restaurant, I had a distinct feeling that Mark wasn't enjoying himself... I know I wasn't - And hence, I learnt my first lesson about Internet Dating.
On the internet - It's not conversation... it's chat.
On the internet - There's no awkward silence.
In reality things are different...

The conversation went from bad, to worse.
"So, you meet many guys off the internet?" I asked casually.
"No..." he replied "...Actually, you're the first one"
My intuition kicked in strongly - He was lying - I let it slide.
"Really?" I continued "Wow... Lucky me"
Silence. The clinking of our cutlery on the plates was deafening me...
He put down his fork to grab his glass of water "Yes. You're a test."
I laughed, thinking he was leading into a joke. "A test?"
"Yes..." he looked me in the eye "Im testing my faith in God"

I stopped eating mid mouthful, my fork poised halfway to my lips "Faith... in God?"

"Yes." He replied. It was almost like he was daring me to laugh.
"Are you joking?" I stuttered. I suddenly had images of a crazed preacher cursing the devil out of my seriously unclean and besmirched soul...
"No. Im Mormon"
I placed my fork down on my plate. "Shut up, nice one..." I laughed. I hoped.
"Do you think it's funny?"
"Yes..." I paused. No reaction. "I mean... No?"

Honestly, I didn't know what to think - Suddenly I was kicking myself for not checking his fridge for those headless porcelain dolls. He seemed gay enough... Kylie... not to mention the hard-on he managed to maintain in his lounge room... I mean he even wrote music that sounded like Enigma... So far all signs pointed to Yes, but apparently now I 'was test' - Like an Amazing Race challenge, but gayer.

Oh my god... Music titled My Sacred Heart...
Busy Sunday morning, free in the afternoon...
It all suddenly made sense...

"You're not kidding..." I stated. It wasn't a question.
"No... I believe if I can get through this, then it brings me closer to God" he smiled. Serenely.

Now I should point out, dear readers, that I do not have a problem at all with a religious man. In fact, I admire a man with faith. It shows strength. Conviction. Hell, it even indicates he's not afraid of commitment... Sure, I happen to err more on the 'spiritual side' than perhaps The Mormon would have liked to hear - But the fact he was was describing me as 'a test' suddenly put the fear of God in me...

I was suddenly very aware of the restaurant we were sitting in - He was drinking water - Could Mormons drink alcohol? Soft Drink? He was eating a Salad... was eating meat evil? I looked at my half eaten steak and suddenly felt like a complete heathen - A blemish on the face of Gods green earth - And I wasn't even sure if I was being religously accurate.

But the panic button had been well and truly pushed.

I looked at my watch "The movies gonna start soon... Shall we?"
Again, my head screamed NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

Reluctantly, I turned off the rational, ranting side of my brain and we headed into the movie together in silence.

No touching.
No awkward, lingering hands.
At one stage the damsel in the movie kissed her hero - I awkwardly wondered if he thought it was wrong for a woman to display such outward and dirty feelings so openly - Then I flashbacked to him grinding me on his loungeroom floor and I quietly told myself to stop being so ridiculous. Whether or not I was a test, this guy was gagging for cock.
Just under the watchful eye of our Lord and Father.

I grabbed my phone and sms'd my wingman: Im in a movie with a mormon. Im a test. Im the devil. Abort Abort Abort.

My wingman delivered immediately - The "Excuse SMS" sent through - My brother needed me to pick him up. I was saved. And not by God.

Mark and I parted awkwardly - Did he pass his test? I wondered if he talked about me in confession. Did Mormons even HAVE confession? I wondered if he was wearing his mormon underwear while we were out... I didn't see a black suit, or even a bicycle while I was at his house... Was I just another rung on his spiritual ladder to climb closer to God?

Who knows...

What I did know though, was that I'd jumped the first hurdle and cleared it pretty easily... I'd met my first guy from The Internet... so things can only get easier, right?

....right?