The Perfect FB

One thing that helps dull the sting of being single and having countless bad dates is the FB. A Friend with Benefits or in less polite social settings, we call them the F@#& Buddy.

Ideal situations for a FB is different for everybody. Some people only want what the name implies and nothing more. For me, I like a little more intimacy involved. While I might not want them to spend the night, I at least want to know their names. NYC seems to be a mix bag of tricks for me. Don’t get me wrong, I have found a some guys that I have had an amazing time with but only a few of them I would ever call back for a second audition.

Sometimes these arrangements do not have the desired effect that you intend. In some cases one person falls in love with the other. This leads can lead to awkward situations. Especially after an encounter is over and you are trying to, as politely as possible, usher them to the door, you have some very important Top Model to watch, and they are stuck to you like you have static cling. You try to smize your way out of the situation and sometimes it works. Thank you Tyra! . Strangely enough a good friend of mine’s husband started out as her FB. I didn’t believe it at first either. Apparently it’s not an urban legion.

While in Philly, I was most fortunate to have stumble onto an idyllic FB. We met on a gentleman’s socializing network. This was directly after my last break up and I was living in a friend’s parent’s basement. It was really not as bad as it sounds, they practically had a mansion. Still, I was feeling devastated, misplaced and alone. Perfect for meeting new people.

He was five years older than me, very handsome (Think Bill Compton but as a financial adviser), and he didn’t mind that I was HIV positive. To be brutally honest, our first encounter was not the kind of blind blowing experience that warrants an encore performance. But for some reason we met again and again. Wow! Were they ever right when they said “Practice Makes Perfect.” Can I get an Amen?

Another great thing about him is that he owned a scooter that he named Francesco. He would pick me up and we would scoot to the movies, museums, or maybe just back to my apartment. I felt like I was in Positano, smiling with the wind in my hair. “Ciao bella!” His name gave me the willies. It was the same name as both my father and my brother. Now, I am not that much of a talker in bed, so there was no chance of me screaming out his name. Just even thinking their names would conjure family photos that would take the proverbial winds out of my sails. He was nameless to me. Of course I had to tell my then work wife, the one with the FB husband, and true to form she quickly came up with his nick name. She did this with my boys. From that moment on he was known Scooter Boy. I used to use his nickname so much that sometimes I forgot his real name.

On one particular day, two years after our first encounter, while we were reaping the benefits of our friendship…ok, there is no polite way to put this, so I will just say it: I came in his eye. I seldom have control of the my trajectory or the lengths it travel. I have tried but to no avail. At first, while still slightly embarrassed by this, I thought it was kind of humorous. Then comedy quickly turned to tragedy. While he was flushing out his eye, I hopped on the computer. I typed into Google: “Can Cum in the eye transfer HIV.” I was surprised at the sheer volume of answers to this questions. I understand that some people enjoy having their face being used for target practice, but I mean come on now, close your damn eyes!

I read that there was only a minor chance of infection and the chances were even less because my viral load is undetectable. Nevertheless, Scooter Boy schedule an appointment with his physician and he kept on reassuring me that everything was ok. As soon as he left, I fell to the floor debilitated with the fear of just infecting him. I know how this disease effects me on a daily basis and most days I can handle it. I cannot handle passing that on to someone else. That would absolutely ruin me.

I am happy to report that scooter boy remains negative to this day. We are still in touch and we still see each other. He made a special trip up to NYC to visit me right after I moved and I make a point to see him when I am in Philly. He remains the perfect FB.

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Filed under AIDS, Dating, Gay, HIV, HIV/AIDS, New York City, Philadelphia

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