Below is an excerpt. The full scinitillating read is here.

image via vince42

DAY FOUR

10:30 a.m.: Coffee with the office fag hag. She desperately wants to be my friend but I find her annoying. She wants to set me up with one of her friends. I ask for his name and tell her I’ll think about it.
11:45 a.m.: I search fag hag’s friend on Facebook and find his open profile. He’s cute. He has a photo album dedicated to him in drag as Lady Gaga. Not my type.
7:30 p.m.: Get ready for dinner with Nice Guy. Manscaping goes too far and I shave everything off.
8:30 p.m.: Dinner with Nice Guy is great. He holds my hand the entire time and makes me laugh. What’s wrong with me? He’s a great guy. He deserves to be treated better by me.
10:45 p.m.: Nice Guy drops me off. I wait until his cab pulls away and hail a cab of my own. Meet some friends in Chelsea.
2:30 a.m.: Bring a home a cute Columbia student and fuck. Takes me a while to get off. Too much vodka and blow. When did I become such a stereotypical New York gay?

DAY FIVE

7:30 a.m.: Tell Columbia boy to go home. Another work day with a hangover. FML.
7 p.m.: Head home in desperate need of a nap. Try to jerk off beforehand.
10 p.m.: Wake up in front of porn on laptop. Again.
11 p.m.: Meet my friend at a club. I’m excited and giddy to see him again.
12:30 a.m.: A guy starts flirting with him and touches him. I’m enraged.
12:45 a.m.: Friend goes to the restroom and I confront the flirter. Words are exchanged. Bouncers grab me and kick me out. Friend runs out and I make up some story about the flirter starting shit with me and start to cry. He believes me and we go home.
1:15 a.m.: Friend and I fall asleep in my bed and he holds me tight. Success.

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