Semantics

Semantics is the fuel that fires every argument in human history. From buying the wrong milk to missing curfew, it all boils down to semantics. Nothing is ever trickier when it comes to relationships of the carnal kind then how you say something and not what you say.  I was once hanging out with a guy who said "You are the only one I'm dating right now". Holy Shit. How in the hell did I get here? I thought I was watching NBA playoffs with a dude and some of my friends. Now all of a sudden I'm dating him. What drastic left turn did I make?  I thought I said "Do you want to come to a bar and get drunk and watch basketball?" Somehow that was interpreted as ‘you are my boyfriend’. I must admit I noticed the sign earlier, but chose to ignore them.   I'm gay and more importantly I'm OUT. We were hanging out and I mused about how some chick was cute and he began to get pissy. I didn't really understand what could be misinterpreted. I'm a pretty blunt person. I have begun to realize that this is my downfall. Most people don't believe what I literally just said to them because they are not used to someone being so frank. I once told a guy in front of his sister there would never be a reason on earth that I would ever date her [post forth coming].  Later, she actually said to me, “I thought you liked me because you told my brother you wanted to date me." Semantics.

I often end up in the mire of semantics quicksand. So much so, I have begun to assess blame. It's me.  It has to be. I became fully aware that the impetus was on me when this happened: I used to go to Cattyshack in the Slope to watch The L Word on Sundays because copying the episodes from my international friends was becoming precarious [read: highly illegal]. When I say I went to the Shack to watch The L Word, I mean I arrived at the bar at 9:59pm and by 10:50pm my tab was paid and I was waiting for the R train.  I met this girl named Melissa there.  Given my in and out approach, it was fairly obvious I had no intentions upon hitting on anyone there, but Melissa persevered in her persistence to talk to me. We became friends. I always give the "I don't date disclaimer". Melissa said it was cool and we continued to hang out and meet up at the Shack to watch the show. It started to get weird when I met up with some friends at our favorite sports bar while I was with Melissa. Melissa went to the bathroom and my friend says "Hey, what's up with that girl? She thinks you are her gf".  I responded "Why in the hell would she think I'm her gf?"  To which my friend countered "You don't notice how she is around you?" I was oblivious to all of this because I paid Melissa no mind and I had given her the God Damn no dating disclaimer. Then it all started to come together.  Like the time in her car she told me her ex gf was Hispanic – her way of telling me she doesn't just date white girls. Hmmm, ok, so was mine. 

The situation culminated when she called me and asked me to meet her at the bar an ungodly hour early.  When I got there, I met a panicked Melissa, worrying that she had been late. I told her to relax and asked her what was up with this impromptu meeting. This is what she said "Well, I wanted to tell you that I'm thinking about doing a photography internship in Houston.” Quizzical looks by me for 15 seconds then, "That's great Melissa. Sounds awesome. When do you leave?"  Then . . . "Well, I leave in 3 weeks unless  . . . you know . . . you know don't you?" I'm trying to avoid landmines here. "Cool, we should hang out before you leave. I know what?" This is when she got really close to me and says "Well, I wouldn't go to Houston if you know…. you know I like you right?" That's when I lost my patience.  I said "Melissa no. You should go to Houston. It would be great for you and you know I do not do dating so that's not going to happen." And with a grasp of the very last straw she said, “Well, I just thought….."  Mmmmm, "No Melissa.”  Needless to say, The L Word was very awkward that night.