The Slow Mood Movement

I am going to try to express this as generally as possible. But at the risk of being a bloggy loudmouth about my own life, I have to tell you a story and get your assessment jus so i can make sure i am not crazy.

I met this guy last week (we will call him X) and invited him to come to my friends birthday party. He came, we got to talking to other people, and near the end of the night, he left with some other guy.

(we will this other guy "LL" for LOUD LOSER because he was one, and I am not just being jealous. He was loud and told stupid jokes like "How do you get a gay guy to sleep with a woman? You shit in her cunt!" Ha ha how funny.)

The most irritating part was that I had to stand there when X was out of the room and LL would come up to me and X's friend and say "god he is SO hot!!" And i had to stand there in the grey area i always seem to dwell in, not really at a level where i can say "well he came with ME" and i have to stand there and just wonder if he IS with me or not. I dont know if i can express to you the loose, minor yet interpretable gestures that X had made to me the week before. Enough phone calls, texts and friendly messages to make me feel like it was alright of me to buy some emotional stock and make an investment, however cautious and new yorky and small, in seeing him again. At one uncomfortable point in the party,I was standing there with X, LL and X's friend, and we got to talking about the next day...X was supposed to come with me the next day to this function (don't you love my generalizations?). LL says "Well you can just borrow some of my clothes when you roll out of bed and get there, huh huh." When he said that I still, STUPIDLY had some small notion that X would laugh it off.

But he didnt. He left, and right before he did i stopped him..."Are you going home with that guy?" i asked, "Yes i am" he said (you have to admire his honesty at least) and I said, "well that makes me sad..." He looked all apologetic and sorry. I felt myself once again apart from the world...those times in my life when something hurtful happens to you and everything seems soft and unreal...like the fuzzy insides of a pillow, soft, seemingly comfortable snow, things that look relaxing like drunkenness or near-blindness.

Of course the next day all my friends are there to call me and talk about it, bless their hearts. My friend Paul said, jokingly, well remember, "ABC -- Always Be Closing"...he was jokign but once again iw as chilled to the bone, thinking GOD why is love and anything emotionally permanent so tied up with competition and marketing and the FUCKING MARKET. Why do i need to go out with the mind of a real estate or stock broker to find love?

Of course didnt call X to go the next day, to this event. But on the way home from this aformentioned function (a Moveon.org call-in for the midterm elections) i was walking through brooklyn with my Underminer, who said, "Well you DO have a tendency to bring guys you like to social engagements with you." Of course after my U rolled off on his bike, I was stoned and walking so I dwelled and dwelled on the thought about this. O

Is it wrong of me somehow to want someone to exert just a tiny bit of self control and direct their desire towards me at a party? Like is it so outstandingly wacky of me to want someone to keep it in their pants in a room of 30 gays? Because to me a party is just a microcosm of the world and how am I supposed to feel any BASIC AFFINITY towards ANYone if they cant, for 2 hours, restrain themselves from GOING HOME with someone else EVER, since the larger world is, in this equation basically the the 30 gay tempters in that room to the 120th power???

I feel completely wrong for this chopped up era. I don't have the towel-snappy energy. I can't Day Trade for Love. You know the Slow Food Movement? I want there to be a movement that just lengthens focus. That centers around artisinal products like lingering, patient handiwork, hanging behind, asking someone if they want something to drink, saying "I'll be right back," curing meat in a smokehouse, putting your hand on someone's hips when you pass by them, grabbing the neck, making sure, a quiet build, A Slow Mood Movement.