Getting to know the network guy

Nick checked his reflection before stepping out of the pickup truck and slammed the door. He had chosen his dark jeans and gorgeously soft caramel brown and burnt honey shirt carefully. He had received a lot of compliments on the shirt, in fact much more than he'd ever gotten on any other clothing item he'd owned. In fact, he'd received more compliments overall today than he'd probably ever received. He had a tendency to get complimented on his tattoos, not his actual wardrobe.

A month ago, he would never have worn the shirt. He didn't even have it yet. He got it on a whim, and for a grand total of $22.87 plus tax. It had cost more to ship it to him than it did to buy it. But, it had been on his wishlist for quite some time and he had been on a site called Polyvore that helped him visualize and create outfits. It was a giant shop-your-closet site, but also had fashion premade inspirations. They were grouped by color and "feel", and he had saved outfits, removing the items he didn't own, and putting them in his own virtual shopping cart. The cart was then "worn", or virtually worn, by a model. If a piece of clothing failed to get a good response, he could flag it and it would disappear. Overall, Nick had to say he was pretty happy with the results. It'd taken a few cocktails to complete, but ultimately he felt like he had found a direction for his wardrobe.

He also had a new hoodie with the same color scheme that hugged his shoulders perfectly, and a black pair of jeans with a simple but sweet textured stitch pattern. Together they were just the right level of sexy, outdoorsy, but not too far out of comfort. They were made of a stretchy material he had discovered at a local thrift store. They felt like butter on his body, and he had spent more than he was used to on ragged tennis shoes from Saucony. He felt great.

The craft brewery in question was named O'Neill's Public House, and it didn't disappoint. It oozed the upscale local feel with its fake logs and warm colored lighting. Nick ordered a pint and sent Pierce a text message. He didn't know a lot about this guy, and he was nervous. Pierce had chosen the place and Nick was anxious about being here without any friends. Hopefully this would not turn out to be a creep. He imagined that Pierce's profile picture would be of a greasy, heavyset 47-year old with bad skin. Definitely not someone he would be attracted to.

Nick was obsessed with the sheer number of people and connections in the greater DC area. Every time he checked his phone there were twenty more matches, often more. They were all fantastic, beautiful people. Male, female, queer, straight, short, tall, curvy, flat. A gay man shouldn't be so excited by a flat chested woman, but he was curious. He wanted to meet them all. He was still a little bit of a loner. He liked meeting strangers, but it was always more comfortable with a friend around.

He didn't want to be alone tonight, though. He was ready to meet someone special. He was sick of getting blown off by hipsters, collegiate types, and bearded mountain men who were two people deep into their mason jars. He was ready for something new.

Nick's beer had never tasted so good. The sharp hops made his taste buds buzz, and his nose was filled with the smell of spicy barbecue, but not in a gross meaty way, but in a deliciously sweet and sultry way. His stomach growled as he smelled it wafting from across the room.

He had already scoped out the bar to check for possibilities. There was a guy over by the pool tables with his back to Nick, and he certainly had it going on. He was huge, at least 200 pounds, but in a good way. If it weren't for the long hair, he could easily be a football player. Nick didn't want to get stood up. He checked his phone again and saw that he only had a few minutes left until Pierce was supposed to meet him. He didn't want to be too early and make the sting of Pierce ditching him worse. He knew it was a bad habit he'd always have, which was why he'd be constantly late to any important event in life, but being stood up was the worst. The sting would be hard to take and it would take him a few days to recover.

He decided to order another beer and then go see if there were other people he knew. Maybe even the same guy with the back. He was sure he would see him eventually, and maybe he could introduce them. He didn't want to make the first move. He couldn't exactly just go up and say "Hey dude, it'd be nice to meet you, let's go get some drinks" but he would hope he recognized him.

He went to the bar and had another pint. He went back to the pool table and started quietly talking to the big stranger. He called him "Handsome". That is what his profile named him. He was so sarcastic.

Handsome didn't respond at all, but Nick wasn't going to give up that easily. He kept talking, and as he got more and more tipsy, his words came out in rapid fire. He thought that was funny, to be drunk and talking faster, but he knew it was going to make his way back to him and make it sound like he drank too much. And he did.

But the night was nowhere near over.

Pierce was beautiful. He was effortlessly stunning. Nick felt cheapened standing next to him, like he was wearing a ratty purse. He felt he needed to work out and eat healthier.