I apologize for my absence, I was experiencing a bit of writer's block...well it was really a bit more of a dry spell. My dating life, or lack thereof, had started to flatline without any excitement in sight. My Pretty Woman-esque proposition topped off at $1600, and it has been awhile since I've brought a grown man to tears, so clearly I've not had much else to talk about.
I was beginning to worry that my blog, like my dating life, was teetering on the verge of becoming stagnant and forgotten about. And then there was Steeplechase.
This past weekend marked the 70th running of the Iroquois Steeplechase. Of course, I had my paisley print shirt and tricked out hat ready to go. Any event that is geared toward preppy, pretentious people who are clad in pastel, paisley, and plaid (try saying that 3 times fast) sipping on Mint Juleps is right up my alley. Surely, if not a Spartan Football game, this would be the prime setting to meet my future ex.
To get a few things straight; Steeplechase is not so much about the actual horse race, but instead more of a venue to get drunk and people watch. Along with people watching comes checking out attractive guys who look as though they stepped out of the pages of a J.Crew catalog...my cup of tea. The fine group of folks I was hanging out with were much more into the drinking and people watching aspect of the day, and I am fairly convinced that most of them were completely unaware of the actual horse race that was also taking place. Imagine Steeplechase as being more of a male meat market with horses in the background, than an actual sporting event. Picking out the homos or those questioning their sexuality really is not all the difficult at such an event. Not all men are chomping at the bit to dress in colors of those found on an Easter egg. And truth be told, I may or may not have struck up a casual conversation with multiple gentleman in Easter egg colors as I was waiting in line for the porta-potty.
The day continued on, and while I was having a grand time judging people from afar...no one really spiked my interest enough worth approaching. I made a few laps around the grounds, sipped my Mint Juleps courtesy of a certain Mr. B, and mostly kept to myself. Of course the Cacophony of Gays I was with provided enough entertainment on their own, so I really did not have to work too hard to have an enjoyable time. I always had a drink in my hand and plenty of eye candy to gawk at, what more could I ask for?
It was not until after race day had ended and I returned home did any action result from Steeplechase. I received the following email from someone who allegedly spotted me.
"Hi I think I seen you on saturday at steeple chase. I am a very nice person and yes I LOVE guys. I am short and feisty but only when I need to be and I am not looking for a hook up so don't expect anything like that from me. I know I ain't the pertiest thing or do I have abbs but I am very sweet and kind and have a huge heart. I like guys with muscles and are tall but not a requirement. Just be compassionate and thoughtful and we'll get along. Don't typically like guys over 35 unless ur rich...and don't like guys heavier than me. fat that is."
Of course I had to check out his profile, perhaps maybe I spotted him as well. He very well could have been one of the strapping lads of the 5'11"-6'2", 20-something year old, dark hair, dark eyed variety that I had made a mental note of. If that were the case, I could probably do my best to overlook the glaringly obvious typos that littered his shallow email. My hopes and fantasies were suddenly crushed to bits as soon as I got a look at his stats. Of course he was NOT one of the strapping lads I had noticed from Steeplechase. Instead he was 19...5'5"...and 215 lbs. In my opinion, Weebles are more height/weight proportionate than this kid...and a Weeble was exactly what I was picturing. I actually didn't recall seeing him at all, and apparently my Weeble repellent was not working that day.
I politely replied that he was a bit too...young (among other things)...for me. He then said:
"Are you rich, becuase people who have money go there. Want to hang with you sometime if ur cool with it cuz you looked real hot"
I was quite flattered that he assumed I must be rich, and noticed that I looked hot. However, I was really not interested in furthering the conversation, and I'm actually not cool with hanging. It's just my luck that a J.Crew model did not spot me at Steeplechase, but instead the complete opposite had. With summer quickly approaching, I need to figure out how to catch the attention of the J.Crew type while completely avoiding the Weeble type, and frankly, I'm screwed if Weebles wobble but they don't fall down.