SwingBot: Hollow Date

In early December 2015, SwingBot went on an actual sex-might-happen date without me! The following is his description of what happened.

I travel for work, and recently I ended up in Austin, TX. While there, I went out on a date with a guy I know from the Internets (and when I say “a guy I know,” I mean “a guy who has sent me pics of his ginormous 23 year old cock”). It went… well, I didn’t get any, but I DID get to experience the life of a hot twenty-something by proxy!

We started out the night by going out for burgers. The place we went to, Hopdoddy’s, was crazy packed, and that was a “short line” night, according to the staff. While we stood in line, a woman came through and took our orders while we worked our way toward the registers, as happens in such places sometimes. This fact becomes important later.

The food was great, and the conversation was mostly about gay bars and drag shows in the area. We decided to go downtown to the gay bar district to see what was up. When we left, though, one of the servers came running out behind us. She was a friend of the woman who took our order and, well, she REALLY wanted to give my date her number, so maybe they could hook up for coffee?

(Side note: They’re hooking up for coffee on Monday.)

Now, to be clear, this guy is pretty damned hot, I admit. And, yes, I’m 17 years older than he is, so there’s every chance they thought he was just a nice young man taking his dad out for burgers. But I watched him the whole time. He didn’t flirt, he didn’t wink, and he didn’t use any mind control powers. I’m fairly certain the extent of his interaction with this amour was: “Primetime,” “Fries,” and “Coke.”

(Side note: I had exactly the same interaction, but I asked for my burger to be well done, which I am sure is the only reason I didn’t get her number, too. Clearly, I’m just too controlling.)

So, afterward, we went downtown to the gay bars. At Rain, the guy was nice enough to pretend to card us both. At Oil Can Harry’s, they just waved me through with a, “Come on in, mate.” Both places are really nice, and the whole district is one of the nicest I’ve found (and I used to work in Capital Hill, so…). We watched a very fun Drag Bingo game with White Elephant style prizes (and they were pretty awesome prizes, considering bingo cards were free!), but the real show happened on the floor when we walked around.

As he led the way through the bars, I — a few feet behind him — was in a good position to see all the staring he attracted. It was like he was meat thrown in the lions’ den. Or maybe bears’ den, in this case. Eyes followed him as he moved through the crowd, accompanied by hungry expressions hidden behind surreptitious sips of alcoholic beverages. Those expressions turned ugly though, when they realized I was clearly following him. Who was I? Bodyguard? Parol officer? More likely just some creeper! I’m pretty sure a few people thought themselves guardian angels, ready to take me down if I made a grab for him. I like to think that they were just jealous, because, unlike them, I already knew what his dick looks like.

I am, alas, far too old to be staying out at gay bars until two in the morning, so right around midnight, we headed out. As I dropped him off at his place and started back to my hotel, I started formulating the lies I would tell to various people to make it sound like an epic romp through Austin, but now, in the cold light of the morning after, it seems the truth is too great to NOT share.