Finding the Jewish Boyfriend Within

I’d like to preface this story by saying that going to bars alone is a fresh skill that I have only reluctantly developed as a result of moving to a new city for six weeks.  But it has so grown on me.  Sure, the first half of the night usually involves the following:

  • General awkwardness
  • Irrationally strong feelings of jealousy and/or hatred directed at people who have friends
  • Frightening premonitions of future cat-lady status

But then you get approached by a hot guy and life is suddenly worth living again.  You just have to suck on the sour to get to the sweet — like eating a lemon drop or performing oral sex as a means of receiving it later.

  • Note: all names mentioned herein have been changed to protect privacy.

So Friday night — it was the start of my last weekend in Nashville, and I found myself back at the gay bar where I met the blogged-about older hottie Martin over two weeks ago.

This time around, I ended up meeting Charley — an adorable and deliciously muscled all-American looking guy whom I typically would’ve melted for upon first contact.  However, it soon became apparent that he was drunk off his ass.  At 11:00 pm.  This threw me for a loop, as people generally don’t start slurring their words until at least midnight in New York.  This isn’t to say we don’t get drunk at all hours of the day — we’re just able to disguise it by forming whole sentences.

I was completely sober while talking to Charley.  The result was an excruciatingly uncomfortable conversation that needed to end as soon as possible.  In an effort to get him to lose interest, I turned off my charm and avoided eye contact.  It didn’t work, which I’ll go ahead and construe as evidence that I’m irresistible.

Eventually, Donna — his sassy Southern wing-woman — showed up and started rambling on about some Australian guy she was sexting with.  I feigned the urge to pee and excused myself.

As I took the long, around-the-entire-square-footage-of-the-establishment-twice way to the restrooms, I was secretly hoping to run into Martin, whom I hadn’t heard from since I responded negatively to a booty call text he sent two days after we met.  A part of me was aware of how pathetic it was to fantasize about running into him, but the other part of me wanted to get all up in his face and yell, “If we had gone on at least three dates and participated in a joint STD screening over the past two weeks, maybe we’d be sleeping together tonight!  Your loss, a-hole!!!”

It’s probably a good thing that he never showed up.

I started looking around for more potential suitors.  Only two people were catching my eye:

  • A shirtless bartender with a strangely endearing Luigi ‘stache who slightly resembled a founding member of the Village People
  • A lesbian who was wearing the same outfit as me

I decided to keep to myself.  For a moment, I became suddenly aware of the absurdity of the fact that I ended up at this bar yet again despite my staunch inability to sleep with strangers.  Then I ordered another beer and got back to scanning the room for hotties.

A basic lack of man-candy made my mind begin to wander.  My internal dialogue:

  • I miss 90’s Mariah so much.
  • I think I want Indian food for lunch tomorrow.

Before I could finish my next thought (which I’m pretty sure involved veggie samosas), a now-even-drunker Charley reappeared out of the freakin’ blue.  Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand and led me to a secluded area outside the women’s restroom.  The following bizarre exchange then occurred:

  • Me: “What’s up?”
  • Charley (directs my attention to his right bicep, which he’s now flexing): “And I’ve never even done porn.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this unsolicited declaration.  Charley broke the silence by going in for a (ridiculously sloppy) kiss.  My sobriety was making this whole situation feel about as natural as heterosexual intercourse, so I immediately pulled away.

  • Charley: “Why are you pulling away from me?”
  • Me: “I don’t know… I feel guilty… Umm.  I’m Jewish.”

Random, irrelevant, and oh — totally a lie.  Though I do sometimes get mistaken for being Jewish, I’m actually Italian and Catholic.

I know a lot of people get a kick out of lying to strangers at bars, but honestly, I had never engaged in the activity until this very moment.  If I were ever to premeditate a spicy bar alter-ego, I doubt I’d go with with real-me-except-Jewish.

In any case, he proceeded to share that he loves Jewish boys.  Some sick part of me must have been loving the attention, because I suddenly heard myself saying things like:

  • “Yeah, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to celebrate Christmas, but then I remember how awesome Hanukkah is.”
  • “Oh, Israel?  I’ve totally been there.  I spent two months on a kibbutz last summer, and it changed my life!”

I was just about to share some of my awesome bar mitzvah memories with him when Donna emerged from the bathroom and matter-of-factly said — in the Paula Deen-iest of accents, mind you — “It’s time to leave.  Y’all are going home together.  K?”

The fact that she’s a horrible friend won’t be discussed, as this post is already too long.

To easily get out of the situation without having to explain myself, I invented a New York boyfriend and apologetically told them about him — “He’s perfect for me and I just don’t want to mess it up.  It’s not worth it.  I’m sorry.”

And then I left.

After reflecting on it over an episode of Sex and the City and a Fiber One bar, I believe there may be an allegorical quality to this whole made-up boyfriend situation.  Perhaps he is representative of my true self.  Or the dreamboat ER doctor that I mentioned here, who’s still waiting for me to stumble into his life.

Either way, it’s time to go back to New York and find him.


  1. Get it, Nick!

  2. A few thoughts:

    a) I really think that “I miss 90s Mariah” and “I want Indian buffet” were the 2nd and 3rd most used phrases on your visit here. The 1st being: “OMG if there isn’t any sex AGAIN in this True Blood episode I’m going to be PISSED” (Valid)

    b) I don’t believe you didn’t bring me to Tribe to be YOUR Sassy Southern wing-woman. Do over!

    • LMAO! Thought “a)” is the most accurate thing I’ve ever read.

      Thought “b)” makes me want to cry, just thinking about the awesomeness that would have taken place if we had realized this!

      P.S. — first real-world-friend comment EVER! Also, checkout is in 20 minutes and I haven’t moved from the hotel room bed.

  3. 1. I love that you were watching Sex & the City. Totally spent my afternoon catching up with the girls today.
    2. You have ridiculous (in the best possible way) stories that I love to read.
    3. I had Indian food for lunch today and it was the most amazing buffet of awesome.

    I’m still waiting for the dreamboat of my life to waltz in, but until then, I get to deal with the crazies and the ex-boyfriends with less self esteem than Jan Brady.

    • Hahaha — seriously, we are 98% the same person, with a mere 2% accounting for gender. Lol. Thanks so much for the awesome comment darlin’!

  4. I was making notes of my favorite parts of this post to mention in my comments but found I was writing down the entire post… *down on knees bowing to your awesomeness* I’M NOT WORTHY TO FOLLOW YOU!!

    • Omg — imagine my pure delight to get home after driving 900 miles and finding this amazing comment!!! Thanks so much for the props. The fact that you referred to me as awesome pretty much makes you one of my top 3 favorite people ever — an elite list that now consists of Mariah Carey, Oprah, and you.

  5. This was hilarious! I’ve been looking for a writer with your style of humor for a while now. Found it! You have a new fan 🙂

  6. This post was so ridiculously awesome that words cannot adequately express it. It also made me miss you a ridiculous amount — let’s go to Bartini together when you’re back in the city so you won’t have to feel awkward, jealous, or frightened. I want to hear loads of stories. 🙂

  7. I read this blog entry yesterday. Had to abruptly leave before I got to post a comment, and now when I’m back, I’m still laughing. You are so damn awesome I want to hang out with you sometime. Shame I’m not a hottie of the opposite sex. Nah, just kidding haha!

    But seriously, I hope you return to the gay bar soon. You get some amazing stories out of it hahaha!

    • LOL — I bet we’d have a blast hanging out in real life! It will be interesting to see what kind of stories I get out of my gay bar experiences now that I’m back up north and there will be other people involved. I might have to start going alone sometimes just to allow for more interaction with strangers resulting in ridiculous stories, haha.

      P.S. thanks so much for this amazing comment, you’re the awesome one! 🙂

  8. ummmm I have to say you lied once at industry … remember how we were navy boys during fleet week?

    • OH MY WORD. True, but that was moreso me tacitly complying with a lie, whereas this incident involved me conjuring one up all on my own!

  9. I like the immediate connection you made between feeling guilty and being Jewish haha

    Great post! Reminds me why I don’t really do gay bars very well…

    • Haha thanks! And yeah — while I love the concept of a gay bar, we as a people have squandered their potential and turned them into these treacherous places that warrant a verbose blog post for each trip taken.

      • The only thing I’ve taken away from them is that last time I went, the nice gentleman at the bar gave me a free whiskey and told me I was cute.
        While I appreciate an unwarranted compliment and free drink as much as the next person, it’s hardly Stonewall, ya know?

  10. I am so happy that you stopped by my scrabble post or I would have never found you…and I am so happy I did…cuz dude, your freakin hilarious, for real yo…
    Oh…and some people say I resemble Mariah Carey…except I am poor.

    • Thanks so much for reading and calling me hilarious! Between that and the fact that you unabashedly take Scrabble shortcuts, I love you already. Props to Sharon for leading me to you!

  11. Loved it! Where did you get this sense of humour from? You make me want to be George Clooney. 😉

    For the record, if I were a man, I would totally go on at least three dates and participate in a joint STD screening over two weeks, and hope you would sleep with me tonight! Even if you were Jewish…

    Write soon.

  12. thunderjunk says:

    I often pretend to be Jewish but only to avoid eating foods that aren’t kosher. Or were made by people who look like they prepare food without washing there hands after using the toilet. This works well at my jobs frequent pot lucks. Most of my coworker are mexicants and just assume everything they eat is bad for Jews.

  13. Nick, another awesome post! I love reading your stories, I feel like I’m there with you. So sorry you had such a crummy bar night 😦 , but at least it’s a great post!!! I laughed out loud multiple times while reading this; I too miss 90s Mariah. Vision of Love, Someday, MAKE IT HAPPEN. Why did she turn trashy? 😦 😦
    Keep up the good work compadre. 😉

    • Thanks so much that awesome feedback, darlin’! And umm… those Mariah tunes are my JAMS!!! Oh my gosh, I think I have to go pop in her self-titled debut album right now.

      • holy s***, I love every single track of that tape. That’s right. It was one of my first tapes. Oh my god, “love takes time, to heal when you’re hurting so much” ……. right back to middle school, damn.

  14. If deep throat catches me reading gay blogs im cooked…good one..


  1. […] and tried to quell the awkwardness by telling him a totally false, convoluted story about how I’m Jewish and sober and spent two months on a kibbutz in Isreal and couldn’t sleep with…, and the whole situation somehow led to the discovery that maybe I didn’t hate New York after […]

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