#my chad

[art-from-within]

MY GOAT MY GOAT

MY GOOAAAAAAATTTTTT

SIR ANSBACH THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

[lesslonelycanadian]

Genuine heartbreak , I feel when i'm reading a good fic and they decide to be racist and change chads name

Like it genuinely such a problem in this racist ass famdom

talk about tokenization

[awkwardexperiencesdating]

My Chad

We’ll call this boy Chad.

I’m at a Denny’s on a Wednesday night, hosting a gathering of a religious gay men in the area. I hate hosting gatherings. Yet, somehow, I’m deemed one of the “good ones” and asked* to introduce a young man who has recently come out to himself to some of the other guys in the area so he can have support. (Spoilers: I myself never talk to this man again after this, only occasionally seeing his FB or Instagram posts and receiving the rare “like” from him). 

It’s turned in to a bigger thing than I initially planned as one guy has decided to take this opportunity to bring a few other guys with him who he thinks could benefit from this social gathering of pie eating and chit chat. One of these extra guys seems to be very focused on me. He, like everyone else at the table, has a name.

“Hey, I’m Chad. Chadwick for short,” he says, introducing himself. I give him a scrunched up face, the kind typically given by petulant 8th grade boys, because what he just said is stupid yet strangely endearing. 

He sees my confusion and begins to explain the joke. Continuing to give him 8th grade boy look I tell him “No, I. I got it. I got it.”

It’s his “-ism” and he sticks to it, introducing himself to everyone else the same way. He is 30, has some blond scruff, and dresses like your average boy next door casual republican with jeans that should fit him nicer (but don’t) and a plaid shirt. I will later figure out that this is the majority of his wardrobe.

Chad Chadwick-for-short looks at me a lot, hanging on to my every word. Somehow I am (mostly) effortlessly charming during 90% of this event. This often happens when I’m not consciously trying to impress a boy. Chad is cute, but I think nothing of his direct gazes because many men in this gaggle of gays choose not to date (or say they don’t but have random NCMOs--non committal make outs--and feel hella guilty after) and I figure he won’t make a move. I am wrong. I am often wrong.

After the event I friend Chad on Facebook. The next morning he accepts the request and immediately sends me a Facebook message.

Chad: It was good meeting you the other night. I’d like to get to know you better. Would you be open to getting together for a meal?

Me: Yeah yeah yeah! Sounds good to me.

Chad: Tonight? I’m pretty free.

This never happens. No boy has ever been this free for me. We settle on six. He asks me my favorite restaurant. (Who is this guy and why is he in to me?) Naturally, we get pizza.

Dinner is good, conversation is fantastic. He pays. He still wants to talk and hang out, having the free time. So we decide to star gaze. We drive up the canyon to a park that’s empty. We get out. I know what’s going to happen. We look at the stars. I know what’s going to happen, the air is thick with desire. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. Holy shit I know what’s going to happen, the tension is thick with desire, this guy is cute, and he’s in to me.

He looks at me. He goes in, and we kiss. Later that night he will send me this message:

Chad: I’m walking on air. Thanks for a memorable experience ;)

His tongue is large and I feel like I’m going to choke on it every time we make out. We last a week.

More later on that week long makeout session.

*I have yet to be repaid for this request. Jimmy, oh Jimmy. Silly boy. You owe me for forcing me outside of my comfort zone.