Blurring the Lines
I meet him the way I meet all guys—online. His e-mail stands out from the rest because he doesn’t use a name but initials. RC, like the cola. Who goes by that?
The message is short and almost formal. I want to inquire about your services.
As if my ad online doesn’t spell it out. But I get this a lot—guys putting out feelers, curious and interested but not quite ready to commit. For every e-mail I get asking me to pencil in a date and time, I get another three or four with questions. It’s almost like they’re trying to talk themselves into an appointment.
That’s what I call it, an appointment. Like going to the dentist—it’s nothing I really want to do, and if I could avoid it, I would, but I can’t, so I just get it over with as fast as possible. I’m a broke-ass guy in
