THE HOMEOWNER

Thursday, February 20, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

The Homeowner: GWM seeking connection

By Mike Prevatt

Recently, I have found myself looking at personal ads on the Internet. This isn't terribly divulging, seeing that I've written previously about meeting people this way. But, you see, that was in the past. As in, like, a year ago.

For most of 2002, I stayed away from those sites, if only because I was on a homeowner stomping ground rampage, meeting plenty of guys at bars and cafes and friends' parties. My cell's number list had doubled in just a few months. I was running into people twice in the same week. I was at more homo functions than the Red Bull SUV and the neighborhood meth pusher put together.

Well, I haven't been going to those places so much of late. I'm not sure why. Perhaps on my initial run, I overdid it. Maybe I became jaded once I started erasing most of those new phone numbers, realizing these people either a) had as much in common with me as, say, Nelly, or b) were being disingenuously polite by giving me their number in the first place. It could be I developed into something of a homebody, or got too comfortable with social situations that didn't challenge me enough. In any event, I haven't been meeting anyone new, and I certainly haven't been dating anyone. Something needed to give.

So, I stopped by my profile at gay.com, updated it (by this I mean I added more indie bands to my "inspirations" section, which probably has distanced me further from the Shakira worshipers making up the rest of the website) and posted a new picture. I was so excited by my efforts, I asked an old friend to check it out, see if it might reel in some catches.

"Um, where'd ya get that picture?" she asked. She was referring to a shot I'd recently taken at an amusement park, where I'm giving a plastic replica of a pregnant woman an ultrasound. Now, I didn't choose the pic for my profile picture because I necessarily liked it--although it is pretty hilarious, if I may brag--but because I looked the least unattractive in it.

"Didn't you read the part about what I'm looking for in other guys? Do you think that will appeal to anyone?" I asked.

"Maybe, but that picture won't."

Well, needless to say, the profile remains picture-free (or at least until my face clears up from a recent zit blitzkrieg). This doesn't seem to bode well for me. No one wants to look at a personal without a picture, especially when most of the other ads have them. Time for Plan B.

Admittedly, I've never had much response to any ad I've posted in the past. I'd like to think this was solely because I wasn't advertising myself as a curious college jock with a nine-inch boner, so I didn't sweat it. Instead, I did the responding, by searching through the ads and finding guys who might be my type. (And believe me, the longer you go without dating, the more vague that "type" becomes.)

During one particular late-night search, I found an ad worth answering. He was British, he liked to surf and he was looking for friends, maybe more. His five pics revealed a subtly handsome guy. So, I punched out an introductory note, threw in a couple of innocent flirtations and sent off the e-mail.

I began to get excited about my forthcoming reply. I couldn't wait until our first phone conversation, when I'd get to hear that entrancing English accent. Maybe he'd teach me how to ride the waves, maybe I'd take him to a Coldplay concert and maybe we'd be a happy couple. Things were looking up for once.

Clearly, homeboy was looking for something else, as I never got that reply. So I typed out a new search. This time, there were several more to choose from, but there was always one thing that disqualified them. One smoked. One lived 50 miles away. One wanted someone who was "generous" and could "help with tuition." And another sought a partner who might join him in the rejoicing of His Savior and His impending return to Earth. For fuck's sake, why are all the hotties looking for sugar daddies and Jesus freaks? All I'm asking for is someone with all his teeth, can carry a conversation and shares my hatred for "Absolutely Fabulous." As one consoling friend put it, "Good luck, pal."

Just as I was ready to log off one night last week, I stumbled upon a profile of some young film-tech type, recently transplanted from back East, and looking for friends and such. He had a personal website--and I don't mean the sort with a gallery featuring him, his new Prince Albert and a leather thong--and it showcased all this cool digital imagery and graphic design. There was little text or interpretation of his work, but I was impressed. It said more to me about that person than any profile or picture could. And I really wasn't thinking about compatibility or anything. He just seemed cool.

I opened a fresh e-mail, told the guy I dug his website and how he chose to express himself, and signed off in kind. When I checked my e-mail the next morning, there was mail waiting for me. By the next day, we were instant messaging. I can't say it'll go anywhere, or if we'll even be chatty beyond tomorrow. But it's nice to finally find someone new to connect with. Wish me luck.

The Homeowner appears biweekly. Send your comments, questions and nude pics (especially if you look like Matt Skiba) to oughtabeinporn@yahoo.com.