Thursday was Kelly Clarkson's turn to sing the Star-Spangled Banner at the 2017 Stanley Cup Playoffs.
“Being with another man makes you aware of your own anatomy in a new way,” he said, and I nodded, taking another bite of my apple pie. He tasted a flavor called Sue’s Snickers, and I said, “What does it taste like?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about dating a man who also slept with men—I spent much of the next two weeks kicking it around in my head—but it was definitely not your run-of-the-mill first date conversation. Don’t say Snickers.” And he said, “Okay, it tastes like Sue.” I laughed so loud that it startled the woman behind the counter, and I thought in that moment that the bisexuality thing was fine. In my 20s, I dismissed men for such minutiae: listening to the wrong music, wearing the wrong socks.
Last week, all 30 NFL teams that played Sunday and Monday showed some form of protest or solidarity during the national anthem.
The Cowboys were the first to kneel as a team prior to the singing of the anthem Monday night, but stand arm-in-arm during it.
I sat at a Starbucks near the Galleria with a friendly, fit black man (I’m white) who was recently divorced and lived in The Colony, which sounded to me like some eerie sci-fi TV drama. But he didn’t contact me again, and I never knew why. I was a real adult, a grown-ass woman, and he was in that shaky place where you have just emerged from the long tunnel of commitment with wobbly legs and blinking eyes, and you need to go bang 25-year-olds for a while.
He told me he liked the show , the unofficial bible for polyamorists, endorsed by “Savage Love” columnist Dan Savage.
They were walking with God and loving the Cowboys and reading . I had met one extravagant phony in that time, but he was such a good story that I didn’t mind. I might not find love, but, hey, maybe I’d get to know Dallas better.
They’ll make someone a good boyfriend one day, just not me. And for all my groaning about the city’s men, the guys I met were not the same old stereotype.
I got mad at a guy in college because he liked porn. But I was young, and I was righteous, and I couldn’t forgive any man for failing to be John Cusack (who probably also likes porn). For all my groaning about the city’s men, the guys I met were not the same old stereotype.
D., just moved here from Portland, don’t believe in the gender binary. You never know who is going to lunge from the bushes and throw a canvas bag over your heart.
“It’s my favorite place in Dallas, because it’s all different types.” Gay couples. The woman next to her at the bar wore a tank top, jean cut-offs, and boots.